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Little Weirds, Jenny Slate

Little weirds is right! This book must have been written in stream of consciousness, just in paragraph form, trying desperately to organize incoherent thoughts. My first impression was of poetry… the kind of poetry that makes completely no sense. She must have been high when she wrote this, because it’s as if she opend her skull and words just dribbled out on to the laptop keys. She covers every thought, feeling, growing up, work, pain, beauty of life… but the way it’s presented, was not fond of. Perhaps if I did drugs I’d get it… but I don’t.

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