Random Sara and Book Review: ARE YOU THERE VODKA? IT'S ME, CHELSEA by Chelsea Handler

I'm going to be frank. I don't know really what I can say to force you to read this book. This book is a million shades of awesome. I love Chelsea Handler. Chelsea is me in a few years. I am pretty sure that had I not gotten married at 22 and had babies so early this would have been my future. And it would have been amazing. So I am basically going to give a really lame ass review interspersed with quotes from the book.

"...For a woman, being a redhead is a completely acceptable trait. Oftentimes it can be extremely attractive. Conversely, being a redheaded man is pretty much a lose-lose situation. It's incredibly hard to take redheaded men seriously, never mind think of them in any sort of sexual capacity. Obviously, it's not their f...ault that they were born with red hair. However, it is their responsbility to change that hair color once they have access to a convenience store or supermarket. It's one thing to have a harelip, or even a leg that's a couple of inches shorter than the other, but if you're a man with red hair and don't opt to do everything in your power to alter that, then obviously you're not serious about experiencing all life has to offer."

"Red got up and walked out of my bedroom toward the front door. Before he made it out I added one last thing: 'And you might want to think about trimming your bush!' Then I ran back into my room before he could say anything about my beaver.."

This book is hilarious for a lot of reasons other than the fact Chelsea wrote it. First off, she talks about her family's dysfunctional qualities so unabashedly and unapologetically that I only WISH I could do. I have a field of land minds in my family that I could write entire books about. And I'm not even going to touch my in-laws. But what I love about it is when she's interviewed and is blatantly asked how her family feels about this- she's honest when she says they don't care. And that's awesome. Because I'm a firm believer that if you can't make fun of your situation, and see the humor in it, there is something wrong with you. If you can't step back and make fun of yourself or those around you without worrying that you are damaging their self esteem to the point that they may kill themselves, there is something wrong with you. I will tell you if you suck. Sure, I might do it behind your back but if you ask me what my opinion of you is, please be ready for it. It might not be pretty.

Which is what has gone wrong with our society. You wonder why we have people so up in arms about hurting feelings, or being politically correct. Dammit. If you suck you need to know. If you are a rude ass son of a bitch, you need to know. If you are "woe is me" 99% of the time and are driving those around you into alcoholism just to cope with you, you need to know. But don't get it twisted- if you are an awesome person and you are doing kind and great and wonderful things for others, I will tell you that I think you are a million shades of super and I will tell others as well. Because frankly, I'm sick and tired of people being so god damn offended when somebody says something not so nice or points out a flaw of yours. Because guess what? You need to know.

"While looking at a website for liposuction, I learned that it was six- to eight-week recovery period, the clincher being that, during that time, I would under no circumstances be able to use street drugs. Obviously I had to think of a more realistic approach."

The other thing I love about Chelsea and her books is how she openly talks about sex. Now I have not had a ton of sexual partners, only 3 and I'm married to one of them, and so I when I read her books the first thing I think is "Son of a bitch. I just KNEW I should have whored it up." Because I think I'm missing a lot of experience that I really should have. I mean, I have had a lot of whacked out things happen to me with these three men and in my eleven years of sexual activity that I will tell you was NEVER covered in any sex ed, health class, or OB/GYN brochure. Considering I started reading Cosmopolitan a full year after I lost my virginity I was already way behind. And I'm really sorry- but their pictures? Their directions? Maybe I don't have a firm grasp of the English language but NONE of it makes sense to me. Anything super exciting I've ever done in bed has been complete accidents. That thank god I remember how to repeat. But Cosmo has failed me.

"Although I had developed a serious crush on our plumber that year, I wasn't sure that I was ready for penetration. I had seen my very first penis on a porno tape I stole from my brother, and was completely flabbergasted. While I had heard a lot about size and shape of the penis, no one had ever mentioned that there were going to be balls attached to it. Not to mention that there would be two of them, that they would be covered in hair, and that later in life, they would most likely end up smacking you in the face. I'm really glad I got the heads-up when I did, (a) because if I had found myself in bed with someone and see his two little friends headed toward me with no prior warning, I probably would have lodged a formal complaint with Internal Affairs, and (b) because it gave me plenty of time to shop for the perfect-size chin guard".

I also think that Chelsea gives a lot of pertinent, useful and applicable information to men as well in her books.

"...if you're a guy and you pull your pants down, and the girl you're with immediately starts text messaging her friends, you have a small penis."

I encourage you to check out any of her books. This is her second one, but she also has MY HORIZONTAL LIFE (which is hilarious and makes me angry that I've never had a one night stand) and she has a new one out called CHELSEA, CHELSEA- BANG, BANG which I have and am going to read after I finish up the book I'm on now.

Book Review: MY HORIZONTAL LIFE by Chelsea Handler + Truth or Dare (aka Sara TMI)= full circle with a giveaway/contest

Side note: Winnahs to my GIVEAWAY were posted yesterday. Click here to determine if you are a WINNAH or a looooooser. (I love you either way.)

