Jared Paul Stern, best known for his time back in the day as the resident bitch over at Page Six, goes to town on Dave Itzkoff's memoir, Lads. We have to wonder, after reading and rereading the piss-and-vinegar review, if Stern might have a personal bone to pick, or if he's just obsessed with Itzkoff's bone:

And when not rubbing shoulders, Mr. Itzkoff seems to have been rubbing himself, a practice he interjects into the narrative with alarming frequency, as if to underscore the point of all the semi-clad starlets parading through the magazines. As a leitmotif, it wears thin rather quickly, as does the forced vulgarity parading through "Lads."

I'm sorry, but last time we checked, accounts of chronic masturbation made reading a book worthwhile. We just don't have the time unless it's pervy.
Jughead Journalism [WSJ]