After reading President Me, I vowed to hunt down more of Adam Carolla’s books and to purchase some Mangria. It seems that no liquor store in the state of Pennsylvania carries Carolla’s booze, but fortunately, his books are easy to come by. In Fifty Years We’ll All Be Chicks is certainly not a masterful piece of literature, but it is an enjoyable way to pass an afternoon.
This is a comedic book, so it clearly wasn’t intended to be broken apart and analyzed. Because of this, I really wasn’t scrutinizing the prose or diction, I was just hoping to be entertained. And entertained I was. Carolla takes on a variety of topics that I find extremely annoying, yet I wasn’t aware of this annoyance until Carolla pointed it out to me. For instance, the increased frequency of peanut allergies, racism, guilt culture, and the positioning of toilet lids. Hands down, though, the greatest part of this book is an aside in which Carolla explains how it was much easier to insult people back in the olden days. Instead of coming up with creative and demeaning names for each other, one simply had to strongly say, “Good day!” at the end of a sentence. For additional emphasis, an “I said, good day!” would do the trick. I don’t know why, but I found this bit particularly hilarious. I now punctuate my own sentences with an insistent “Good day,” and it’s way more rewarding than one would think.
In Fifty Years We’ll All Be Chicks can easily be read in a few hours, and contains more than a few moments that made me laugh out loud. Carolla says it like it is, and presents his viewpoints in such a way that even when I didn’t agree with him, I was at least able to laugh.