I feel like my well-rested face and disposable income convey this well enough, and yet I DO love me a shiny trinket…
(I should clarify that none of the parents I know personally look tired.)
Normally the Internet is one of my favorite things, but sometimes it can be kind of an asshole.
Like when I ask Amazon to send me a book about being child-free because it’s written by a comedian I’m currently obsessed with (Jen Kirkman — ladies, go watch her Netflix special. Gentlemen, sorry, no guarantees). So I’m mostly reading it because it’s a book by a funny woman — I’d read whatever book she wrote, but this one happens to be about not having kids.
But then Amazon’s all, “Oh, hey! I see you like books about being a Barreness. HERE ARE 600 MORE books about it!”
I’m good, Amazon, really. I don’t need THAT much support. Thanks, though.
(My personal favorite was when I bought the clutter book, and Amazon was like, “Would you like us to send you a shit-ton of other books about clutter?” YOU’RE NOT HELPING, AMAZON!)
A lot of people tell me I should do standup comedy, which is adorable, but I think I’m best relegated to written snark.
Besides, I’m watching this right now, and it looks like my niche is already well represented in the standup community.