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You Can't Drink All Day If You Don't Start in the Morning
From the author of the bestselling classics We’re Just Like You, Only Prettier, and Bless Your Heart, Tramp, comes a collection of essays so funny, you’ll shoot co’cola out of your nose. Topics include such gems as:
• Why Miss North Carolina is too nice to hate
• How Gwyneth Paltrow wants to improve your pathetic life
• Strapped for cash? Try cat whispering
• Sex every night for a year? How do you wrap that?
• Get yer Wassail on: It’s carolin’ time
• Airlines serving up one hot mess
• Action figure Jesus
• Why Clay Aiken ain’t marrying your glandular daughter
• And much more!
You Can’t Drink All Day if You Don’t Start in the Mornin’ is sure to appeal to anyone who lives south of something.
• Why Miss North Carolina is too nice to hate
• How Gwyneth Paltrow wants to improve your pathetic life
• Strapped for cash? Try cat whispering
• Sex every night for a year? How do you wrap that?
• Get yer Wassail on: It’s carolin’ time
• Airlines serving up one hot mess
• Action figure Jesus
• Why Clay Aiken ain’t marrying your glandular daughter
• And much more!
You Can’t Drink All Day if You Don’t Start in the Mornin’ is sure to appeal to anyone who lives south of something.
4 pages, Audio CD
First published August 29, 2009
60 people are currently reading
3545 people want to read
About the author
Celia Rivenbark
11 books461 followersCelia Rivenbark was born and raised in Duplin County, NC, which had the distinction of being the nation's number 1 producer of hogs and turkeys during a brief, magical moment in the early 1980s.
Celia grew up in a small house in the country with a red barn out back that was populated by a couple of dozen lanky and unvaccinated cats. Her grandparents' house, just across the ditch, had the first indoor plumbing in Teachey, NC and family lore swears that people came from miles around just to watch the toilet flush.
Despite this proud plumbing tradition, Celia grew up without a washer and dryer. On every Sunday afternoon of her childhood, while her mama rested up from preparing a fried chicken and sweet potato casserole lunch, she, her sister and her daddy rode to the laundromat two miles away to do the weekly wash.
It was at this laundromat, where a carefully lettered sign reminded customers that management was "NOT RESONSIBLE" for lost items, that Celia shirked "resonsibility" her own self and snuck away to read the big, fat Sunday News & Observer out of Raleigh, NC. By age 7, she'd decided to be a newspaper reporter.
Late nights, she'd listen to the feed trucks rattle by on the highway and she'd go to sleep wondering what exotic cities those noisy trucks would be in by morning (Richmond? Atlanta? Charlotte?) Their headlights crawling across the walls of her little pink bedroom at the edge of a soybean field were like constellations pointing the way to a bigger life, a better place, a place where there wasn't so much turkey shit everywhere.
After a couple of years of college, Celia went to work for her hometown paper, the Wallace, NC Enterprise. The locals loved to say, as they renewed their "perscriptions," that "you can eat a pot of rice and read the Enterprise and go to bed with nothing on your stomach and nothing on your mind."
Mebbe. But Celia loved the Enterprise. Where else could you cover a dead body being hauled out of the river (alcohol was once again a contributing factor) in the morning and then write up weddings in the afternoon?
After eight years, however, taking front-page photos of the publisher shaking hands with other fez-wearing Shriners and tomatoes shaped like male "ginny-talia" was losing its appeal.
Celia went to work for the Wilmington, NC Morning Star after a savvy features editor was charmed by a lead paragraph in an Enterprise story about the rare birth of a mule: "Her mother was a nag and her father was a jackass."
The Morning Star was no News and Observer but it came out every day and Celia got to write weddings for 55,000 readers instead of 3,500, plus she got a paycheck every two weeks with that nifty New York Times logo on it.
After an unfortunate stint as a copy editor - her ass expanded to a good six ax handles across - Celia started writing a weekly humor column that fulfilled her lifelong dream of being paid to be a smart ass. Along the way, she won a bunch of press awards, including a national health journalism award - hilarious when you consider she's never met a steamed vegetable she could keep down.
Having met and married a cute guy in sports, Celia found herself happily knocked up at age 40 and, after 21 years, she quit newspapering to stay home with her new baby girl.
After a year or so, she started using Sophie's two-hour naps to write a humor column from the mommie front lines for the Sun News in Myrtle Beach, S.C. The column continues to run weekly and is syndicated by the McClatchy-Tribune News Services.
In 2000, Coastal Carolina Press published a collection of Celia's columns. A Southeast Book Sellers Association best-seller, Bless Your Heart, Tramp was nominated for the James Thurber Prize in 2001. David Sedaris won. He wins everything.
http://us.macmillan.com/author/celiar...
Celia grew up in a small house in the country with a red barn out back that was populated by a couple of dozen lanky and unvaccinated cats. Her grandparents' house, just across the ditch, had the first indoor plumbing in Teachey, NC and family lore swears that people came from miles around just to watch the toilet flush.
Despite this proud plumbing tradition, Celia grew up without a washer and dryer. On every Sunday afternoon of her childhood, while her mama rested up from preparing a fried chicken and sweet potato casserole lunch, she, her sister and her daddy rode to the laundromat two miles away to do the weekly wash.
It was at this laundromat, where a carefully lettered sign reminded customers that management was "NOT RESONSIBLE" for lost items, that Celia shirked "resonsibility" her own self and snuck away to read the big, fat Sunday News & Observer out of Raleigh, NC. By age 7, she'd decided to be a newspaper reporter.
Late nights, she'd listen to the feed trucks rattle by on the highway and she'd go to sleep wondering what exotic cities those noisy trucks would be in by morning (Richmond? Atlanta? Charlotte?) Their headlights crawling across the walls of her little pink bedroom at the edge of a soybean field were like constellations pointing the way to a bigger life, a better place, a place where there wasn't so much turkey shit everywhere.
After a couple of years of college, Celia went to work for her hometown paper, the Wallace, NC Enterprise. The locals loved to say, as they renewed their "perscriptions," that "you can eat a pot of rice and read the Enterprise and go to bed with nothing on your stomach and nothing on your mind."
Mebbe. But Celia loved the Enterprise. Where else could you cover a dead body being hauled out of the river (alcohol was once again a contributing factor) in the morning and then write up weddings in the afternoon?
After eight years, however, taking front-page photos of the publisher shaking hands with other fez-wearing Shriners and tomatoes shaped like male "ginny-talia" was losing its appeal.
Celia went to work for the Wilmington, NC Morning Star after a savvy features editor was charmed by a lead paragraph in an Enterprise story about the rare birth of a mule: "Her mother was a nag and her father was a jackass."
The Morning Star was no News and Observer but it came out every day and Celia got to write weddings for 55,000 readers instead of 3,500, plus she got a paycheck every two weeks with that nifty New York Times logo on it.
