We all have those things we do to not go into robot mode on particularly dull days. Music helps, but its also a gateway distraction. Running works, but I can only do that once a day and robot mode is pretty much a constant threat Mon-Fri. Funny blogs are my vice and TheBlogess is the worst of them all. And by worst I mean best.
As much as I like her blog, I had reservations about a whole book. My fear was that this would be another I’m-so-crazy-its-hilarious-but-not-really memoir. It turned out to be more in the ‘why can’t I stop laughing at this woman’s pain’ vein. While a little slow getting started, I laughed out loud on almost every single page of Let’s Pretend This Never Happened (A Mostly True Memoir).
This was the first time I ever finished a book with the urge to send its author something dead as a thank you. And apparently I wasn’t the only one. Jenny Lawson grew up in rural west Texas on a steady education boll weevil eradication, and avoiding as many dead animals offered by her father as possible.
Don’t know how she manages to make child birth funny, but she does:
There’s really no other form of surgery where the doctor prefers to just let you get torn apart rather than cut you…
It’s easy to laugh at Lawson’s stories. Not because they aren’t true as she backs most of them up with photos. If you read the blog, you already know she’s hyper aware of the line in which a situation becomes so absurd she needs to grab her camera to prove it.
The reason it’s so easy to laugh is partly because she’s laughing too without being self-deprecating. Also her comedic timing is spot on and that’s a gift she uses shamelessly. Most comedians can’t pull off timing in their writing, but Lawson’s voice is so distinct that you hear it in your head as you read – almost as if she’s embedded an inaudible audio book in the pages.
Jenny Lawson is as comfortable writing about her vagina as she is about zombie pets rising, and the scary side of living in the country. There’s something so infectiously weird and likable about her, taxidermy habit and all.
You have to check out this book because it’s really hot this summer, and we’re all getting a little cranky. Why honk horns in traffic when you could make a batch of sangria or tea and spend a few hours laughing instead? This book boosted my mood enough to forgive my favorite shore cafe friend for attempting to switch me to decafe. (He played it off with a ‘whoops’, but I’ve got my eye on him now.)
The one thing that stumped me is the tiny tiny font. Dear Publisher, Are you trying to kill our eye balls? Couldn’t you do so more creatively? Squinting makes us all less attractive and hostile-looking. Do you have stock in botox? Do you want people who haven’t read this book to think it’ll make them angry and wrinkled? Do you realize how uncomfortable it is to realize the laughing stranger who looks like she’s in pain is you? Think ya could give us a normal 10 pt. font size? Sincerely, Too young for large print books.
Seriously, I hope Lawson’s next book is obscenely long. George R.R. Martin length. I put her in my Top 10 list of funny people. What about you? Funniest people alive today are…?