I have a rule. A strict one. I listen to everything at 2.0x speed. If an author can't make their point quickly, I'll do it for them. Time is money, and I'm not in the business of wasting either.
But Leslie Jordan broke my system.
I started How Y'all Doing? at my usual 2.0x clip during a commute to a client site in Palo Alto. Big mistake. At double speed, that iconic, molasses-thick Southern drawl turned into a frantic chipmunk squeak. Unlistenable. I actually had to—and this hurts to type—slow it down to 1.25x. I lost efficiency. I lost time. And honestly? I'm not even mad about it.
(Jenny, if you're reading this: Yes, you were right. Don't frame this.)
The Anti-CEO Memoir
My library is 90% biographies of guys who wake up at 3:45 AM to meditate and crush the Nikkei index. Jack Welch, Elon, generic tech bros telling you how to optimize your kale intake. They're all the same: Struggle, Grind, Success, IPO. The only other memoir that broke this mold for me was Gambler: Secrets from a Life at Risk—another story about someone who lived messy and owned it.
Leslie Jordan is the exact opposite. And it's wildly refreshing.
There is no "strategy" here. No actionable takeaways for Q4. It's just a man who has lived a messy, loud, chaotic life and decided to tell you about it over a virtual sweet tea. He talks about getting arrested, meeting Debbie Reynolds, and dealing with being a gay man in the South like he's gossiping on a front porch.
If I tried to chart the "value add" of these stories in Excel, the spreadsheet would crash. But the vibe? Immaculate. It's the difference between a PowerPoint presentation and an improv show. One is useful, the other actually makes you feel something.
The Voice Is the Product
Here's the thing about audiobooks—usually, the narrator is just the delivery mechanism. A vessel. With this book, the narrator is the asset.
If you read the physical book, you're getting 50% of the experience. Maybe less. Leslie narrated this himself (obviously), and his delivery is... specific. Theatrical, saucy, deeply Southern. He hits words with this rhythmic cadence that you can't fake.
I've heard professional voice actors try to do "Southern eccentricity" and it always sounds like a bad cartoon. Leslie is the real deal. When he talks about his mother or his struggles with addiction, the crack in his voice is real. No amount of Juilliard training replicates that.
(Side note: It's short. 4 hours and change. I finished it in two gym sessions. For anyone intimidated by those 25-hour Obama memoirs, this is a snack.)
The Bottom Line, Black Coffee Style
Is this going to help me scale my consulting practice? Absolutely not. Zero ROI for my business.
But after a week of staring at red KPIs and explaining to a founder why his "Uber for Dog Walkers" is burning cash, this was the reset button I didn't know I needed. Pure, unadulterated charm.
Who's this for: Anyone drowning in hustle-culture content who needs a palate cleanser. If you loved Leslie's Instagram videos during lockdown, this is four hours of that energy. Skip it if: You need every audiobook to deliver bullet points and frameworks. This one's all vibes, no spreadsheets.
It's a sunk cost of four hours that actually pays out in serotonin. Just do yourself a favor and don't try to speed-run it. Some things need to breathe.
