3.5 Stars 
 "It is exhausting being me. Pretending to be normal is draining and requires amazing amounts of energy and Xanax." 
 Indisputably entertaining, despite feeling pretty direct blog-to-book in structure. 
 Told as a semi-chronological collection of unlikely-yet-believable stories, this book is chock full of irreverent absurdities and breezy, tangential sarcasm. (Not recommended for skittish animal lovers, those with an aversion to profanity, nor the generally faint of heart.) 
 I say "unlikely-yet-believable" because I found that an unsettling amount of Jenny's childhood mirrored my own. Growing up on iffy well-water? Check. Bow-hunting dad who regularly brought home wild animals to butcher in-house? Check. Raising a litter of baby raccoons because Dad killed the mom before realizing she had babies? Check. ... >.> I found myself vaguely hopeful she'd admit to her family having made casual consumptive work out of fresh roadkill, but alas, I may actually have her beat in one or two areas. 
 The whole "my childhood was weirder and more traumatizing than your childhood" contest air did become a touch tedious at certain intervals. While the delightfully morbid humor carries well throughout, it also impedes things a bit on the soul-bearing memoir side. When we get to the point of multiple miscarriages and a (hopefully brief but unspecified) slide into suicidal depression, the author acknowledges that there's simply no feasible way of making any of said content funny. But rather than opening up, her vulnerability feels fleeting--rushed along as an unfortunate bump in the road with little exploration. Here we really had a chance to get to know the author, and it was glossed over. 
 Note: Lawson does have poignant acknowledging and encouraging words for those struggling with depression. For that, I appreciate and applaud her. 
 I was glad the version I read contained an extra portion at the end--one which actually raised the star rating in my personal estimation, because it showed Jenny in a cheeky-yet-compassionate light that was so appealingly humanizing, I wished it had been included closer to the beginning. (As it involved her first job at a snow cone stand, it probably would have better fit in an early chapter.) 
 Favorite Quote: 
 "...I just want to clarify that I don't mean 'without my vagina' like I didn't have it with me at the time. I just mean that I wasn't, you know...displaying it while I was at Starbucks. That's probably understood, but I thought I should clarify, since it's the first chapter and you don't know that much about me. So just to clarify, I always have my vagina with me. It's like my American Express card. (In that I don't leave home without it. Not that I use it to buy stuff with."