What Life Is Like Living With Oi: Osteogenesis Imperfecta, Brittle Bones Book

My Book Club chose to read this Book for the month of June.
I had owned it for years and never gotten around to reading it.
Then I read it.
The Book.
A Million Little Pieces.
It is the allegedly true but probably not story of a Man who smokes a lot of crack and huffs gas and drinks and drinks and drinks until he is so sick he blacks out and he worries his friends and his family until he is sent to a Clinic. He has no front teeth and his cheek has a gash. He is hurt from smoking crack and huffing gas and drinking and drinking and drinking.
He is a mess.
He needs help.
He is a mess and he needs help.
He does not want to be at the Clinic and fights all the Rules for the first 200 pages. But the Man meets some Friends who help him through the tough times, a Girl who he falls in love with, and a hard-nosed psychologist who does not give up on him. The Man is sure he can kick his habit without the help of God or Twelve Steps.
This is his story.
Allegedly.
I like this book, I thought, when I first started reading it, even though I knew it was probably 80% bull. I will read it anyway, I thought. It is a fast read. Look at how fast I am reading this book! What a fast read.
And then the Book started to annoy me.
Why aren't there quotation marks? It is not like a Cormac McCarthy book that eschews punctuation for the sake of sparse, beautiful writing. It is just eschewing for the sake of eschewing. This is ridiculous.
Why does the Man who writes the book capitalize some Nouns but not other nouns? Is the Man doing it because he thinks it's artsy? I don't think a memoir should be artsy as much as it should be factual.
Why are there no paragraph breaks or margins? Is it because the Man is a Rule-breaker and Hard-nosed and because he has a Devil May Care attitude? I think the Man just thinks he's cool, and Cool Guys don't need margins or paragraph breaks.
Why does the Man keep repeating things? He eats eggs. He eats cheese. He eats eggs and cheese. He vomits and vomits and vomits and vomits. He is scared and heartbroken and worried and mad and facing his anger and wanting to drink and do drugs and hurt himself. He is scared and heartbroken and worried and mad and facing his anger and wanting to drink and do drugs and hurt himself. I want to hurt him for writing lists instead of sentences. I also want to hurt him
For
Doing.
Things.
Like.
This.
But there's something about the book that made me want to read more.
And I read it.
I didn't throw it across the room in a fit of Rage.
It made me not want to do Crack.
But I've never wanted to do Crack.
And maybe that's why my Million Pieces are still together.