The work this time around is an essay, Would Dying Alone Really Be So Terrible, from Samantha Irby's collection, Meaty (Curbside Splendor, 2013). Man, 2013--that means I've had this collection for over 2 years now. In that time it has rarely not been somewhere in one of my main reading piles. It's not a collection I'd suggest one sit down with and three or four hours later put it down. It is one however that I highly recommend.
Irby's writing is both funny and a bit angry all rolled together and takes on topics rarely seen in essay, or even fictional, form. From the middle of this particular essay:
I don't know, man. I'm just not big on spending every waking minute with someone you show your privates to. People are boring. I'm fucking boring. My funny runs out, my cute runs out, my smart sometimes hiccups, my sexy wakes up with uncontrollable diarrhea. I have a fucking attitude.
This really is pretty typical of her writing. There's self-deprecation, dark humor, quick wit. Nothing to not like. You can really open this collection up to any page and get a quick paragraph or two that will brighten your day, make you think a bit, and think that you'd like to hang our with Samantha Irby, watch some television maybe, have some snacks. Just be ready to get up at the end of an hour or two as she's not up for the company staying too long.
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