After an unfortunate stint as a copy editor - her ass expanded to a good six ax handles across - Celia started writing a weekly humor column that fulfilled her lifelong dream of being paid to be a smart ass. Along the way, she won a bunch of press awards, including a national health journalism award - hilarious when you consider she's never met a steamed vegetable she could keep down.
Having met and married a cute guy in sports, Celia found herself happily knocked up at age 40 and, after 21 years, she quit newspapering to stay home with her new baby girl.
After a year or so, she started using Sophie's two-hour naps to write a humor column from the mommie front lines for the Sun News in Myrtle Beach, S.C. The column continues to run weekly and is syndicated by the McClatchy-Tribune News Services.
In 2000, Coastal Carolina Press published a collection of Celia's columns. A Southeast Book Sellers Association best-seller, Bless Your Heart, Tramp was nominated for the James Thurber Prize in 2001. David Sedaris won. He wins everything.
http://us.macmillan.com/author/celiar...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 326 reviews
January 2, 2013
So I've read through a few of the one-star ratings of this book. If you don't like Southern humor, don't like the word "y'all," aren't fond of the nicknames and niceties so common in the South, and hate grits, you probably won't like this book.
At all.
But for the rest of y'all, read on! Her commentary on everything from raising a family to Clay Aiken to mom jeans to going green is slap-your-momma hilarious. This is the book I loan to anyone who needs a better understanding of what I experienced growing up in the South.
The print book is great, but the audiobook (read by the author!) is particularly lovely and great for roadtrips!
At all.
But for the rest of y'all, read on! Her commentary on everything from raising a family to Clay Aiken to mom jeans to going green is slap-your-momma hilarious. This is the book I loan to anyone who needs a better understanding of what I experienced growing up in the South.
The print book is great, but the audiobook (read by the author!) is particularly lovely and great for roadtrips!
October 23, 2011
After I finished this book and headed to Goodreads, I considered writing a review to explain my one-star rating. In the end I decided that I need to because a) dammit, I wanted humor but was handed 242 pages of stale personality and b) I simply feel the need to justify a low rating when the average is higher.
Note that before I requested this book from the library, I read the title and thought, Witty. I don’t judge books by their covers, but I often judge them by titles before I get around to reading the summaries. In essence, the title alone tickled my fancy because you have to admit: it’s not only a catchy phrase but it’s also pretty amusing, and I assumed the text in between the front and back covers would match. I was wrong.
It’s been some time since I read a book that made me laugh out loud, and that is what I was hoping for (and expecting). So naturally I opened Rivenbark’s book with enthusiasm only to read the first few pages and feel… disappointed. Well that’s okay. Maybe it gets better after this point, I thought, which then became, No. Okay. Maybe it will pick up after this, then? But it didn’t, at least not for me and here’s why:
Rivenbark presents a general characterization of the South that, I feel, detracts from her writing. Examples:
and
(Apologies, as there are probably better quotes to use as examples, but I don't particularly feel like scoping the book once more.)
Rivenbark's talk of the South bordered between pride and, at times, a little something like, "Well, you know. This is the South, after all: home to rednecks, grammar degeneration, and food that'll make you plumper than a Thanksgiving turkey. We rock, but please excuse us." It felt too embellished with excessive exaggeration. Given that all regions have their own unique personalities and quirks, I think of people I know and have met who are from the South and are nothing like Rivenbark's depiction. The constant mentioning of it felt shoved in my face in just about every part of this book, as in, "No, this is not the North, West, or even the East--this is the motherfricking South, all right?"
And just in case I didn't understand that the first five dozen times, there was plenty more of this throughout my read.
Adding on, I have a behemoth-sized squabble over what some might consider small detail, and that's with Rivenbark's way of addressing not just the reader, but her family. Every time I spotted "duh-hubby" (which she sometimes shortens to just "Duh" or "hubby"), I thought my body would combust from an explosion of full-blown annoyance. For a short time I even wondered if his name actually was Duh until I read it's Scott. This annoyance, however, also erupted each time I read "the Princess," which is the name she often uses in reference to her daughter. No, I'm not a parent, so I can't partake in that affection and pride a mother may feel. I can understand it, though, but it didn't stop me from wishing my eyes could roll backward a full 360 degrees. The nickname alone sent bad shivers across my skin, and every time her daughter or husband were mentioned I found myself thinking, Oh no. Is this supposed to be funny? As for the manner in which readers are addressed: "hon" does not sit well with me, and the repetitious "y'all" grew on my nerves.
Y'all, hons, and duh-hubby all together, which sums up a great distaste I have. It's as simple as that. Subjective, yes, but it's the truth. Even if these elements were removed, I would still find myself dissatisfied because what I read hardly touched my funny bone.
I would look at reviews and ratings around the Internet and wonder what the hell I'm not getting. By the time I finally reached the last page, I felt glad it was over. This is not the emotion I like to have after I finish reading something. I want to be hit with What? You mean this is the last page? What am I going to do with my life now that it's over? and then I'll proceed to re-read my favorite parts and shove it in the face of everyone I know, because I want them to love as much as I love it. You Can't Drink All Day If You Don't Start in the Morning was difficult to get through, but I'm one of those people who prefers to finish a book once I've dug into it. Besides, what good is a rating at all when I didn't finish the book?
This isn't to say that I am entirely humorless and didn't find one part of this book entertaining. There are, in fact, several parts; albeit, there are fewer than I had hoped for and none managed to do mare than crack a small smile on my face. (Hence my disappointment.)
and
are just a couple of examples.
I can imagine anyone reading this who is a devout Celia Rivenbark fan, or merely just a fan of this book, feeling discontent with an urge to shake me by the shoulders and shout, "What a clearly inadequate taste in humor! How can you not find this funny?" I know, I have read the reviews of praise, but I am not meant for this book. It might find a spot in the hearts of other people, but Celia's humor and I do not seem to click.
Note that before I requested this book from the library, I read the title and thought, Witty. I don’t judge books by their covers, but I often judge them by titles before I get around to reading the summaries. In essence, the title alone tickled my fancy because you have to admit: it’s not only a catchy phrase but it’s also pretty amusing, and I assumed the text in between the front and back covers would match. I was wrong.
It’s been some time since I read a book that made me laugh out loud, and that is what I was hoping for (and expecting). So naturally I opened Rivenbark’s book with enthusiasm only to read the first few pages and feel… disappointed. Well that’s okay. Maybe it gets better after this point, I thought, which then became, No. Okay. Maybe it will pick up after this, then? But it didn’t, at least not for me and here’s why:
Rivenbark presents a general characterization of the South that, I feel, detracts from her writing. Examples:
Southern daughter guilt is the worst of all. We are raised to make sure everyone around us is comfortable, happy, included. I had failed miserably with this woman.
Southern men are raised to be polite. At least most of them are.
and
And, yes, it says 'Dink' on his birth certificate. This is the South; pay attention.
(Apologies, as there are probably better quotes to use as examples, but I don't particularly feel like scoping the book once more.)
