Meaty: Essays by Samantha Irby, Creator of the Blog BitchesGottaEat
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Samantha Irby explodes onto the printed page with her debut collection of brand-new essays about trying to laugh her way through failed relationships, being black, taco feasts, bouts with Crohn's disease, and more. Every essay is crafted with the same scathing wit and poignant candor thousands of loyal readers have come to expect from visiting her notoriously hilarious blog, bitchesgottaeat.com.
I’m dancing to another and by the time I realize that we are moving in opposing rhythms it’s already too late. I’m not a dumb asshole anymore. I don’t make bad decisions or fuck bad people anymore, not like I did when I was a kid, yet I’m always left blindsided and dumbfounded at the end of a thing, the end of a thing that I thought was one thing and was surprised to find out was totally another. It’s so hard, because we are all just these vulnerable little babies who are trying to stick and move
housecleaning, dog walking, pedi-cab driver, etc. She changes jobs constantly, because she quits the second she’s irritated, which is always. She’s broke all the time, always relying on money from friends, and in particular her brother Jerrell, which causes enduring friction. Despite her dark moods, her stubborn poverty, and her temper, Nell maintains a mostly positive attitude. Her dating life is absolute garbage, but she continues to try to bag sketchy dudes she meets in dive bars and on the
Were we not the same women who memorized entire passages of dialogue from Sex and the City? Black people watch white shit all the time! Why all of a sudden was there a huge problem? Being black is hard. Being a black consumer of modern culture is motherfucking exhausting. Because when you’re black it’s your reflexive response to monitor black people in white Hollywood shit, just in case some jagoff writer is trying to slip some casual racism past your ass. You have to stay on goddamned alert! I
Women know how to make shit comfortable. If I never got banged on a king-size bed with NO SHEETS and ONE LUMPY PILLOW ever again in my fucking life it would be too goddamned soon. Dudes always want to try to fuck you in the abandoned warehouse in which they’re squatting. Or at least that’s what the shit fucking looks like, all bare walls and “furniture” procured from alleys and shit. Would it kill you motherfuckers to put a mat in the bathroom? To buy soap with a moisturizing agent? To have
girls are supposed to be pretty and delicate, but I came to terms with my ugliness relatively quickly. I knew that if I was ever to be rescued from a goddamned tower, prince charming better have done some motherfucking push-ups beforehand. Being ugly affords you a unique sort of freedom, and as I progressed through school I became more comfortable with how effortless some aspects of life are when you aren't considered physically attractive. Eating whatever you want is fucking amazing. So is