I've read all of Notaro's nonfiction; I wouldn't say that this is the best, but it still had its moments. I counted at least four times where I was laughing so hard I was crying at some passages, so for me that's a good measure of a funny book.

I was introduced to Laurie Notaro’s books back in 2007, when I inadvertently stumbled across a copy of The Idiot Girls’ Action Adventure Club. Since then, I’ve read each of her collections of essays (except the one about Christmas), and I’ve enjoyed them immensely. That’s why I was thrilled to pick up a copy of her latest.

Notaro’s essay collections are laugh-out-loud funny, and Idiot Girl and the Flaming Tantrum of Death joins her sisters' ranks. By far my favorite essay was the one after which this book was named—only the day before, I’d had my very own sort-of Laurie moment behind the wheel of my car (except I didn’t react nearly the same way as she did). I also greatly enjoyed Laurie’s story about taking a cruise. I was a little bit put off by the potty humor in this book, but I guess that’s what she’s known for. Other than that, though, this book had me rolling in my seat with laughter. ( )

Good, nasty, politically incorrect fun. ( )

First, a calibration of humor: I find Calvin Trillin generally funny—I find David Sedaris generally annoying; Sarah Vowell amuses me—Chelsea Handler bores me. If your tastes run along a different path then keep in mind during the following that YMMV.

There are some excellent moments, both the small phrases that bring a snort of laughter and complete essays. "Leaving, but Not on a Jet Plane" (a tale of selling her house) and "The Extended Warranty, the Extended Waistband, and the Repairman Who Almost Became a Hostage" (about the tribulations of getting her treadmill fixed) were consistently enjoyable. The high point is "Ready or Not", in which she abandons all but the mildest humor in telling us the story of her dogs...the favorite who died and the little puppy that eventually replaced her. In this, Notaro proved she can write movingly and convincingly.

Unfortunately, I have an upper limit of "1 or less" when it comes to being amused at penis and vagina jokes—we are treated to many. I have an even lower limit for potty humor—there's plenty including a whole essay on the subject of her husband touching poop during a sewer backup.

I finished the book, but most of it had that feel of grade school humor: little kids snickering in their "gross equals funny" world. Even if I found that kind of thing funny, I could not escape the feeling that she was simply trying too hard. There was none of the effortless flow that makes good humor such a pleasure to read.

Oh well, it was a free book. ( )

It was ok. There were some laughs and it was a fast read. ( )