Hoffman vibes, chips and peroxide

I've started a new creative writing course. The last one in Hull was like a giant Relate meeting, with divorcees writing pieces like "Why???" and "Old". But this one, in the splendid atmosphere of Barton's Ropery (long and thin and full of ropes) looks promising. The tutor, Nick, has actually written stuff, for a start. Our first two-hour session involved writing a blurb for our proposed novel. Mine, printed below, contains usual Lozisms - chips, queues, pebble-dash and dashed dreams, beer mash and culture clash. Tell me though, would you read this book? If so, I'll have to go and write the blighter.

Pauline is the proud owner of a peroxide and a pebble-dash, and thinks she's got life all wrapped up. At least she has at Mr Fish, where she serves up her opinions and pensioner specials to regulars with more than chips on their shoulders. She spends her wages getting battered - it's the perfect life. But her world changes when her husband Glyn announces he wants a sex change and brings home his catch of the day, off the North Sea Ferries. Cultures clash over beer and mash, as Pauline forgets to mind her mushy peas in the chip shop queue. What happens when her life goes from the frying pan to the deep-fat fryer of broken dreams and cut-price desire?

Like, shite or trite? Let me know!

Listening: LCD Soundsystem - Sound Of Silver