Amy Schumer’s Memoir Finally Drops

Unlike autobiographies which are super fucking boring, memoirs promise to pack the punch of lots of nasty sex and drug shit from early in your life. Or, a few years ago for Amy Schumer producing her life’s recount at age thirty-five. Seems a bit young, though she is prone to compulsive eating.

There’s no particular reason for a person in her thirties to be sharing her old lady wisdom. Minus the book deal, naturally. It’s hard to know the price tag on that, but Hillary Clinton made ten million off her book and there are no copies of it ever being sold.

I’m a flawed fucked up and I haven’t figured anything out, so I have no wisdom to offer you. But what I can help with is showing you my mistakes and my pain and my laughter.

Schumer’s got stories like nobody else. That time she lost her virginity, drinking too much as a teen, hooking up with that guy, having that shitty college job, smoking weed, shoplifting. You can’t make that stuff up. Though much of it likely is. Naturally there are numerous highlights of men taking advantage of her, perhaps when she was high and shoplifting shit. Also tales of food addiction that make you just want to reach out and hug a fat person. If you can’t find one near you, check the line at the bookstore where Amy’s signing copies.

Schumer’s dad is likely pleased about the mention of him shitting his pants at the circus because Multiple Sclerosis had diminished his muscle control. And mom probably loves the tale her her fucking one of Amy’s friends dads because her husband was so poor off. As do “Dan” and “Jeff” and the other guys mentioned in the book as light to moderate date rapists and stupid guys. You can only hope the people you know become super famous so they can use you in their material to sell copies.