Rivenbark's talk of the South bordered between pride and, at times, a little something like, "Well, you know. This is the South, after all: home to rednecks, grammar degeneration, and food that'll make you plumper than a Thanksgiving turkey. We rock, but please excuse us." It felt too embellished with excessive exaggeration. Given that all regions have their own unique personalities and quirks, I think of people I know and have met who are from the South and are nothing like Rivenbark's depiction. The constant mentioning of it felt shoved in my face in just about every part of this book, as in, "No, this is not the North, West, or even the East--this is the motherfricking South, all right?"
And just in case I didn't understand that the first five dozen times, there was plenty more of this throughout my read.
Adding on, I have a behemoth-sized squabble over what some might consider small detail, and that's with Rivenbark's way of addressing not just the reader, but her family. Every time I spotted "duh-hubby" (which she sometimes shortens to just "Duh" or "hubby"), I thought my body would combust from an explosion of full-blown annoyance. For a short time I even wondered if his name actually was Duh until I read it's Scott. This annoyance, however, also erupted each time I read "the Princess," which is the name she often uses in reference to her daughter. No, I'm not a parent, so I can't partake in that affection and pride a mother may feel. I can understand it, though, but it didn't stop me from wishing my eyes could roll backward a full 360 degrees. The nickname alone sent bad shivers across my skin, and every time her daughter or husband were mentioned I found myself thinking, Oh no. Is this supposed to be funny? As for the manner in which readers are addressed: "hon" does not sit well with me, and the repetitious "y'all" grew on my nerves.
There are two kinds of people in this world: those who drive convertibles and, well, the rest of y'all.
That's right, hons. Thanks to a whopping birthday surprise from duh-hubby...
Y'all, hons, and duh-hubby all together, which sums up a great distaste I have. It's as simple as that. Subjective, yes, but it's the truth. Even if these elements were removed, I would still find myself dissatisfied because what I read hardly touched my funny bone.
I would look at reviews and ratings around the Internet and wonder what the hell I'm not getting. By the time I finally reached the last page, I felt glad it was over. This is not the emotion I like to have after I finish reading something. I want to be hit with What? You mean this is the last page? What am I going to do with my life now that it's over? and then I'll proceed to re-read my favorite parts and shove it in the face of everyone I know, because I want them to love as much as I love it. You Can't Drink All Day If You Don't Start in the Morning was difficult to get through, but I'm one of those people who prefers to finish a book once I've dug into it. Besides, what good is a rating at all when I didn't finish the book?
This isn't to say that I am entirely humorless and didn't find one part of this book entertaining. There are, in fact, several parts; albeit, there are fewer than I had hoped for and none managed to do mare than crack a small smile on my face. (Hence my disappointment.)
Extreme mom jeans even come in odious pale blue washes and feature an elastic waist that tells the world: 'Why, as a matter of fact, my idea of a good time is dinner at the Cracker Barrel at four p.m. followed by a Murder, She Wrote marathon on TNT.'
and
Marathon runners squirt little packets of brown gel into their mouths every few miles to give themselves a burst of protein. I'll join them as soon as they can condense that to tiny little lasagna casseroles.
are just a couple of examples.
I can imagine anyone reading this who is a devout Celia Rivenbark fan, or merely just a fan of this book, feeling discontent with an urge to shake me by the shoulders and shout, "What a clearly inadequate taste in humor! How can you not find this funny?" I know, I have read the reviews of praise, but I am not meant for this book. It might find a spot in the hearts of other people, but Celia's humor and I do not seem to click.
July 1, 2015
As always, I love a smart Southern girl with a dirty mouth.
September 3, 2011
I've got mixed feeling about this book. It didn't make me laugh out loud, but there were quite a few things that I thought were funny. I don't know if you have to be Southern to get her humor, but I'm sure it wouldn't hurt. I did think she played up the Hick-Factor a bit too much, and I found it a little tiring towards the end.
However, Rivenbark caught my attention right off the bat by lampooning something that I have long hated...The Perfect Attendance Award. I cringe inside every time some poor kid wins that award. Then the principal gives her stupid little speech about how, "All of the kids up on this stage have come to school every day, even when they didn't feel good". What does that mean, exactly? Well, let me tell you what it means. It means that @!$#ing kid got one of my kids sick, who in turn infected everyone else in my house...that's what it means. I'm here to tell you, having four little kids with raging diarrhea for a week will change your religion! I hate those Alpha Parent assholes.
What is an Alpha Parent, you ask? If any of you out there have kids in school, then you know who I'm talking about. For those of you who don't, they are these crazy parents who get too wrapped up in their kids' lives. They are actually spectacular creatures to watch in action.
By God, Johnny will get that award! Give 'em a Tylenol and send 'em to class!
You'll find quite a few of them on the PTA. Yeah, you know who you are.
So, the moral of the story is, parents don't be so competitive. Your kid will not get into a better college just because they got that retarded award. And if I find out which one of you is responsible for Diarrhea '08...May God have mercy on your soul.
Rivenbark also touched on several other things I could personally relate to. One being the small southern town's way of overlooking Quirky People. You know, the crazies that other sections of the country probably lock up. Jill, if you're reading this, do you remember that guy who hung around the high school, and (reportedly) like to poop in his boots and show it off? Good times.
So, yes. This book had cute moments, and I recognized quite a few things from my upbringing. And no, I don't know anyone in the south who really talks like that...much. Y'all.
However, Rivenbark caught my attention right off the bat by lampooning something that I have long hated...The Perfect Attendance Award. I cringe inside every time some poor kid wins that award. Then the principal gives her stupid little speech about how, "All of the kids up on this stage have come to school every day, even when they didn't feel good". What does that mean, exactly? Well, let me tell you what it means. It means that @!$#ing kid got one of my kids sick, who in turn infected everyone else in my house...that's what it means. I'm here to tell you, having four little kids with raging diarrhea for a week will change your religion! I hate those Alpha Parent assholes.
What is an Alpha Parent, you ask? If any of you out there have kids in school, then you know who I'm talking about. For those of you who don't, they are these crazy parents who get too wrapped up in their kids' lives. They are actually spectacular creatures to watch in action.
By God, Johnny will get that award! Give 'em a Tylenol and send 'em to class!
You'll find quite a few of them on the PTA. Yeah, you know who you are.
So, the moral of the story is, parents don't be so competitive. Your kid will not get into a better college just because they got that retarded award. And if I find out which one of you is responsible for Diarrhea '08...May God have mercy on your soul.
Rivenbark also touched on several other things I could personally relate to. One being the small southern town's way of overlooking Quirky People. You know, the crazies that other sections of the country probably lock up. Jill, if you're reading this, do you remember that guy who hung around the high school, and (reportedly) like to poop in his boots and show it off? Good times.
So, yes. This book had cute moments, and I recognized quite a few things from my upbringing. And no, I don't know anyone in the south who really talks like that...much. Y'all.
