I wasn’t sure what to expect going into this book, but wow, it completely pulled me in. Chaz Holesworth lays his life bare in a way that feels both brutal and beautiful. The descriptions of growing up in Kensington are so vivid, I felt like I was there, walking those cracked sidewalks with him. What struck me most is how he blends pain with humor, never letting one cancel out the other. It’s not an easy story, but it’s the kind of memoir that stays with you.

Reading this felt like sitting in a dimly lit bar, listening to someone spill their life story, except that someone happens to be a natural storyteller. Chaz is candid, flawed, self-aware, and often funny in the darkest moments. I think anyone who’s dealt with family addiction or cycles of hardship will find something that resonates here.

This memoir reminds me of Angela’s Ashes but set against the backdrop of Philly grit. The family struggles, the addiction, the neighborhood dynamics, it all felt painfully real. What I appreciated most was the honesty. There’s no attempt to make himself look better or to glorify suffering. Instead, Chaz gives us the raw, jagged edges of his life and lets us draw strength from it.