Jill Kargman lets viewers in on the inner workings of her kooky mind on Odd Mom Out, and now she's pulling back the curtain a little more in her upcoming book of essays, Sprinkle Glitter on My Grave, out Sepetmber 6. The release (which reads in part like a memoir, or what we imagine it would be like to have a girls' night in with the writer) is a humorous book filled with a closer look at the New York native's childhood and family, as well as her unfiltered opinions on any number of subjects, like parenting and fashion.
The cover of Sprinkle Glitter on My Grave, out Sept. 6, 2016.
If you're hankering for a sneak peek ahead of its big release, The Daily Dish has gotten an exclusive look at one of the chapters. In “Things That Befuddle New Yorkers," you guessed it, Jill breaks downs some of the things in general pop culture that Big Apple natives just plain don't understand:
The velvet rope line outside Abercrombie & Fitch
Trying to think of a nice way to say this . . . hmmm . . . What the f*** is wrong with you people?! You’re seriously shvitzing your balls off to get into a lame store?! I mean, that line— rain, sleet, snow, or blazing sun— is ever growing. Every time I walk by, I scratch my head. Even if Dolce & Gabbana were having an 80-percent-off sale, I wouldn’t wait in a nightclub line like that to shop. But A&F isn’t Dolce, peeps. Its mainstay is tees emblazoned with their logo! They should pay you to wear that! Jeez.
People who say Ralph L’Ren
Guys, it’s Lauren. The accent is on the first syllable. It’s not like L’Wren Scott (may she rest). Also annoying is yentas saying Donna K’ran. Especially because ironically these are old Jewesses pronouncing it like the Islamic Bible. It’s Karan, pronounced just like Karen. Like Karen Allen of Indiana Jones fame.
Tourists who wait for the Walk sign
Guys, New Yorkers don’t see those blinking hands as commands, we see them as suggestions. Just jaywalk or use your oldfashioned eyeballs to see if a truck is careening toward you. But if you are going to be a goody- goody and wait- wait through the entire flashing Don’t Walk sequence, please step aside, ’cause dis beeyotch got places to be.
People posing with Times Square Elmo
Guys, that’s not really Elmo, you know. Inside the not–Sesame Street– approved costume (probably made by twelve- year- olds in China), there’s a very sweaty person. But go ahead, pay him five bucks for a shot. If you want a real thrill, stick around till three and watch as he pops the head right off and staggers to the subway, red fur from the neck down. The real deal.
What is this poultry chain of which you speak? Alls I know is it hails from some rectangle in the middle and reeks of red state “values,” like speaking out against gay people. Nice. So you fry chicken eyelids in a bucket and fatten ’Murica and that’s “real” America? Makes so much sense. How crickets can somehow be louder than sirens I can blissfully float into slumber mode with a legit fleet of ambulances charging by. But when I visit the country, the cacophony of those slutty crickets doing their mating call drives me off the rails like a crazy train. They are deafening. Give me the mollifying hum of traffic, the honks of home, any night of the week.
Hear Jill read this passage in the audiobook version, below.
Excerpted from Sprinkle Glitter on My Grave by Jill Kargman Copyright © 2016 by Jill Kargman. Excerpted by permission of Ballantine. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Check out a highlight from the Season 2 finale of Odd Mom Out, below.
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