We Don't Belong Here

In the summer of 2008 I enlisted in the US Coast Guard and moved from Southern California to Cape Cod, Massachusetts. You ever been there? I recommend you bring a jacket. It's nice in the summer. In the winter, if it's a harsh one, you may spend a lot of time snowed in playing one-on-one Beer Pong with your roommate, or messaging girls on PlentyOfFish. So when I went home, two years later, for New Years, to party in the desert with all my old friends, I think it's safe to say that I might've overdid it. It took two years to get this book out: One year was spent writing it. The next year was spent apologizing. You ever come back to a familiar place and realize how everything stays the same, but at the same time it all feels completely different? Set under the bare sun and long, open roads of Southern California's Inland Empire, We Don't Belong Here is a 51,000 word, 72-hour memoir, soaked with reminiscence, mayhem, sobriety and the frayed and melted truths of excessive behavior.