In a candid expose of bedroom mishaps, We’re All Bad in Bed is a hilarious lesson that we are all simply human.

After an embarrassing moment with her mother, Shelby Simpson decides to go on a quest to gather her friends’ most unsexy moments in the bedroom to compile into a book as a way to avoid her mom, and get over her embarrassment. Shelby recounts tales from her own life as well, from youth til present day, with candid honesty.

With friends as open as she herself is, Simpson’s book is a laugh a minute. To collect these stories, she visited friends around the country, and at a weekend birthday party in Cancun. Anything to avoid that long overdue conversation with her mother! From discussions ranging from first-time sex, explorations of feminine sexual needs and desires, and the ‘right’ way to give a blowjob, among others, no punches are pulled. Throughout the book we are teased with the mysterious incident involving her mom, until at the very end, the story is finally shared. I’ll admit, compared to some other tales in this book, the couch incident was rather anticlimactic. Embarrassing, sure, but others seemed way more embarrassing.

This book recounted Simpson’s times in many different countries, and among different cultures. Part of this time was in Thailand. Of all the things in this book, I did not expect to find one of the most enlightening and readily accessible discussions of the Asian concept of Face that I’ve ever come across. It can be a difficult thing for Westerners to truly understand. Just goes to show, you never know what treasure seemingly light reading might contain.

I’ll be honest. While I found most of this book quite entertaining, there were one or two instances that made me uncomfortable. One big one was the topic of micropenis. The tone from all of the women discussing it seemed very judgemental regarding a medical condition the males afflicted with are probably ashamed of, and something they had no control over. That’s something I’m just not cool with, but I admit it’s my perception and may not be what was intended by the author.

The book could use another good proofing. There were a few errors, most homophonic in nature. To the casual reader, most will probably not even be noticed. Call it the curse of being a logophile that I tend to notice them all.

The language of Bad in Bed, while not excessively crude, is quite candid. If you are in any way, shape, or form squeamish about sex, this book is not for you. However, if you’re open-minded, dive right in. These stories were shared willingly, in good-natured humour. Everyone has less than stellar bedroom relations time to time. You’ll see you are not alone.

***This book was reviewed for the Manhattan Book Review.