April 25, 2012
http://wwwdiaryofabooknerd.blogspot.com/
You know those goofy ice breaker questions people ask at corporate events? Things like “If you were stranded on an island, what three items would you want with you?” and “If you could be any ice cream flavor, what would you be?” My favorite though, is always, “If you could have a dinner party with anyone, living or dead, who would you invite?” It’s my favorite because most people try to do the ass-kissy thing and rattle off names like Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Abraham Lincoln, Shakespeare, some long lost great-great-grandparent, or even Jesus. I assume they think this makes them sound intellectual; the equivalent of a beauty queen claiming that her biggest wish is world peace. Typically, this is when I’m rolling my eyes.
As with most things, my answer to this question is usually…askew…from most. My fictional dead-or-alive dinner party would include people like Lucille Ball, Chelsea Handler, Tina Fey, Joan Rivers, Jen Lancaster, Fanny Flagg, Erma Bombeck….basically a rotating list of funny women. I can only imagine the ab workout I’d walk away with after a vodka soaked evening with these ladies.
Well, I’m happy to announce I have found a new additional to my imaginary girl-fest: Celia Rivenbark. She has been popping up as a recommended author on both Amazon and Goodreads lately, and frankly when I saw the title, “You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Mornin’” I pretty much couldn’t resist. I mean, who could?
Reading Celia Rivenbark feels a little like sitting on a sunny southern porch with a good friend, sipping cocktails and gossiping about the neighbors as they walk by. Not that I’ve even done that. Or even been to the south, really. But Rivenbark paints such a vivid image of the south, I can see it.
“You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Mornin’” is a collection of essays covering things like what life much be like for a Jesus action figure sitting on a Walmart shelf, the annoyance of Gwyneth Paltrow’s lifestyle advice, the all too familiar pain of finding pants that fit, and how a southern mamma is supposed to compete with homemade bento boxed lunches popular in Japan.
No matter what she’s talking about though, Rivenbark does it with – I almost said “down-home charm” - but that sounds really cliché and insulting. Her voice is not the over exaggerated folksy southern twang you see on TV (I’m looking at you GCB). This is a real woman with a real voice. One that speaks to the reality of life for the average woman in America. A really funny average woman in America who would rather spy on her new neighbors while half-paying attention as her daughter sets up her facebook account. A really funny average woman in America who made me laugh my ass off. Out loud. Often.
Apparently I am late to the party once again. “You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Mornin’” is Rivenbark’s 5th book. That means I need to get cracking on the other four. That way I’ll have plenty to talk about during our dinner party.
You know those goofy ice breaker questions people ask at corporate events? Things like “If you were stranded on an island, what three items would you want with you?” and “If you could be any ice cream flavor, what would you be?” My favorite though, is always, “If you could have a dinner party with anyone, living or dead, who would you invite?” It’s my favorite because most people try to do the ass-kissy thing and rattle off names like Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Abraham Lincoln, Shakespeare, some long lost great-great-grandparent, or even Jesus. I assume they think this makes them sound intellectual; the equivalent of a beauty queen claiming that her biggest wish is world peace. Typically, this is when I’m rolling my eyes.
As with most things, my answer to this question is usually…askew…from most. My fictional dead-or-alive dinner party would include people like Lucille Ball, Chelsea Handler, Tina Fey, Joan Rivers, Jen Lancaster, Fanny Flagg, Erma Bombeck….basically a rotating list of funny women. I can only imagine the ab workout I’d walk away with after a vodka soaked evening with these ladies.
Well, I’m happy to announce I have found a new additional to my imaginary girl-fest: Celia Rivenbark. She has been popping up as a recommended author on both Amazon and Goodreads lately, and frankly when I saw the title, “You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Mornin’” I pretty much couldn’t resist. I mean, who could?
Reading Celia Rivenbark feels a little like sitting on a sunny southern porch with a good friend, sipping cocktails and gossiping about the neighbors as they walk by. Not that I’ve even done that. Or even been to the south, really. But Rivenbark paints such a vivid image of the south, I can see it.
“You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Mornin’” is a collection of essays covering things like what life much be like for a Jesus action figure sitting on a Walmart shelf, the annoyance of Gwyneth Paltrow’s lifestyle advice, the all too familiar pain of finding pants that fit, and how a southern mamma is supposed to compete with homemade bento boxed lunches popular in Japan.
No matter what she’s talking about though, Rivenbark does it with – I almost said “down-home charm” - but that sounds really cliché and insulting. Her voice is not the over exaggerated folksy southern twang you see on TV (I’m looking at you GCB). This is a real woman with a real voice. One that speaks to the reality of life for the average woman in America. A really funny average woman in America who would rather spy on her new neighbors while half-paying attention as her daughter sets up her facebook account. A really funny average woman in America who made me laugh my ass off. Out loud. Often.
Apparently I am late to the party once again. “You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Mornin’” is Rivenbark’s 5th book. That means I need to get cracking on the other four. That way I’ll have plenty to talk about during our dinner party.
July 11, 2012
Hilarious! I'm loaning this to my mom, a born and bred southern woman who will appreciate little gems that complete entire chapters, such as: "Things a Man Never Says to His Southern Wife" (or something along those lines. Answer: "Honey, I cleaned the cast iron skillet. Man that thing was dirty--like it had never been washed!" I think the author is coming out with another book and will absolutely, happily be a continued reader.
July 6, 2016
Another fun, sassy, and easy read from Celia Rivenbark, with some yummy-looking recipes thrown in the mix. Recommended if you are a fan of her other works and enjoy her sarcastic sense of humor.
February 13, 2016
With the wisdom and humor of a North Carolina belle, Celia Rivenbark takes it all on in her latest book, “You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Morning,” a piece of wisdom she gained along the way. As you read these hilarious essays, you, too, will be tempted to grab your sweet tea-infused vodka bottle and join along.
From perfect attendance awards at the grade school to cat whispering, she covers it all in a context most of us understand, that being common sense. Whether she’s skewering customer service in the shoe department or the disappointment that crosses young men’s faces as she drives up in her convertible, you feel you are right there with her at the scene. She has a distinctively Southern voice and attitude (for example, manners count as does making people feel welcome), but her experiences are not unlike what any Yankee meets as they travel along the pathways of life, be it at the mall or the senior center.
What really marks her as special is that she doesn’t throw her family under the bus like so many comedians. She gives kudos to her husband for taking her to Outback (no, not Australia) to make her feel better for losing a local award contest yet again. She recognizes how important her child is to her, even as she suffers the humiliation of learning just how uncool she is when she mispronounces a rapper’s name. She rolls with the punches when a gentleman senior citizen tells her she looks like Meg Ryan, and then his female companion lets her know the man is legally blind. It’s moments like these that really endear Celia to readers and make it feel like she’s one of your best gal pals, commenting on what happened to her that day.
