KC Kelly is not your average female. She was often mistaken for a boy for the better part of the 90’s. She considered becoming a stripper named KoCo Puff to supplement her income in college. She has slept with a superhero and dumped her fiancé (for another woman, no less) four days before the wedding. KC is a woman who is rapidly and clumsily approaching thirty and the only things she has to show for it are an abused liver, a muffin top, and this collection of hilarious, and often self-deprecating essays, You Look Like a Boy (And Other Shamefully True Tales of a Midwestern Girl). These essays capture some of the most humiliating mishaps and hilarious exploits only the most idiotic female this side of the Mason-Dixon line could experience.
Essay topics include delightful gems such as:
Being a tomboy—“I had the Justin Bieber cut way before that girl was even born.”
Becoming a woman—“The word "puberty" for me was synonymous with "atomic bomb", "end of days", and "FML".”
Losing her virginity—“Me stripping is about as hot and sexy as watching a toothless lunch lady and a bald janitor have sex in a dumpster behind the high school.”
Playing sports—“I am as coordinated as a legless gymnast who suffers from vertigo and as graceful as a ribbon dancer in a straight jacket.”
The male EX fiancé—“ I felt like I was the parent of a special needs child. Everyone looked at him as if he had ridden the short bus to the house party.”
The current female fiancée—“Without her teaching me to have more patience with
stupid people, I probably would have killed someone by now. It's no secret I have a "hit list" in a framed magnet on my fridge.”
Supplemental income—“My parents made it sound like I was a prostitute who makes money by lying on my back like a starfish for some creep in a dirty hotel room near the city dump.”
Germs—“I swear serial killers have better manners and hygiene than 99% of people who travel on airplanes.”
Having children—“I’m far too selfish; I drink alcohol in massive quantities, swear like a pirate, and am completely irresponsible. Plus I barely know how to wipe my own ass. Trust me, my future baby thanks me for waiting.”
Since she is often the butt of her own jokes and has absolutely no humility, there is no topic that is off limits in KC Kelly’s debut book. Her collection of entertaining essays is sure to appeal to anyone who has ever suffered from shame, embarrassment, Open Mouth Insert Foot Disease, or bad indigestion.