The Last Black Unicorn
by Tiffany Haddish
I went into this book really prepared to enjoy it. The last few memoirs I’ve read have been fun and informative. And while there were some good parts (I especially loved her talking about how she found comedy, and it was heartbreaking reading about what happened to her mom), I can’t get over the chapter on Roscoe.
There’s nothing funny about making fun of disabled people. We’re not the punchline to your joke, no matter how good your supposed intentions are. The whole chapter made me supremely uncomfortable, especially because I know we were supposed to be laughing, or at the very least enjoying ourselves. The whole rest of the book was tainted by that one chapter.
by Jim Edgar
This is a little book I picked up at Goodwill because it’s 244 pictures of cats with captions. A handful of these weren’t good (too many sex jokes), but it’s 244 pictures of cats, how could I go wrong for a dollar? It’s the last book I read in January, so that was a nice ending to a busy month.
Overall, I’ve read twenty-five books this past month alone. I’ve got at least thirteen to pick up at the library tomorrow. With four ARCs on top of that, my February is looking to be very, um, booked.
I’ll see myself out now.