Naked

Book: Naked
Author: David Sedaris(part of the indispensable "David Trifecta" that consists of Sedaris, Eggers, and Foster Wallace)
Place I Read It: On the red-eye back from Kauai to LA, where the turbulence wasn't quite pants-crappingly scary, but it was pretty bumpy. Like a hay-ride where the horse has gotten into the cider barrel or something. My sister-in-law was sawing logs beside me as her daughter made whimpering noises. I turned on the air blower above my seat and only a small trickle of stale recirculated cabin air came back at me. I probably looked green. My husband slept most of the way back, although heavily into hour three, when I thought I would rather die than stay on the plane for one more minute, he opened his eyes and said, "I need a cigarette," and then went back to sleep.

What I Thought:
I have read this book, cover to cover, five times. My paperback copy that I purchased under the recommendation of a flamingly homosexual man at the airport is tattered and bubble bath stained. I love this book. Mere words cannot describe how this book makes me feel when I read it. I howl with laughter until I cry tears of mirth every time. David Sedaris should be declared a saint, or maybe be knighted, or something.

His first essay is about his obsessive-compulsive behavior as a kid. As I excitedly turned the pages and started shaking with recognition, I thought, "This is me! He's writing about ME!"

My favorite part of the book is when he discovers that someone in their house(one filled with many siblings, his parents, and his grandmother) is wiping their ass on the bathroom towels. They happen to be brown, so you'd go to dry your hair and not think anything, but notice, too late, that unmistakable smell...

He also spends the title essay taking a stay at a nudist camp, and who wouldn't want to read about that?

This is one of the best books of all time. I don't know anyone who doesn't love this book, nor would I want to.