I could *barely* get through this author's 1st book, I don't know why I thought the 2nd would be any better. Simply put- this "humor" book isn't funny. The essays were long and tedious and while some were better than others, mostly I kept waiting for the funny parts- but they never came. This book should be called "I'm Going to Tell You a Long, Boring Story That Has No Point- And Then I'm Going to do it Eight More Times".
There should be a star rating for "it was alright".
If you're looking for funny essays try Celia Rivenbark, Jancee Dunn, Chelsea Handler or any of Jen Lancaster's memoirs.

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I couldn't finish this one. I thought her first book (I Was Told There'd Be Cake) was much more entertaining.

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Crosley's first book, "I Was Told There Would Be Cake" had me on the floor I was laughing so hard, but this one misses the mark. Her writing is still beautiful and she can still paint a detailed picture with her words, but the funny is missing. The funny that IS here feels forced - like she had an editor standing behind her with a gun to her head. Smart writing, but mis-filed under comedy. It would fit better in general short stories.

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