As a very big bonus to these stories, Rivenbark throws in her best recipes, whether for soup to make you feel better when you’ve got a cold or special oatmeal cookies, where one can only hope that the oatmeal makes up for the overabundance of butter needed.
The only disappointment with “You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Morning” is that it ends too quickly. The good news is that Rivenbark has a host of other books worth exploring, with engaging titles like “Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like a Skank.” These down-home adventures will brighten your day and make you wish you lived down South, where some nice chicken salad sandwiches can be had at “the Bingo” over at the senior center. Just cross your fingers that your mom doesn’t want to stay home and watch “her stories” instead.
Merged review:
With the wisdom and humor of a North Carolina belle, Celia Rivenbark takes it all on in her latest book, You Can't Drink All Day If You Don't Start in the Morning, a piece of wisdom she gained along the way. As you read these hilarious essays, you, too, will be tempted to grab your sweet tea-infused vodka bottle and join along.
From perfect attendance awards at the grade school to cat whispering, she covers it all in a context most of us understand, that being common sense. Whether she's skewering customer service in the shoe department or the disappointment that crosses young men's faces as she drives up in her convertible, you feel you are right there with her at the scene. She has a distinctively Southern voice and attitude (for example, manners count as does making people feel welcome), but her experiences are not unlike what any Yankee meets as they travel along the pathways of life, be it at the mall or the senior center.
What really marks her as special is that she doesn't throw her family under the bus like so many comedians. She gives kudos to her husband for taking her to Outback (no, not Australia) to make her feel better for losing a local award contest yet again. She recognizes how important her child is to her, even as she suffers the humiliation of learning just how uncool she is when she mispronounces a rapper's name. She rolls with the punches when a gentleman senior citizen tells her she looks like Meg Ryan, and then his female companion lets her know the man is legally blind. It's moments like these that really endear Celia to readers and make it feel like she's one of your best gal pals, commenting on what happened to her that day.
As a very big bonus to these stories, Rivenbark throws in her best recipes, whether for soup to make you feel better when you've got a cold or special oatmeal cookies, where one can only hope that the oatmeal makes up for the overabundance of butter needed.
The only disappointment with You Can't Drink All Day If You Don't Start in the Morning is that it ends too quickly. The good news is that Rivenbark has a host of other books worth exploring, with engaging titles like Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like a Skank. These down-home adventures will brighten your day and make you wish you lived down South, where some nice chicken salad sandwiches can be had at "the Bingo" over at the senior center. Just cross your fingers that your mom doesn't want to stay home and watch "her stories" instead.
From perfect attendance awards at the grade school to cat whispering, she covers it all in a context most of us understand, that being common sense. Whether she’s skewering customer service in the shoe department or the disappointment that crosses young men’s faces as she drives up in her convertible, you feel you are right there with her at the scene. She has a distinctively Southern voice and attitude (for example, manners count as does making people feel welcome), but her experiences are not unlike what any Yankee meets as they travel along the pathways of life, be it at the mall or the senior center.
What really marks her as special is that she doesn’t throw her family under the bus like so many comedians. She gives kudos to her husband for taking her to Outback (no, not Australia) to make her feel better for losing a local award contest yet again. She recognizes how important her child is to her, even as she suffers the humiliation of learning just how uncool she is when she mispronounces a rapper’s name. She rolls with the punches when a gentleman senior citizen tells her she looks like Meg Ryan, and then his female companion lets her know the man is legally blind. It’s moments like these that really endear Celia to readers and make it feel like she’s one of your best gal pals, commenting on what happened to her that day.
As a very big bonus to these stories, Rivenbark throws in her best recipes, whether for soup to make you feel better when you’ve got a cold or special oatmeal cookies, where one can only hope that the oatmeal makes up for the overabundance of butter needed.
The only disappointment with “You Can’t Drink All Day If You Don’t Start in the Morning” is that it ends too quickly. The good news is that Rivenbark has a host of other books worth exploring, with engaging titles like “Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like a Skank.” These down-home adventures will brighten your day and make you wish you lived down South, where some nice chicken salad sandwiches can be had at “the Bingo” over at the senior center. Just cross your fingers that your mom doesn’t want to stay home and watch “her stories” instead.
Merged review:
With the wisdom and humor of a North Carolina belle, Celia Rivenbark takes it all on in her latest book, You Can't Drink All Day If You Don't Start in the Morning, a piece of wisdom she gained along the way. As you read these hilarious essays, you, too, will be tempted to grab your sweet tea-infused vodka bottle and join along.
From perfect attendance awards at the grade school to cat whispering, she covers it all in a context most of us understand, that being common sense. Whether she's skewering customer service in the shoe department or the disappointment that crosses young men's faces as she drives up in her convertible, you feel you are right there with her at the scene. She has a distinctively Southern voice and attitude (for example, manners count as does making people feel welcome), but her experiences are not unlike what any Yankee meets as they travel along the pathways of life, be it at the mall or the senior center.
What really marks her as special is that she doesn't throw her family under the bus like so many comedians. She gives kudos to her husband for taking her to Outback (no, not Australia) to make her feel better for losing a local award contest yet again. She recognizes how important her child is to her, even as she suffers the humiliation of learning just how uncool she is when she mispronounces a rapper's name. She rolls with the punches when a gentleman senior citizen tells her she looks like Meg Ryan, and then his female companion lets her know the man is legally blind. It's moments like these that really endear Celia to readers and make it feel like she's one of your best gal pals, commenting on what happened to her that day.
As a very big bonus to these stories, Rivenbark throws in her best recipes, whether for soup to make you feel better when you've got a cold or special oatmeal cookies, where one can only hope that the oatmeal makes up for the overabundance of butter needed.
The only disappointment with You Can't Drink All Day If You Don't Start in the Morning is that it ends too quickly. The good news is that Rivenbark has a host of other books worth exploring, with engaging titles like Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like a Skank. These down-home adventures will brighten your day and make you wish you lived down South, where some nice chicken salad sandwiches can be had at "the Bingo" over at the senior center. Just cross your fingers that your mom doesn't want to stay home and watch "her stories" instead.
September 28, 2011
I have been trying to read this book for 3 months, waiting for something to pull me in and make me want to keep reading. It never happened, so, barely 100 pages in, I'm cutting my losses and moving on.
I've lived all but 11 months of my life in Texas, the majority of that in a mostly rural area on the southeast side of the state. The author clearly has a different idea of the South than I do so I couldn't relate to many of her characterizations. The inclusion of random recipes at the end of some chapters made no sense to me. Maybe if there were drink recipes, I could understand (and that would have been about the only tie-in to the book's title). It was published in late 2009, but less then 6 months later, a lot of the references to current news and entertainment (Jon & Kate, pre-seperation) felt very dated.
I tried...
