I'd Like to Play Alone, Please

I went into this audiobook expecting a lighthearted comedy romp, and what I got was a masterclass in verbal catharsis—plus a few moments where I actually gasped. Segura’s narration is the secret weapon here: his delivery is so conversational and tonally varied that it feels like you’re eavesdropping on his therapy session, if his therapist were a guy who hates small talk and loves calling out hypocrisy. The standout story is his account of a disastrous trip to Disneyland with his kids, where his frustration over a broken Star Wars lightsaber is both hilariously specific and universally relatable—like watching a sitcom where the punchline is your own life. My only critique? The chapter jumps can feel abrupt, as if Segura (or his editor) got too excited about a new rant and forgot to bridge the gap. And while the book’s tone is consistently uproarious, there are a few stretches where the misanthropy starts to bleed together, making it feel less like a curated set and more like a late-night drunk text chain. Still, by the time Segura recounts the time he accidentally became a human piñata at a kids’ party, you’ll be too busy laughing to care about the pacing. If you’ve ever wanted to hear a comedian skewer parenthood, fame, and his own terrible decisions with zero filters, this is the audiobook for you.