Archive for the ‘fake memoirs’ Category
What I’d Expect If I Were Expecting is the pregnancy memoir I’m writing ahead of time since if I ever get pregnant and have kids I’ll have no time to write. Periodically I read excerpts on The Adam Carolla Show. Here’s the most recent one.
Yesterday I burped while watching Rizzoli and Isles so I called my doctor to make sure that was normal for a woman in my state. She, thank you very much, said it was perfectly normal and asked, again, that I please stop calling her on her emergency line. Speaking of emergencies, I can no longer fit into my medium size Juicy sweatpants and don’t even get me started on my Seven for All Mankind Jeans. More like seven sizes too small jeans. Or seven levels of frustration jeans. Or the seven jeans you’d meet in hell jeans. Or seven habits of highly effective jeans, none of which are to fit, evidently, or seven jeans for seven brothers if the seven brothers are the seven dwarves. The only way I could wear them would be to buy another pair of sevens and wear one pair on each leg and walk around like conjoined twins, each of whom has one bad leg but still buys regular pants. At this rate I will have nothing to wear by my third or fourth trimester.
Upcoming chapters include:
Crapping myself while giving birth: How much are we talking and should I give a shit?
Placenta Pie and Other Recipes
“Watch me pull a baby out of your hooha” –The Curious Case of the Magician Obstetrician
In addition to writing a faux pregnancy memoir, I’m also tackling an addiction memoir. Here is an excerpt. I’m hoping for a blurb from Dr. Drew.
The year was 1977. By day I was Susan, a mild-mannered good girl. By night I was Suze, a sensual party machine who loved to dance and was addicted to drugs. One night I couldn’t reach my dealer so I hit the streets.
“Hey girly girly, you looking for party favors,” asked a gangmember.
“No,” I responded all cool like, “I’m looking for drugs.”
A little while later I was in a cab headed uptown with a pocket full of the best friends a girl like me could have. It was all there, everything I craved: Cocaine, crack cocaine, heroin, ludes, bennies, acetominophin, PCP, space cakes from Amsterdam, pot brownies, pot cookies, marijuana, puff, spliff, smoke, hash, hashish, White Out for huffing, whippets, nutmeg, banana peels, Robitussin, Robitussin cold gels, speed, crystal meth, crank, MDMA and other designer drugs, ice, mushrooms, magic mushrooms and lysergic acid, commonly known as LSD.
The drugs kicked in as we were pulling out of Del Taco.
Potential titles for this tome include:
This Halfway House is Not a Home
Have We Met Before? [cover art is me looking in the mirror]
They Tried to Make Me Go to Prehab but I Said No No No
My Drug of Choice is More
People, Places, Things and Drugs
With Drugs Like These, Who Needs Friends?
If You Can’t Stand the Heat Get Out of the Meth Lab
Are You There Drugs, It’s Me Drugs?
Crush, Snort, Repeat
Excerpt from What I’d Expect if I Were Expecting, Chapter 2: Mercury in Retrograde (and also in sushi)
Last night I was really looking forward to meeting the gals for some much needed gal time. That was before I knew they wanted to meet for sushi though. SUSHI?!?!?! Oh, I could just see it:
“And what will the obviously very pregnant lady have?”
“I’ll have the spicy deformed baby roll with the cleft palate dipping sauce.”
I don’t think so! What’s next, a raw cheese course followed by formaldehyde shots and thalidomide chasers? I didn’t make a big deal of it though, I just nibbled on my edamame (unsalted, please, and keep it coming) and drank my sparkling water. I couldn’t fault my single friends. It wasn’t that long ago that I, too, was selfish and only lived for myself.
But when you’re super pregnant, if you have friends who are willing to be seen in public with you, grab on to them and never let go! Table for six? More like table for 8 if you count my cankles! And seriously, why the weight gain? I mean, I know it’s nature’s way of keeping men away so you don’t get pregnant when you’re already pregnant and end up like my slutty friend Carol who had triplets, one of whom is Asian, but couldn’t you just give me frizzy hair instead? Oh wait, looks like you already did! Trimester? More like try to do anything with this hair, LOL!!!!!!
Upcoming chapters include:
“Don’t piss on my leg and tell me my water broke”
“What’s a mucus plug and where’s the outlet?”
“My ankles are too fat to kickbox with God”
I’ve been reading excerpts of my faux pregnancy memoir, What I’d Expect if I Were Expecting on The Adam Carolla Show. The idea grew out of an on air discussion we were having about how the best time to write a memoir would be before the event you’re recalling, because that’s when you really have the time to knock out a book.
Due to the popularity of WIEIIWE, I’m now also working on my addiction/recovery memoir since there’s that old adage in publishing that you have your whole life to write your first book and only a year or two to write your second. Frankly there’s no way I can squeeze a lifetime of imaginary drug abuse into only a couple years.
A lot of people have asked if there’s a place they can go to read these excerpts. The short answer at this point is No. The long answer is Noooooooooooooo. But I’ve decided to put a few of them on my blog. Here is the first one:
Excerpt from What I’d Expect if I Were Expecting, Chapter 1: Could I Be Pregnant?
…After months and months of not getting my period and being all fat, I began to wonder, could I be pregnant? It was the last thing I expected——me??? pregnant???– but the signs were all there. Unprotected sex some months before? Check. Morning sickness? Try morning, afternoon and evening sickness! Weird cravings? I’d eaten a pencil and two dry erase boards only moments before. My doctor pointing out the fetal heart rate on the fetal heart rate monitor? I made a mental note to pick up a pregnancy test on my way home from the bar…
Upcoming chapters include:
“What’s Up With My Areolas?”
“I Hope They Serve Ice Chips In Hell”
“What Do You Mean I Can’t Give Birth Underwater Surrounded By Dolphins?”