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Posted 6 months ago
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The 12 Best/Worst Celebrity Memoirs

togatherinc:

You see what he did there? The hallmark of any great memoir title is wordplay!

Sometimes a hyphen can really make all the difference.

You see, because not only is Lance out of the band, but also….

Well, I’m certainly not creeped out by all the children on this book’s cover. THAT’S FOR SURE!

You heard the lady. Also, please have a look at the tile of her other book mentioned on the cover.

What exactly are you talking about, Todd Bridges? Read this book to find out!

We get it, Regis. You’re in demand! Or you were around the time “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” came out.

I know we’re not done with the list yet. But, this is the best title.

Literally everyone gets to write a memoir.

Like, literally everyone.

Even people who are made up.

Of all the books featured in this blog post, this is the one I am most likely to read. Having said that, there is no way I am going to read any of the books featured in this blog post.

KILLING WILLIS??

Also the Colonel Sanders one is perfect.

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Posted 10 months ago
via vanityfair

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vanityfair: Like father, like daughter. Oh all right this is cute I guess.

vanityfair:

Like father, like daughter.

Oh all right this is cute I guess.

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Posted 1 year ago
via boobsradley

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None needed. boobsradley: If any of you DARES give me context for this I will punch you.

None needed.

boobsradley:

If any of you DARES give me context for this I will punch you.

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Posted 1 year ago
via caissiesthing

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caissiesthing: robdelaney: https://twitter.com/#!/caissie Sometimes it feels like you’re just crying into a void about something you’re not even sure you have the right to be sad about. But then you realize someone was listening and you feel a little better. Thanks for being my someone sometimes, Rob Delaney.

caissiesthing:

robdelaney:

https://twitter.com/#!/caissie

Sometimes it feels like you’re just crying into a void about something you’re not even sure you have the right to be sad about. But then you realize someone was listening and you feel a little better. Thanks for being my someone sometimes, Rob Delaney.

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Posted 1 year ago
via bbook

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Hurrah for my pal Mike. Great job, Tyler. I’m incredibly interested to read Mike’s book, not just because I love a good tell-all and I’m truly — sometimes debilitatingly— nosy, but because I genuinely want to know the details (plus I’m a sucker for any tale of New York in the ’80s, ’90s…or any decade, really). It’s a little weird, because a part of me feels like I’ll be reading his diary; but I know it’s intended for the public, so it can’t be that secret, right? Now that I know Mike as a person, and I’m not merely a distanced fan, it’s a little difficult to process the painful, sad stuff — I feel protective, a little angry, that these things happened. If I were just an avid listener but didn’t actually know the guy I’d probably eat it up, wide-eyed, like all manner of juicy celebrity gossip. But this is different. Of course, I couldn’t be more pleased about the way everything has turned out for him. (Also, I’m pretty sure I was at that party.) bbook: I met Mike Doughty through a friend over the summer; he actually walked into a party while one of his songs was playing over the speakers. It was a surreal New York moment, and I recognized him immediately as being the lead singer of the now-defunct Soul Coughing, a band that I had listened to in college (even though they broke up a year before my freshman year). Our mutual friend had told me that Mike wasn’t a Soul Coughing fan. “You should read his book when it comes out,” she told me, “and you’ll understand why.” After seeing him at another party toward the end of last year, I asked Mike for a copy of The Book of Drugs. He obliged, and I tore through it in a matter of days. It’s a refreshingly genuine rock ‘n’ roll memoir, with the typical rise and fall of a rock star you might find as the plot of a musical biopic (complete with the requisite cameos from other musicians — in this case Jeff Buckley, Ani DiFranco, and, surprisingly, Redman). But it’s also a poetic look at the music industry in the late ’90s, a seemingly mythical time before the rise of .mp3s and iPods. It’s also impossible not to cheer for Doughty, who was outnumbered by a group of older, antagonistic musicians who all but took over the band that he created. I was very excited to sit down with him at Birch Coffee and chat about his memoir, life after Soul Coughing, and the stigma of being a singer-songwriter. Mike Doughty on ‘The Book of Drugs’

Hurrah for my pal Mike. Great job, Tyler.

I’m incredibly interested to read Mike’s book, not just because I love a good tell-all and I’m truly — sometimes debilitatingly— nosy, but because I genuinely want to know the details (plus I’m a sucker for any tale of New York in the ’80s, ’90s…or any decade, really).

It’s a little weird, because a part of me feels like I’ll be reading his diary; but I know it’s intended for the public, so it can’t be that secret, right? Now that I know Mike as a person, and I’m not merely a distanced fan, it’s a little difficult to process the painful, sad stuff — I feel protective, a little angry, that these things happened. If I were just an avid listener but didn’t actually know the guy I’d probably eat it up, wide-eyed, like all manner of juicy celebrity gossip. But this is different.

Of course, I couldn’t be more pleased about the way everything has turned out for him.

(Also, I’m pretty sure I was at that party.)

bbook:

I met Mike Doughty through a friend over the summer; he actually walked into a party while one of his songs was playing over the speakers. It was a surreal New York moment, and I recognized him immediately as being the lead singer of the now-defunct Soul Coughing, a band that I had listened to in college (even though they broke up a year before my freshman year). Our mutual friend had told me that Mike wasn’t a Soul Coughing fan. “You should read his book when it comes out,” she told me, “and you’ll understand why.”

After seeing him at another party toward the end of last year, I asked Mike for a copy of The Book of Drugs. He obliged, and I tore through it in a matter of days. It’s a refreshingly genuine rock ‘n’ roll memoir, with the typical rise and fall of a rock star you might find as the plot of a musical biopic (complete with the requisite cameos from other musicians — in this case Jeff Buckley, Ani DiFranco, and, surprisingly, Redman). But it’s also a poetic look at the music industry in the late ’90s, a seemingly mythical time before the rise of .mp3s and iPods. It’s also impossible not to cheer for Doughty, who was outnumbered by a group of older, antagonistic musicians who all but took over the band that he created. I was very excited to sit down with him at Birch Coffee and chat about his memoir, life after Soul Coughing, and the stigma of being a singer-songwriter.

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