Let's Pretend This Never Happened: A Mostly True Memoir

by Jenny Lawson

Once, we came home to find Rambo in the sink, washing a tiny sliver of soap that had been a new bath-size bar that morning. He looked exhausted, and like he wanted someone to stop him and put him to bed, but when we tried to take away

From the back of the photo: “Jenny & Daffodil. Later he was eaten by homeless people.”

1980: It was a look that screamed, “Ask me about becoming a sister wife.”

“Uh…Hello? Travis?” asked the man on the other end. Me: “No, this is not Travis. Is this a Thundercat?” “Who?” asked the man, who seemed really very annoyed. “I think we both have the wrong number,” I said, and I started to hang up, but then the not-Thundercat

peaceful bisexual communists.

seemed to be doing a booming business cooking and selling cupcakes. Except replace “cupcakes” with “meth.” “Cupcakes” sounds nicer,

Me: Hi. You’re selling my book at your store, so I thought I’d sign them if you want me to. Airport bookstore cashier: Oh. Okay. Who are you? Me: I’M STEPHEN KING.