I’ve never watched Chelsea Lately, but I had this idea of Chelsea Handler being the female Tucker Max. As it turns out Handler isn’t anywhere near as depraved as Max, but she does have her moments: “My mother told me that life isn’t always about pleasing yourself and that sometimes you have to do things for the sole benefit of another human being. I completely agreed with her, but reminded her that that was what blow jobs were for.” This is a quick read with a lot of humor (“I realized it was time to formulate a plan. Step one was to start drinking immediately.”) but surprisingly not much sex. Don’t get me wrong—sex is the main topic under discussion—but Handler seems to concentrate more on the hilarious lead-up and aftermath of her coital encounters than finding humor in what happens between the sheets. If you are easily offended avoid this book; although, if you are easily offended you probably quit reading my opinions long ago so I’m not sure if that tidbit of advice matters!
I was seven years old when my sister told me she’d give me five dollars to run upstairs into my parents’ room while they were having sex and take a picture.
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