Follow a man barely deserving of the title as he flails through a turgid cesspit of human depravity, only to discover that he’s the one bunging up its U-bend. Wrongly Writing has even more psychiatrists, anaphylaxis and cringing social ineptitude than the first Wrong Book, and proves that while editors exist for a reason, the author clearly doesn’t.
Similar to The Bible, in that Jesus is mentioned over twenty times, and entirely dissimilar to Médard Alard's 1922 masterpiece, «Est-ce Que Quelqu'un a Vu Mes Clés de Voiture?», which sold over thirteen copies thanks to a national cheese shortage.
