Laurie Notaro has an uncanny ability to attract insanity — and leave readers doubled over with laughter. Need proof? Check out The Idiot Girl and the Flaming Tantrum of Death and try not to bust a gut.

Join Notaro as she experiences the popular phenomenon of laser hair removal (because at least one of her chins should be stubble-free); bemoans the scourge of the Open Mouth Coughers on America's airplanes and in similarly congested areas; welcomes the newest ex-con (yay, a sex offender!) to her neighborhood; and watches, against her own better judgment, every Discovery Health Channel special on parasites and tapeworms that has ever aired — resulting in an overwhelming fear that a worm the size of a python will soon come a-knocking on her back door.

In Notaro's world, strangers are stranger than fiction. One must always check the hotel bathroom for hobo hairs and consciously remember not to stare at old men with giant man-boobies. And then there are the lessons she has learned the hard way: Though it may seem like a good idea, it's best not to hire a tweaked-out homeless guy to clean up your yard.

The Cleveland Plain Dealer says that Laurie Notaro is "a scream, the freak-magnet of a girlfriend you can't wait to meet for a drink to hear her latest story." With The Idiot Girl and the Flaming Tantrum of Death, Notaro proves she's not only funny but resigned to the fact that you can't look bad ass in a Prius. Don't even try.

"In her latest collection of essays, Notaro (The Idiot Girl's Action-Adventure Club) turns out a double-handful of chuckle-worthy vignettes, looking at episodes of panic on an airplane, spying on guests at a mountain resort, learning to live with the ex-con down the street and, of course, handling the numerous disappointments and betrayals of the human body. Notaro blends sardonic, often self-deprecating comedy with disarming sincerity, delving into weight gain and body hair issues without hesitation, but staying closer to house, hearth, and everyday life with husband and dog. Most of the time, her quips rise to the occasion, but occasionally fall flat (as in 'Death of a Catchphrase'). Although the majority of Notaro's musings are light-hearted, she reveals an affecting serious side in her essay on a pet's death. With plenty of humorous insight into the everyday debacles of an average gal from Arizona, these entertaining essays should make satisfying, bite-sized beach reading." Publishers Weekly (Copyright Reed Business Information, Inc.)

Praise for Laurie Notaro

“[Notaro’s] quirky humor, which she’s previously showcased in her cult-classic essays on girly dorkdom, runs rampant.”

–BUST, on There’s a (Slight) Chance I Might Be Going to Hell

“Notaro is a natural comic, a graduate of the Jennifer Weiner school of self-deprecation, but she’s best when she’s being nasty.”

–Houston Chronicle, on There’s a (Slight) Chance I Might Be Going to Hell

“Notaro is everywoman. She is every woman who has ever made a bad judgment, overindulged (you pick the vice), been on a fad diet, been misunderstood at work, been at odds with her mother or been frustrated with her grandmother’s obsession with Lifetime TV, while somehow being a little too familiar with the conflicted, star-crossed personages of those movies.”

–San Antonio Express-News, on I Love Everybody

“Notaro’s humor is self-deprecating, gorily specific, and raunchy.”

–A.V. Club (The Onion), on Autobiography of a Fat Bride

“[Notaro] may be the funniest writer in this solar system.”

–The Miami Herald, on Autobiography of a Fat Bride

The New York Times-bestselling author of The Idiot Girls' Action-Adventure Club returns with her first collection of all new essays and personal observations in three years — and her funniest yet.

Laurie Notaro was born in Brooklyn, New York, and raised in Phoenix, Arizona. She packed her bags for Eugene, Oregon, once she realized that since she was past thirty, her mother could no longer report her as a teenage runaway. She is the author of The Idiot Girls' Action-Adventure Club, Autobiography of a Fat Bride, I Love Everybody, We Thought You Would Be Prettier, An Idiot Girl's Christmas, and the novel There's a (Slight) Chance I Might Be Going to Hell. She is currently at work on a plan B (to take effect when her book contract runs out), which includes selling hot dogs at Costco, selling hot dogs from a street cart, selling hot dogs at high school football games, or being the stop sign holder for road construction crews. At press time, she is still married, and she has an adorably disobedient dog that wears sweaters and loves chicken strips. (Clearly, Notaro has no children.)