Do you have one of those books in your life which you read and loved, and which you told everybody about with the genuine hope that they would read it and love it too, but which, because your life is a mess and you moved twice and you're engaged in the Sisyphean task of trying to get a collection of your own short stories published sometime before you turn 30, you eventually sort of forgot about, but were then serendipitously reminded of and decided to blog about? Me neither. I don't really read.
Though, I will say that Josh Goldfaden's Human Rescources is awesome. I reviewed this book a while ago for Mid-American Review, and have been a big fan of Goldfaden's ever since. But it wasn't until I recently read an Ars Short Storica essay he wrote for Powell's that I decided he and I are essentially the same person. In said essay, he explains that he has a lot of trouble cutting dick jokes from his stories, and, as a result, I haven't felt this much camaraderie with an established artist since I realized Gary Shandling and I have the exact same bone structure.
You should check out the essay and the book. You should also check out my above-linked review, if you want to read me waxing serious about all the reasons I dig Goldfaden's collection.