Let's Pretend This Never Happened
(a Mostly True Memoir)Book - 2012
Jenny Lawson realized that the most mortifying moments of our lives--the ones we'd like to pretend never happened--are in fact the ones that define us. In the #1 N ew York Times bestseller, Let's Pretend This Never Happened , Lawson takes readers on a hilarious journey recalling her bizarre upbringing in rural Texas, her devastatingly awkward high school years, and her relationship with her long-suffering husband, Victor. Chapters include: "Stanley the Magical, Talking Squirrel"; "A Series of Angry Post-It Notes to My Husband"; "My Vagina Is Fine. Thanks for Asking"; "And Then I Snuck a Dead Cuban Alligator on an Airplane." Pictures with captions (no one would believe these things without proof) accompany the text.
From the critics
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There's a very mean girl down the hall who's trying to get me fired. I'm no good with confrontation, so whenever I say, "Have a wonderful day," to her out loud, I'm really saying, "Be nice to me or I will stab you in the face with a fork," in my head. I wish her a wonderful day at least once an hour. She's starting to get paranoid and jumpy about it, but there's really nothing she can do, because she can't complain about me wishing her a wonderful day without sounding totally insane. This is why you should never mess with non-confrontational people. Because they're unstable to second-guess. And because they're totally the kind of people who would suddenly snap, and stab you in the face with a fork.
I want to thank everyone who helped me create this book, except for that guy who yelled at me in Kmart when I was eight because he thought I was being "too rowdy." You're an asshole, sir.
This book is a love letter to my family. It's about the surprising discovery that the most terribly human moments - the ones we want to pretend never happened - are the very same moments that make us who we are today. I've reserved the very best stories of my life for this book...to celebrate the strange, and to give thanks for the bizarre. Because you are defined not by life's imperfect moments, but by your reaction to them. And because there is joy in embracing - rather than running screaming from - the utter absurdity of life. I thank my family for teaching me that lesson. In spades.
My ag teacher told us once, years ago, a student was hanging a cotton-judging banner on the ag barn wall when he fell off of the ladder and landed on a broomstick, which went right up his rectum. This idea must have really stuck with my teacher, because he was forever warning us to be constantly vigilant of any stray brooms in the area before getting on a ladder
Druggies can be surprisingly judgmental. It's pretty much the only social circle where the same people you just witnessed shooting horse tranquilizers up one another's butts will actually look down at you for not being as cool as them.
My grandmother... was one of the sweetest and most patient women ever to grace the planet. ... (she) would describe Hitler as a "sad little man who probably didn't get hugged enough when he was little," and would say only of Satan, "I'm not a fan."
...but I'd convinced myself that girls are like small bears: cute to look at, but far too dangerous to have lunch with.
There are three types of people who choose a career in HR: sadistic ____ who were probably all tattletales in school, empathetic (and soon-to-be-disillusioned) idealists who think they can make a difference in the lives of others, and those who of us who stick around because it gives you the best view of all the most entertaining train wrecks happening in the rest of the company.
"I broke my arm in a cow's vagina" is not something you ever want to have to explain to anyone.
Most people have never stood inside a dead animal, unless you count that time when Luke Skywalker crawled inside that tauntaun to keep from freezing to death, which I don't, because Star Wars is not a documentary.
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readmetowonderland thinks this title is suitable for 13 years and over
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