“My tendency to make up stories and lie compulsively for the sake of my own amusement takes up a good portion of my day and provides me with a peace of mind not easily attainable in this economic climate.”–Chelsea Handler, from Chapter 10 of Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang
It’s no lie: Chelsea Handler loves to smoke out “dumbassness,” the condition people suffer from that allows them to fall prey to her brand of complete and utter nonsense. Friends, family, co-workers–they’ve all been tricked by Chelsea into believing stories of total foolishness and into behaving like total fools. Luckily, they’ve lived to tell the tales and, for the very first time, write about them.
This book makes me want to tell lies. Lies that ruin honeymoons. Lies that cost thousands of dollars. Lies that make Scott think I’m giving our non-existent baby fetal alcohol syndrome. Basically, I want to lie like Chelsea.
More importantly, this book makes me want to somehow obtain a spot on one of Chelsea’s infamous tropical vacations, even if it does require allowing her to sit in my lap an urinate all over me. That’s obviously assuming I don’t pee my bikini first because she’s making me laugh so hard.
Also? The last chapter is written by a dog. Really, it doesn’t get much better than that.
I give it 4 cupcakes