Although the book's written material was already available online for free, critics generally agreed that the compilation's quality and dril's influence justified its publication.

In January 2017, dril opened a Patreon account for fans to make monthly payments in support of his tweets and future projects, including "video, illustration, and long-form writing.

[9] dril says the book is a means to preserve his content in the aftermath of a civilization collapse and digital dark age: This book is, without a doubt, the Svalbard Global Seed Vault, of posts, designed to withstand the fall of civilization and ensure that my invaluable Content permeates the hearts and minds of post-collapse generations, in order to prevent the whole of humanity from reverting to the way of the cave man.

"[3] Reviewing the book for Vice, Rachel Pick concluded that the book was worth it "so that one day, centuries from now, after the bombs go off and EMPs take out the electrical grid, long after Twitter has died, a solitary wanderer may find a scrap of paper buried in the ruins of my Brooklyn apartment building, and they will lift it up to the dying sun and squint through their protective goggles to read a dril tweet.

"[8] Writing for HuffPost, Sean T. Collins called the book "simply too funny for me to read for more than a page or two at a time without laughing so hard, I feel physically ill."[13] At Geek.com, Jordan Minor called the book a "glorious exception" to the expectation that online jokes taken offline can only result in "cursed", mediocre "nightmares like Shit My Dad Says: The TV Show".

[14] Minor praised dril's illustrations, which he said "flesh out the look of the character beyond his Jack Nicholson roots" and show "there are a bunch of ways to depict a gross old parody internet man in sunglasses.

[15] According to Klee, the tweets in that section "beautifully deconstructed" some men's "commitment to archaic notions of dudely stoicism" and demonstrated "the character's inability to confess weakness, shame or error.