Sloane Crosley’s writing makes me sleepy.

I’m happy that she has a book deal and that she’s known as a charming, popular book publicist but her Voice essays put me to sleep.

Why?

Too damn twee, cute and bland. And her essay on her ass attracting the attention of non-white men?

An excerpt:

If I said even now (in front of a man or woman of any race for that matter) that I think I have a big butt, they encourage me to deny it. “You have a great ass,” they say. Which, ahem, isn’t the issue in question. And all that protesting, all that mutually exclusive commentary about how big versus how appealing, leads a 5-5 pallid girl to wonder: What is it, exactly, about the ass right now?

For the love of Buddha, why do girls named Sloane feel so cool to go there like its a brand new discovery? I should applaud her nerve for getting a check for writing about such a tired topic but I’m not there today.

Why is the fact that she’s dumb enough to get locked out her apartment twice in one day warrant a Voice essay? Because it happened to her cute, charming ass? And we all need cute, charming ooops I’m a lucky little fuck up stories in our lives?

Tallulah refuses.

But I do wish her all the luck with the book and all those cool blurbs!