261 pages. One word. Zero apologies.
A memoir for everyone who has ever meant it. The word “ugh” repeated thousands of times, to overwhelming effect. An expansive, stream-of-consciousness account, decipherable only to those who have lived it — which may well be a searing, unflinching memoir laying waste to the literary establishment and the very concept of human endurance.
Or maybe not.
Here, the experts weigh in:
“Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh, ugh ugh ugh. Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh, ugh ugh, ugh. Ugh ugh.”
— Professor R. Grimsworth, Department of Expressive Minimalism
“Ugh ugh ugh, ugh ugh ugh ugh! Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh. Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh.”
— Dame Constance Blatt, twice shortlisted
“Ugh ugh, ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh. Ugh, ugh ugh ugh ugh. Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh, ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh.”
— Dr. Cornelius Rubbish, Institute of Advanced Ugh Studies
Ugh ugh… Ugh ugh ugh. This is how begins the memoir that promises to redefine the limits of human endurance — or at least to scratch the furniture of traditional criticism. Nikita Datar delivers a bold work where each “ugh” carries the full weight of a feeling the English language has never adequately named. A read for the discerning few. Or for anyone who has ever had a Monday.
The perfect funny gift for literally anyone. The coworker who sighs more than they speak. The friend who deserves a real memoir about nothing. The person who says “ugh” more than any other word. The white elephant gift that wins the party. The stocking stuffer nobody sees coming.
Part of The Absurd Humor Archive — 30 books. 30 words. The full range of human expression. Also available: ew, meh, nope, fine, bruh, slay, omg, and 22 more.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​