Take a photo of a barcode or cover
3.83 AVERAGE
3.83 AVERAGE
Didn't feel the need to finish this reread. Wasn't one to read again.
emotional
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
Endearing and intensely human. However, slightly repetitive, and too much like reading someone's 'journal'. A lack of variation in style. Certainly wasn't what I was expecting when I picked this up, but I'm glad to have read it to the end. My lack of enjoyment probably comes from not relating to Irby's experiences/thoughts enough. Nevertheless, a decent read. The audiobook's fab. (But then again, what does one really expect to find in a book with a cute hedgehog on the cover?)
funny
informative
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
This book is definitely not for the faint of heart. Matter of fact, Samantha Irby is not for the faint of heart. She takes keeping it real to a whole other level. I'm all for honesty and living in your truth and there were parts of this book that made me cringe. But god, do I love this book and Samantha Irby. In a world of perfection and Instagram photoshopped models, there's Samantha who has no problem detailing her thumb sucking and laziness. This book is great. I do like We Are Never Meeting in Real Life better but this book is the shit.
funny
hopeful
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
fast-paced
It was hard to choose a star rating for this one. There are parts that are absolutely hilarious, and I did read the whole thing. There are parts where I think, "Everyone with Crohn's disease is so happy that someone is putting this out there."
But, there are also huge parts of me that cringe at the Erma Bombeck meets Howard Stern meets every word you could ever think of to describe shit/where it is from/where it is going to go--because it goes everywhere. So many parts of this were just too much for me. It was forceably over detailed about every disgusting and gross thing a human body can do and be. I know we all have ear wax and sexual fluids, but I don't need to read entire essays expounding on someone else's. That's to say nothing about shit. Seriously. The word "shit" is used ad nauseam. Like, for real. I felt nauseous.
Irby is incredibly real and raw and holds back absolutely nothing about her life and her body (and its every.single.function). But, there is no one in this entire world that I need to know most of these things about.
But, there are also huge parts of me that cringe at the Erma Bombeck meets Howard Stern meets every word you could ever think of to describe shit/where it is from/where it is going to go--because it goes everywhere. So many parts of this were just too much for me. It was forceably over detailed about every disgusting and gross thing a human body can do and be. I know we all have ear wax and sexual fluids, but I don't need to read entire essays expounding on someone else's. That's to say nothing about shit. Seriously. The word "shit" is used ad nauseam. Like, for real. I felt nauseous.
Irby is incredibly real and raw and holds back absolutely nothing about her life and her body (and its every.single.function). But, there is no one in this entire world that I need to know most of these things about.
funny
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
I enjoy most of Irby’s work but I’m too uptight for the body-related humour in this book. That’s a me problem though; if poop jokes and hearing about adventures in casual sex are you jam, you’ll like these essays.
I picked this one up after a friend posted a glowing review of Irby generally (as like an internet personage you'd want to be best friends with) and suggested that this was one to read.
The thing is, it's a blog that has been printed and given a cover. I like blogs. The existence of blogs is the basis of my livelihood, and there is lots of great blog content out there. Some of Irby's content is in fact great blog content and some of it could be made into fantastic essay collection content. But for me that's kind of where it ends. I think that any number of the essays in this book would have made good reads as the sort of isolated things that pop up in my Facebook feed enough times that I finally then go read to see what the hype is about and wind up clutching my stomach laughing over. But as a collection of essays, this thing really just didn't work for me. It felt like I was binge-reading a blog, and that's just a different experience to me than reading a cohesive and polished book of essays.
I feel like Irby's got a hilarious, sad book in her, but this one isn't it.
The thing is, it's a blog that has been printed and given a cover. I like blogs. The existence of blogs is the basis of my livelihood, and there is lots of great blog content out there. Some of Irby's content is in fact great blog content and some of it could be made into fantastic essay collection content. But for me that's kind of where it ends. I think that any number of the essays in this book would have made good reads as the sort of isolated things that pop up in my Facebook feed enough times that I finally then go read to see what the hype is about and wind up clutching my stomach laughing over. But as a collection of essays, this thing really just didn't work for me. It felt like I was binge-reading a blog, and that's just a different experience to me than reading a cohesive and polished book of essays.
I feel like Irby's got a hilarious, sad book in her, but this one isn't it.
emotional
funny
informative
lighthearted
reflective
sad
fast-paced