I've lived all but 11 months of my life in Texas, the majority of that in a mostly rural area on the southeast side of the state. The author clearly has a different idea of the South than I do so I couldn't relate to many of her characterizations. The inclusion of random recipes at the end of some chapters made no sense to me. Maybe if there were drink recipes, I could understand (and that would have been about the only tie-in to the book's title). It was published in late 2009, but less then 6 months later, a lot of the references to current news and entertainment (Jon & Kate, pre-seperation) felt very dated.
I tried...
February 1, 2010
This is an easy, entertaining read. I am half done and started it last night! She is bold in her statements, but somethings are hilarious! I love the bit on bingo-being a bingo fan myself... and there is a "scene" from an airplane that is a riot. Also, there are strategically placed recipes among the anecdotes. I want to make the pecan pie--I personally do not like nuts, but mom does--I thought I could make several small (personal sized) ones, freeze and send.
eventhough this book is not the most thought provoking, it has provided me with some much needed laughter!
Finished this book--it was entertaining and I am going to try a few of the recipes.
eventhough this book is not the most thought provoking, it has provided me with some much needed laughter!
Finished this book--it was entertaining and I am going to try a few of the recipes.
April 19, 2014
In one word....BLAND. I skimmed through this book trying to find something worthy of my time and came up empty. I was sad about this fact. Because, well, she is a Southern lass and I wanted her to represent my clan well. I think she fell short. I did not laugh. I was sad that this book was even written. The author may have talents, but I don't think being an author is one of them. Boo. Hiss. I was really hoping for this to be a 5 star book. >.<
January 17, 2010
Celia Rivenbark's essays are always hilarious and this collection doesn't disappoint. You don't even have to be from the South to enjoy them either. The recipes at the end of each chapter are a really nice touch and I copied several of them before I send this book on to a friend.
You would probably like this if you enjoy Dave Barry, Jen Lancaster or Laurie Notaro.
You would probably like this if you enjoy Dave Barry, Jen Lancaster or Laurie Notaro.
July 17, 2013
Why didn't I know about this Author? She's like Jen Lancaster, but SOUTHERN! Felt like stories from a close, hilarious friend...almost wanted to drive straight to Wilmington and ask Celia to be exactly that!
June 3, 2020
This was such a fun book! (And we could all probably use a little fun right now...) If you're looking for a cohesive story, this ain't it. And if you don't have an appreciation for the South, this is probably not the right book. BUT if you love the South in spite of all its weird idiosyncrasies, and you don't really care if what you read goes perfectly together, and you're looking for some good recipes, or you just want to know about the title (100% why I picked it up), read this! It's hilarious!
August 16, 2021
Very funny stories from a home-grown North Carolina writer!!
December 30, 2023
3.5 rounded up to 4 - she makes me snort with laughter sometimes but not all the time.
June 20, 2011
Started this earlier today and it is hilarious! I love Southern humor and sarcasm and this book drips with both. It also has some great recipes in it. I am going to try a couple of them this week. They sound really yummy. I hope to finish this tonight before I go to sleep but I may finish it tomorrow instead.
Well I ended up going to sleep last night so I finished it this morning. It is a hoot! I read a lot of negative reviews from people who did not find it amusing or did not understand the humor. I guess you just have to be able to relate. I have three girls. One is almost 15 and the other two are 11 and 9. So I understand the school issues and the disease spreading by other kids who come to school sick and make mine sick. I understand the school projects and the never ending fundraisers and all that. I can relate to so much of it.
I have also heard people say that Rivenbark is not laughing with Southerners but AT them. For those people I ask you--- Have you seen some of these people around the South lately? Holy smokes! I have to laugh at them too. Otherwise I would curl up in a ball and worry that my kids someday might be reduced to dating guys like that. Sometimes you do have to laugh AT them. People in the south are most certainly a different breed and if you don't get them, you don't get them.
My favorite chapter was 18 when she was talking about her dad. I know how hard it is to take care of someone who is slipping in the memory department and how hard it is to deal with that sometimes. But there are always lessons to be had, even in those hard, dark places. I love how she took her "dad" for a walk and was not ashamed to tell everyone she met what was in the urn. :)
Now this is not a book for the fainthearted or for those who cannot stand harsh words and stong language. It is a bit raunchy and trashy but that is what makes it so funny in part. Also, the recipes sound so good. I am going to try the pecan pie later this week. All in all a super funny book. Don't read it if you are easily offended by "green" bashing or don't want to hear her opinion of Gwyneth Paltrow's advice to all the lowly folks of the world. I loved it!
Well I ended up going to sleep last night so I finished it this morning. It is a hoot! I read a lot of negative reviews from people who did not find it amusing or did not understand the humor. I guess you just have to be able to relate. I have three girls. One is almost 15 and the other two are 11 and 9. So I understand the school issues and the disease spreading by other kids who come to school sick and make mine sick. I understand the school projects and the never ending fundraisers and all that. I can relate to so much of it.
I have also heard people say that Rivenbark is not laughing with Southerners but AT them. For those people I ask you--- Have you seen some of these people around the South lately? Holy smokes! I have to laugh at them too. Otherwise I would curl up in a ball and worry that my kids someday might be reduced to dating guys like that. Sometimes you do have to laugh AT them. People in the south are most certainly a different breed and if you don't get them, you don't get them.
My favorite chapter was 18 when she was talking about her dad. I know how hard it is to take care of someone who is slipping in the memory department and how hard it is to deal with that sometimes. But there are always lessons to be had, even in those hard, dark places. I love how she took her "dad" for a walk and was not ashamed to tell everyone she met what was in the urn. :)
Now this is not a book for the fainthearted or for those who cannot stand harsh words and stong language. It is a bit raunchy and trashy but that is what makes it so funny in part. Also, the recipes sound so good. I am going to try the pecan pie later this week. All in all a super funny book. Don't read it if you are easily offended by "green" bashing or don't want to hear her opinion of Gwyneth Paltrow's advice to all the lowly folks of the world. I loved it!
January 6, 2010
If I had read some of her other books, perhaps I would have felt differently upon beginning with a chapter describing how she hates kids who achieve perfect attendance in school, especially at the health expense of other kids at the school. Had she simply said what I stated above and not boo-ed the children off the stage, maybe I would have been fine with it.
I do take a little offense to someone from North Carolina thinks she's a true Southern girl. That's like somewhere I read that Kentucky was considered a part of the south. Um, what? I consider the South (where I'm from, consequently), Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and Florida, and maybe parts of Arkansas. Everything else is in the middle of the country, not the South. Perhaps some people need better geography lessons.
Despite the all-out-bitch feel to the book, I actually enjoyed most of the stories, some of which made me smile if not giggle a little to myself. Some things she identifies as Southern must really just be Carolinan, because here in the real South, we don't do what she suggests is common place. However, we do have the strange preacher people who liked to engage others in religious discussion, and by religious discussion I mean far worse than she describes in her book, we have a guy who walks around carrying a cross and hands out mini-Bibles to everyone he meets. That wouldn't be so bad except that he's pretty forceful with his public speaking, so I've been told (I've never actually seen him).
