I’m kind of obsessed with Chelsea Handler right now.
She’s a master of the kind of dry wit and stone faced sarcasm that I love most. She’s bold, honest and absolutely hilarious. I’m not gonna lie, those are three of my favourite personality traits in other women. She has built a nice little niche for herself by daring to say what everyone else is thinking. And it doesn’t hurt that she’s a total babe.
The Jersey girl has three very awesome comic memoirs to her name (all of which were on the New York Times bestseller list at one point and all of which have caused me to laugh my hiney off at various times in their largely vodka-and-unresolved-childhood-rage-fueled proceedings). Funny and completely brilliant. I couldn’t put them down. I hope to hell that Chelsea is working on her next piece of work as I write this.
If you’re looking for some good reading material for the beach this summer, I highly recommend all of Chelsea’s books. I guarantee you’ll laugh out loud. There’s a very good chance I’ll read them all over again before the summer ends.
I’m also pretty sure that if I ever met Chelsea in person, we would instantly become best friends and subsequently drink copious amounts of vodka together. I heart you, Ms. Handler.