Chelsea Handler

This surprisingly intimate memoir covers a number of topics, from family, to death, to dating, to pets, but central to these topics is the author's pursuit of mental health. Most of the book is composed of stream-of-consciousness reconstructions of psychiatric sessions. The author is dissatisfied with her level of maturity and has a lot of critical views of her personality. As a result, she decides to partner with a therapist to corrected her inadequacies. Unfortunately, she quickly learns show more that small, surface level character flaws cannot be excised without unpacking the deep emotional trauma that underlies them.

The author takes us along with her as she works through the formative events of her life as she and her therapist examine how the untimely death of her brother has rippled outward through her life having untold impact. Of course, there are also lots of funny stories about everyday life and dog snuggles. This book has a lot of heavy subject matter despite its bedrock humor, so it's not going to be for everyone. However, I thoroughly enjoyed it, although it did surprise me. show less

This book is a product of it's time. That's not an excuse, but a disclaimer. Chelsea has always rubbed me the wrong way- she gets a kick out of being controversial and shocking, and this book no different.

This was such a hard listen for me. I know for a fact if I had been reading it, I would have put it down by the second use of 'Indian' in place of Native American (and it's still racist, given she uses it as 'wailed like a' and 'these women were behaving like wild Indians'). I know I show more wouldn't have been able to stomach it at all if I was watching her read it, because something about her face bugs me. It's just obvious how desperate for attention she is, which is probably why she likes being controversial. However, on audio, she kept me hooked in the worst way. She is obviously a talented comedian, funny and attention-grabbing. I found myself wanting to continue listening, and yet, she offended in every chapter. Truly bizarre.

As I was listening, I felt like she used every slur possible as it related to her stories, except the n-word. Until the last chapter when she said 'n***er lips'. I think she thought it was ok to use these words, because they were usually in the context of someone else saying it to her, often her father. F*ggot, r*tard, the n-word are all said, some multiple times, by "other people". Meanwhile, Chelsea herself has no issues using Indian, midget, using rape for mundane situations, and being generally racist and fatphobic. Repeatedly. I didn't find any of these funny, but there were a lot of anecdotes where Chelsea's talent is obvious. She doesn't have to be wildly offensive, she chooses to be.

I find myself wanting to check out her other books, but she really doesn't deserve a second more of my time. show less

Ah, I had high hopes for this book. I mean, for crying out loud, it has VODKA in the title! When I first heard about it, I thought I'd need to go hunt down a copy, but then life intervened. So - how many years later? Six? I finally decided to just do it - just get this book and read it.

Little did I know I'd actually have to be DRINKING vodka to appreciate this book.

Unfortunately, I read this book stone cold sober.

First of all, I barely know who Chelsea Handler is. I mean, that's crazy, show more right? I watched the Chelsea show with Donna Prepon which I actually LIKED, believe it or not. And, for all of it's low ratings, it was actually funnier than this book. Well, a colonoscopy would be funnier than this book. Who on earth calls their father "bitch tits"? I know that humor should always be edgy but should it be this disturbing?

Is it just me? I must admit the more I read of this book the more I thought - it's me. I'M the one who's not funny. I'M the one taking everyone and everything too seriously, right? Right? I mean I'm not even laughing. Oh, vodka, where are you when I need you? I think I read this drinking a diet soda. Wrong, so wrong. Like when Chelsea realizes she can have a pleasant time with her dad in Costa Rica only after she buys reefer from the hotel gardener, I realized too late that this book might be a father figure but I couldn't find the local man watering the azaleas.

So, Chelsea, our relationship ends here. I know you won't care (after all, I'm not a little person) and if anyone asks what went wrong, I'll have to tell them the truth - I think I prefer tequila. show less

This wasn't entirely what I was expecting from Handler. I've read a few of her books in the past and as a general rule, her humor focuses on drinking, sex and general trainwreckery. There was some of that in this one too, but her tone was much less flip and vulnerable. The book focuses on Handler's decision to enter therapy and the childhood issues, especially the death of her older brother, that decision resurfaces. Handler remains characteristically blunt in her assessments, which leads to show more some moments of real honesty about her own behavior and flaws. I wish this had been marketed as a clear departure from her other work because I think there are many people who aren't fans of her previous work that might really enjoy this one. show less