This book is a satirical humor book and is very entertaining as such. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone easily offended or staunchly conservative.
- Finally arrived. Will start reading.
- Waiting for this to come in the mail.
I do take a little offense to someone from North Carolina thinks she's a true Southern girl. That's like somewhere I read that Kentucky was considered a part of the south. Um, what? I consider the South (where I'm from, consequently), Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and Florida, and maybe parts of Arkansas. Everything else is in the middle of the country, not the South. Perhaps some people need better geography lessons.
Despite the all-out-bitch feel to the book, I actually enjoyed most of the stories, some of which made me smile if not giggle a little to myself. Some things she identifies as Southern must really just be Carolinan, because here in the real South, we don't do what she suggests is common place. However, we do have the strange preacher people who liked to engage others in religious discussion, and by religious discussion I mean far worse than she describes in her book, we have a guy who walks around carrying a cross and hands out mini-Bibles to everyone he meets. That wouldn't be so bad except that he's pretty forceful with his public speaking, so I've been told (I've never actually seen him).
This book is a satirical humor book and is very entertaining as such. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone easily offended or staunchly conservative.
- Finally arrived. Will start reading.
- Waiting for this to come in the mail.
October 19, 2012
I registered a book at BookCrossing.com!
http://www.BookCrossing.com/journal/11214133
This was a funny and touching collection of essays by Celia Rivenbark looking at snips of Southern life and culture. There were even a few recipes that are channeling Paula Deen (anything that calls for 2 sticks of butter...)
Some of the quotes I liked:
"This is usually a prelude to something that is going to be pretty harsh. Just as we bless the heart in the South before we remove it and stomp on it."
"It's easy to be grateful for the obvious blessings in life, much harder to be grateful for the tough moments and the lessons they teach."
And the most laugh-out-loud, read-to-your-husband moment was from a story about an Australian mayor of a small town with a deficit of women. He put out the word that this would be a great place for homely women since they have a 5:1 ratio of men to women. The comeback of the year goes to Anna Warrick who said that the men were not God's gift by noting:
"We have a saying up here that the odds are good, but the goods are odd."
Kinda brings a tear to your eye, doesn't it?
http://www.BookCrossing.com/journal/11214133
This was a funny and touching collection of essays by Celia Rivenbark looking at snips of Southern life and culture. There were even a few recipes that are channeling Paula Deen (anything that calls for 2 sticks of butter...)
Some of the quotes I liked:
"This is usually a prelude to something that is going to be pretty harsh. Just as we bless the heart in the South before we remove it and stomp on it."
"It's easy to be grateful for the obvious blessings in life, much harder to be grateful for the tough moments and the lessons they teach."
And the most laugh-out-loud, read-to-your-husband moment was from a story about an Australian mayor of a small town with a deficit of women. He put out the word that this would be a great place for homely women since they have a 5:1 ratio of men to women. The comeback of the year goes to Anna Warrick who said that the men were not God's gift by noting:
"We have a saying up here that the odds are good, but the goods are odd."
Kinda brings a tear to your eye, doesn't it?
April 28, 2011
As Celia Rivenbark says herself, it's humorous non-fiction. And it's great! This lady may prove to be a Southerner with her quirky sayings and her charm, but her forthrightness and outspokenness could've come straight from the North! Trust me, I've lived in both and she could pull it off.
Now, these types of books are extremely hard to review, because well... there's no synopsis of a story. Yet, Rivenbark still manages to entertain, give you a chuckle, and lead you straight to outright laugh-out-loud moments. From the most innocuous to the most outlandish, she sees and tells the hilarity in every situation.
The title? Well, it's just catches your eye doesn't it? It caught mine. But you'll have to read the book to see where and why Rivenbark came across this little gem of ultimate wisdom. I'll give you a hint it's from a family member. And you thought your family was different? Nope, she'll show you, you're normal. And no, I won't tell you the wisdom. You'll just have to find it for yourself.
Now, these types of books are extremely hard to review, because well... there's no synopsis of a story. Yet, Rivenbark still manages to entertain, give you a chuckle, and lead you straight to outright laugh-out-loud moments. From the most innocuous to the most outlandish, she sees and tells the hilarity in every situation.
The title? Well, it's just catches your eye doesn't it? It caught mine. But you'll have to read the book to see where and why Rivenbark came across this little gem of ultimate wisdom. I'll give you a hint it's from a family member. And you thought your family was different? Nope, she'll show you, you're normal. And no, I won't tell you the wisdom. You'll just have to find it for yourself.
July 30, 2011
Rivenbark is a Southern humor writer, and her book is filled with catty observations about her town, witticisms regarding Southern life and even a few F-bombs. She doesn't hold back, and takes absolute glee in letting loose on whatever and whomever her target may be, from Gwyneth Paltrow to "the cat whisperer." Oh, and Claymates (Clay Aiken fan club members). That was a pretty hilarious chapter. There are some poignant moments (the death of her father, a trip to NYC with her daughter), which help you relate to Rivenbark and care about her, but for the most part the hits just keep coming. Christmas carolers and beauty queens, beware!
I will say that, having never lived in the South and being considerably younger than Rivenbark, I could not always relate to the stories Rivenbark told. It wasn't laugh-a-minute for me, like it might be for others. Sometimes, it seemed like Rivenbark was reaching a bit too far for that laugh. But the parts that work really work, and I enjoyed the overall experience.
I will say that, having never lived in the South and being considerably younger than Rivenbark, I could not always relate to the stories Rivenbark told. It wasn't laugh-a-minute for me, like it might be for others. Sometimes, it seemed like Rivenbark was reaching a bit too far for that laugh. But the parts that work really work, and I enjoyed the overall experience.
July 8, 2011
This is the third book I have read (or listened to) by Celia Rivenbark, as usual, she does not disappoint. I could listen to her tell her stories forever. This is Southern humor at it's finest.
Since I listened to the book, I can't really go back and find my favorite parts. One that stayed with me was her take on Gweneth Paltrow's website. She talks about Gweneth's ideas on how to help us lead a fuller life. One of the Gwennie's suggestions is to "cook a meal for one you love". Celia's reply, "I do. It's called dinner, and I do it seven nights a week."
This book is funny from the first page to the last page. In the epilogue, she talks about where her writing should go next. Maybe she should jump on the vampire band wagon. Only he would be a Southern vampire, with pick up lines like, "Are you from Tennessee, because you are the only 10 I see."
I highly recommend the audio book, listening to these stories with her honeyed Southern drawl is perfect.
Since I listened to the book, I can't really go back and find my favorite parts. One that stayed with me was her take on Gweneth Paltrow's website. She talks about Gweneth's ideas on how to help us lead a fuller life. One of the Gwennie's suggestions is to "cook a meal for one you love". Celia's reply, "I do. It's called dinner, and I do it seven nights a week."
This book is funny from the first page to the last page. In the epilogue, she talks about where her writing should go next. Maybe she should jump on the vampire band wagon. Only he would be a Southern vampire, with pick up lines like, "Are you from Tennessee, because you are the only 10 I see."
