Welcome to my feature here at Attack the Stacks…Down & Nerdy! Down & Nerdy will feature things like non-fiction, graphic novels, etc. – things that are generally considered to be, you know, nerdy.
Well, obviously this isn’t the type of book that I usually review. I do almost exclusively YA here with the odd non-fiction or adult fiction thrown in, and this is a humor memoir. I’m only reviewing it for two reasons: a) it’s really freaking funny; and b) I love Michael Showalter.
There. I said it. I love Michael Showalter. If you don’t know who he is, he’s a distinguished alum of MTV’s The State (if you are not familiar, acquaint yourself at once) as well as the cult comedy troupe Stella and the movie Wet Hot American Summer.
He’s an exceptionally awkward human being, which I can totally relate to. There is a story in the book where he sneakily reads a text being sent by a woman who he is sitting next to on an airplane, only to find out that it’s a not-flattering text about him. Obviously he can’t say anything because she’ll know that he’s been creeping on her while she’s texting. So after being momentarily heartbroken he does what all awkward human beings do – he stews on it for the entire flight and comes up with a real zinger, then hunts her down and delivers it when they get off of the plane…only to realize after she’s gone that all he succeeded in doing was agreeing with what she said about him in the first place. And apologizing to her for it. Oops.
While I read this book I made several noises that did not previously exist. I snorted, I snarfled, and I thought I’d die laughing. It’s quite possible that some of these stories are embellished, but it doesn’t really matter. All great storytellers embellish a bit. Then again, maybe it’s all 100% true…the truth is usually stranger than fiction, after all.
He and I also have similar problems with taking naps. One of my favorite quotes from the book, which not coincidentally also reminds me of myself: “Like, I could take a nap at 4:15 PM and then I’ll wake up twenty minutes later and have absolutely no clue where I am. I’m like, “What era is this? Is it the 1920s? Am I a flapper? Should I go put on a flapper costume and flap at a party?”
Basically I’m not going to do this book any justice. If you like to laugh, read it. If you hate fun, don’t read it. The choice is yours.