#46:
Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea by Chelsea Handler:
The idea that Red thought meeting my drunk aunt and uncle meant that we were on the brink of getting engaged was ridiculous. I understand that meeting someone's family usually means you're taking the relationship to the next level, but not with my family. Obviously, if I was serious about having a relationship with someone long-term, the last people I would introduce him to would be my family.
Synopsis: A collection of unfunny pieces about an unfunny person.
Seriously, this isn't going to be much of a review, because this really wasn't much of a book.
I had such high hopes for this book because I really did like Handler's
My Horizontal Life. But what came off there as wry and sassy, here just comes off as shallow and heartless. It's one thing to assert your sexuality and claim sexual independence and power with little sympathy for the people you're sleeping with, but if you're constantly asserting your power in all areas of your life with little sympathy for the people all around you, there's a good chance you're just an asshole.