This book is raunchy. I guess this has been a popular genre for a while, the VERY personal memoirs by bloggers? I only discovered this genre for myself this year when I finally read Jenny Lawson’s, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened. Let’s just say Lawson “turned me on” (pun intended) to a whole new type of book.
The audio of, We Are Never Meeting in Real Life, had me laughing in the first minute. I stepped outside to take my morning walk, when the author described herself as “35ish, but I could pass for forty-seven to fifty-two, easily; sixty something if I stay up all night”. This had me. I was barely containing my insane laughter as my neighbor resisted the urge to ask me if I was okay.
This memoir is full of self-deprecating humor, which is of course hilarious. However, if I’m being honest, the author is too hard on herself. The author continuously comes down on herself for being lazy, but all evidence suggests she is anything but… She works 50 hours a week, writes a blog, dates, and goes out clubbing. The thought of her lifestyle is absolutely exhausting.
I found this book to be entertaining, but I would be hesitant to recommend it to almost anybody. This book should come with a warning label: may cause uncontrollable laughing, flinching, and moments of disgust. May not be suitable for people who are allergic to cats, heterophobic, homophobic, racist, people with bad backs, heart disorders or bad credit scores.
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