I highly recommend the audio book, listening to these stories with her honeyed Southern drawl is perfect.
December 25, 2013
I'm just going to say it: I've been a huge fan of Celia Rivenbark since I picked up Bless Your Heart, Tramp: And Other Southern Endearments in a Palm Springs gift shop for a January poolside read (you can do that in January at Palm Springs). So, every time I run across a new-to-me title, I pick it up for what I know will be a ripping good read.
Filled with her trademark humor, Rivenbark uses this outing to lampoon everything from cussing at appliances to people who were mad when Clay Aiken came out ... and she includes recipes for Southern goodies mentioned in the stories.
As always, an entertaining read from one of premiere female humorists today.
Filled with her trademark humor, Rivenbark uses this outing to lampoon everything from cussing at appliances to people who were mad when Clay Aiken came out ... and she includes recipes for Southern goodies mentioned in the stories.
As always, an entertaining read from one of premiere female humorists today.
November 23, 2015
When I picked this up, my sister warned me that Celia Rivenbark is the most annoying woman alive. While I may not want to make her my BFF, I nonetheless thought that You Can't Drink All Day If You Don't Start in the Morning, which is basically a collection of diatribes against the world written by a slightly drunk Southern woman, was pretty fucking funny.
“I have several close friends who have run marathons, a word that is actually derived from two Swahili words: mara, which means 'to die a horrible death', and thon, which means 'for a stupid T-shirt.' Look it up.”
Rivenbark peppers the book with similar statements, commenting on her crazy Southern friends, popular trends, etc. Nothing spectacular for a memoir, really, but it's still pretty funny. She also includes some random recipes, with little stories about the people who provided them. Some of them look pretty damn good -- especially the alcoholic ones...
“I have several close friends who have run marathons, a word that is actually derived from two Swahili words: mara, which means 'to die a horrible death', and thon, which means 'for a stupid T-shirt.' Look it up.”
Rivenbark peppers the book with similar statements, commenting on her crazy Southern friends, popular trends, etc. Nothing spectacular for a memoir, really, but it's still pretty funny. She also includes some random recipes, with little stories about the people who provided them. Some of them look pretty damn good -- especially the alcoholic ones...
February 15, 2015
Way to negative for me! I'm sure the author meant to be humorous in a sarcastic way, but all I walked away with was an overwhelming sense of the author's general grievances about pretty much everyone and everything. I really tried to keep reading in hopes that I would eventually "find the funny" in the writing, but I found myself only getting depressed from the barrage of negative and criticizing commentary. Who wants to spend hours reading a book that's supposed to make you laugh only to find every page is a continual complaint about how screwed up everyone is? I've certainly read many books that take societal flaws as topics for humorous commentary. However, this book was just plain mean. I finally had to put my misery to an end about a third of the way through and called it quits. I then picked up Ellen Degeneres latest book. Now SHE is a funny writer with a good spirit and a true comedic view of the world that allows the reader to walk away feeling happy.
December 28, 2014
This is not a book so much as a collection of columns - which is fine, but it definitely is a bit of a jolt, as the author sort of meanders in and out of subjects at an alarming rate.
The other thing is, though I'm a Southern girl myself and some things certainly rang true, it's a bit crass at parts and a lot of the humor is based around current events. For instance, I have never seen, nor would ever want to, Kate and 8 or whatever that show is called. There is an entire column surrounding it. Honestly, the author hits her stride when she talks about some of the things common to a small town in the South - crazy old lady drivers who get away with it, every Southern child having at least one story about a snake eating a frog, and crazy preachers; the rest is somewhat more based around pop culture, so if you have no idea who Clay Aiken is, probably not your cup of (sweet) tea.
The other thing is, though I'm a Southern girl myself and some things certainly rang true, it's a bit crass at parts and a lot of the humor is based around current events. For instance, I have never seen, nor would ever want to, Kate and 8 or whatever that show is called. There is an entire column surrounding it. Honestly, the author hits her stride when she talks about some of the things common to a small town in the South - crazy old lady drivers who get away with it, every Southern child having at least one story about a snake eating a frog, and crazy preachers; the rest is somewhat more based around pop culture, so if you have no idea who Clay Aiken is, probably not your cup of (sweet) tea.
August 25, 2013
It's important to remember that memoirs are just that: memories from someone's childhood and/or adulthood. They are anecdotal stories meant to offer up a different perspective than our own. While this was no remarkable literary experience, there were pieces that made me laugh. I appreciated the first chapter where she discussed parents who are motivated by an OfficeDepot piece of paper celebrating perfect attendance, while their children are hosts of the viral plague. Not being from the South, I laughed at her descriptions of crazy people, and how Southerners embrace their crazies. A particularly touching chapter was the chapter she talked about her dad's passing. This isn't Celia's best book, in my opinion, but a memoir it is.
May 18, 2016
If you like Southern Humor you have got to read Celia Rivenbark's books I really enjoyed this book, I listened to it (twice actually) on audio its read by the author. It is laugh out loud funny she has a way of telling a story that has commentary on life told in an irreverent funny way. I loved the chapter about faith based toys, and when she is talking about listening to Flo Rida and pronounces it Florida just to bug her daughter. Every chapter will make you laugh and you'll see people in your life or things in world from a different view.
If you like humor and especially southern humor read this book and everything else this author has written!
If you like humor and especially southern humor read this book and everything else this author has written!
September 14, 2012
Like several other reviewers have stated, I have mixed feelings about this book. It seemed to take forever for me to finish it, but I often enjoyed reading it once I took the time to pick it up.
The chapter where Rivenbark talks about Gweneth Paltrow's ideas on helping her blog followers lead a fuller life were great. I love me some Gweneth, but according to Rivenbark, one of the Gwennie's suggestions is to "cook a meal for one you love". Rivenbark's reply, "I do. It's called dinner, and I do it seven nights a week."
I guess with a title like this I expected more laugh-out-loud funny stories, and while there were one or two, it wasn't enough.
The chapter where Rivenbark talks about Gweneth Paltrow's ideas on helping her blog followers lead a fuller life were great. I love me some Gweneth, but according to Rivenbark, one of the Gwennie's suggestions is to "cook a meal for one you love". Rivenbark's reply, "I do. It's called dinner, and I do it seven nights a week."
I guess with a title like this I expected more laugh-out-loud funny stories, and while there were one or two, it wasn't enough.
August 19, 2011
This is my second Rivenbark read. I really want to like her and her humor, but I just don't. Some things come across as very funny (kids who go to school with the measles), but much of it is just not funny. At all. How much does she need to go on about Gwyneth Paltrow being wealthy? It's just not funny. Every so often, she does say something that makes me laugh out loud. This time -- "you're uglier than a sack full of armpits." If that doesn't make you laugh, you'll definitely hate this book. It doesn't get much better.
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