I wish I had never read this awful memoir and could still visualize her as “Baby.” This is by far the worst memoir I’ve ever read, (and I’ve had the misfortune of reading Debbie Reynolds’.) Seriously, this read more like the tell-all diary of a silly and vindictive teenager than the writings of a mature adult. Many of the events would have been better left untold or at the very least were not hers to tell.
We get it, Jennifer, you’re edgy. It’s clear by the excessive named dropping, that you know a lot of famous people. You’ve slept with a lot of famous people. You’ve done drugs with a lot of famous people. You’ve been engaged to famous actors. You seem to blame others for all of your relationship problems. You, Jennifer, are the common denominator.
And, how many times did we really need to read about your stupid nose? I think we got it after about the third time you whined that the nose job was not your idea. If you wanted to come across as shallow, spoiled, crass, and foulmouthed, you nailed it.
Believe me, one star is being generous.