A review is really unnecessary here. Just go buy/check out/borrow/steal Furiously Happy and get to reading. It is incredibly funny, incredibly moving, and really, really, REALLY funny. Did I mention it was funny? Because it’s really funny.
This isn’t enough to make word quota is it? Do we have a word quota at Criticult? I should probably check in to that. No, I’m not just typing to fill out word space. How dare you, good sir or madam. If I had a white glove I would hit you with it.
Fine, if you must know in this outing Jenny Lawson’s essays cover all sorts of fun topics like an Australian trip, gall bladder surgery, her acquisition of Rory the adorable raccoon (you may know him from the cover of the book, Furiously Happy), her depression and varied mental illnesses, living with said depression and mental illness, kitten mittens, and her long beleaguered husband, Victor. Every essay is either heart felt, heartbreaking, or heart attack inducing hilarity. What I’m saying is there is much heart here. Boo-koo* heart. Loads of it.
There, I’m up to like (checks) 195 words. Well, I was just before the 195, it’s even more than that now. I’m probably in the 200 at this point. Ha-Ha! In your face arbitrary word count that may not be a thing!
Ahem, go read Jenny’s book. Now. Seriously, get the hell out of here and go read!
*NOTE: I know the word is beaucoup, boo-koo is more fun and I guarantee someone reading this went “I had no idea that’s how boo-koo is spelled.”