That's right bitches. I have a FABULOUS book for you to read, plus I'm going to give you a heads up on a really fun contest/giveaway going on, and I'm going to give you some Sara TMI so I can win said giveaway and bring it all FULL CIRCLE.

(This is why I'm hot, yo)

For those of you who don't know me in real life (and by this I mean full on, like we hang out, you've witnessed me in action, or have heard me talk a million miles a second about the asshole who just did whatever to me, literally 5 minutes before meeting you for lunch, etc) don't know how much I love Chelsea Handler. Like I want to be her. I want her to be my friend. I want her to be my bestie. Or at least stalk me. Because I would totally be ok with her showing up in my bushes.

This book is FABULOUS. I borrowed it from my friend Lisa's friend Stephanie who I know, but not like super well and frankly- I think if one more crazy joins their group worlds will collide. Nobody would make it out alive. I have to say that this book makes me love Chelsea even more. She's a complete slut and I love it. Like if I were going to be a slut, this is how I'd like to do it. I want a run in with a midget, a gay friend who's hepped up on drugs at the family wedding, a guy coming out in full hardcore sex gear WITH a whip, etc. Yes, this is all in the book.

"He was all emotion all the time, constantly talking about his feelings and his profound love for her. He was minutes from getting his first period. He wrote poems too. It's my personal belief that if men are writing poems, they're making up for something else like a big hair back, or one ball. Not that one ball is a bad thing. Especially since I don't know any females who are dying to their their hands on a set of balls. The way I see it, the less balls, the better."-Chelsea Handler

This is what I had envisioned my 20's would be like. Clearly, I was off. By a husband, house, two kids, and two cats. But I highly recommend this book. The first chapter alone is so hysterical and I decided right then and there (in the back of the tire store my brother works at since I *finally* got new tires...lamest birthday present EVER) that I have clearly taken the wrong path in my life. I could have been her. Shit- I still could be. She's gotta die sometime, right? I'm ready to fill that void when she does. Chelsea's agent- holla. ;)

Anyways. My chicky Danon over at The Insatiable Host is having a giveaway but is making into a Truth or Dare deal. I am lucky because I was the first (and let's be real- you can't be surprised I'm #1) so I have a TRUTH to answer: When was your first time doin the nasty...How old, where, who...deets peeps...deets!!(better make it good - even if it was not!)

Bitch, please. EASY.

October 1999. I was 17. He was 20. It was at his house (which was his parents house. Yes I know how lame this was. Don't judge. I was 17 and thought I was hot shit.) We had been dating since May. We got engaged in August (again...don't judge. I was stupid and my parents hated him so OBVIOUSLY I was going to say yes). He convinced me that because we were going to get married, we may as well have sex. Because being engaged and married are practically the same thing apparently. He told me it was his first time which I thought was weird considering he was 20 and had a lot of other girlfriends before me but whatever. He had a BAG of condoms in his dresser (which yay for being prepared but who the hell is THAT prepared). We lit a candle that smelled horrid. We listened to Nine Inch Nails' The Great Below. It was late afternoon but dark in his room because the curtains were closed.

It was, literally, only 2, maybe 3 minutes long. Like he got in, lots of pain but I knew this after reading the ton of stuff the doctor gave me when my mother got me birth control when I started dating him because she was thinking ahead. (Go mom!) But yeah- it hurt worse than I thought it would. THEN...his brother (a year younger than me) started banging on the door. His parents were home, drunk (again), and so yeah. That was that. I had to hustle to get myself put together and then realized that it hurt to sit. It hurt to stand and walk. So the guy, ever the gentleman, told me to "walk it off" and so we walked around the neighborhood. Which I'm sure I looked real cool hobbling along.

But that was that. I do remember thinking on my drive home, "What the fuck is the big deal with sex? That sucked." And with him it never got any better. For awhile I thought maybe he really was a virgin because it wasn't as fun for me as you see in shows. So then I thought maybe I had some deformity. We broke up at the end of 2001 because it just wasn't going to work out. I had a not so great relationship after him and then I met Matt. And even though after boyfriend #1 and I broke up I started to think that he lied about that (among a lot of other things) but then when I met Matt- I thought "holy jesus--- sex isn't so bad afterall". Maybe that's why I married Matt. Maybe I thought I hit the pinnacle of greatness. Who knows.

Things I learned:

-do not have sex with younger siblings in the same building.

- do not have sex for the first time without advil, lubrication, and some kind of pantyliner. Because you will bleed.

- if you are a slut- just be honest and tell your partner. If you have to lie because you think it'd be bad, then maybe you shouldn't be having sex like a rabbit in heat with everything that walks passed you.

-engaged and married are not the same things. Not even if you are carrying wedding planning magazines in your bag to school and flaunting a ring that the girl after you wore and you're pretty sure belonged to somebody before you.

-communication is KEY to having sex.

SO. Go visit my girl Danon over at The Insatiable Host and tell her I sent you. Specifically mention that I sent you. Also- she runs a panty pyramid. (snicker...) I just joined and so you should join. And then we can all prance around in our new panties and admire the giftbasket I am going to win. And tell dirty stories. Oooh..this is going to be fun.