The not too introspective retrospective of one Charles E. Hammer, architect, Sunday Painter, husband of three wives (lauraadelejanice), and father of several litters, whose whole life along with his fiscal position is now in arrears. It's a fairly racy recital, and Charles uses a good many sardonicisms along with words run together (ibid above) and Lots of Upper Case letters to record just how he's been Had, although he's never denied himself Having either. Well, first there was Laura, and then Adele, an actress with no talent, and then Janice, and finally Elise, whose husband victimized her and who assists him on the road to further ruin-- robbing his best friend and shooting her husband. There are lots of contemporary references from Sinatra to Sartre; some connubial intimacies; and in spite of all the black and blue notes, it really ends on an upbeat which is farce. In its gadgety way, readable.