The Idiot Girl and the Flaming Tantrum of Death
Reflections on Revenge, Germophobia, and Laser Hair Removal
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- USD 7.99
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- USD 7.99
Publisher Description
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Laurie Notaro has an uncanny ability to attract insanity—and leave readers doubled over with laughter. Need proof? Check out The Idiot Girl and the Flaming Tantrum of Death and try not to bust a gut.
Join Notaro as she experiences the popular phenomenon of laser hair removal (because at least one of her chins should be stubble-free); bemoans the scourge of the Open Mouth Coughers on America’s airplanes and in similarly congested areas; welcomes the newest ex-con (yay, a sex offender!) to her neighborhood; and watches, against her own better judgment, every Discovery Health Channel special on parasites and tapeworms that has ever aired—resulting in an overwhelming fear that a worm the size of a python will soon come a-knocking on her back door.
In Notaro’s world, strangers are stranger than fiction. One must always check the hotel bathroom for hobo hairs and consciously remember not to stare at old men with giant man-boobies. And then there are the lessons she has learned the hard way: Though it may seem like a good idea, it’s best not to hire a tweaked-out homeless guy to clean up your yard.
The Plain Dealer says that Laurie Notaro is “a scream, the freak-magnet of a girlfriend you can’t wait to meet for a drink to hear her latest story.” With The Idiot Girl and the Flaming Tantrum of Death, Notaro proves she’s not only funny but resigned to the fact that you can’t look bad ass in a Prius. Don’t even try.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
In her latest collection of essays, Notaro (The Idiot Girl's Action-Adventure Club) turns out a double-handful of chuckle-worthy vignettes, looking at episodes of panic on an airplane, spying on guests at a mountain resort, learning to live with the ex-con down the street and, of course, handling the numerous disappointments and betrayals of the human body. Notaro blends sardonic, often self-deprecating comedy with disarming sincerity, delving into weight gain and body hair issues without hesitation, but staying closer to house, hearth, and everyday life with husband and dog. Most of the time, her quips rise to the occasion, but occasionally fall flat (as in "Death of a Catchphrase"). Although the majority of Notaro's musings are light-hearted, she reveals an affecting serious side in her essay on a pet's death. With plenty of humorous insight into the everyday debacles of an average gal from Arizona, these entertaining essays should make satisfying, bite-sized beach reading.
