I just finished reading Sarah Silverman’s book The Bedwetter: Stories of Courage, Redemption and Pee. It took me about 3 weeks to get through the first 40 pages, by no fault of the book. I’ve just been going through one of those stints where I’ve been somewhat completely depressed (somewhat completely?) which makes it hard to read because all I’ve wanted to do is listen to comedy podcasts helping me forget my shitty life then masturbate then listen to music with sad lyrics and repeat the process four times daily before sleeping for 12 hours. Mind you, that’s what I’ve wanted to do, not necessarily what I did do the past three weeks. Also, that’s pretty much exactly what I did do the past three weeks – I imagine any girl reading this who might have a crush on me (that alone is already the most imaginative thing possible) no longer has that crush.
Tonight in lieu of sleep I decided to finish the last 200 pages of Sarah Silverman’s book. It wasn’t because I started reading it and couldn’t put it down, but rather because the Seattle Seahawks are playing – and by the time you read this have already played – the Atlanta Falcons today in the second round of the NFL playoffs and I’m really excited and whenever I’m really excited I can’t sleep and if the Seahawks lose – which you already know by now (they lost) – then all excitement will be gone and I won’t do anything else but sleep, masturbate and listen to podcasts/lyrically sad music for the entire week, which sucks because as enjoyable as that is – and I assure you in the moment it’s quite enjoyable, it’s only in retrospect that the painful cringe of hating myself down to the core happens – I have a productive day scheduled for tomorrow, so I’d like to be in good spirits. (Bad segue coming.) Speaking of that word which I used to describe the spirits I’d like to be in, Sarah Silverman’s book was it. That word. The word was good. You know, in case you had forgotten.
You’re probably wondering if it’s good enough to buy. Well right now at Amazon it’s only six dollars and 40 cents, which is pretty insanely cheap, so it’s definitely good enough to buy at that price. Although I’m not sure what the shipping adds on, so I can’t qualify it as that good. I’m sorry. Also, you don’t even know what the book is about yet – presumably – so even at the low, low price of $6.40 why would you buy a book you know nothing about?
Basically it’s an autobiography of Sarah Silverman’s life up to this point. What is that, like a memoir? Anyway, now you know what it’s about, so go buy it or something. I don’t know.
As you’ve might have guessed one of the primary focuses is on her bedwetting problem, which she had until her later mid teens – what is that, like 15, 16? Sounds awkward, right? Add to the fact that she was one of the only Jews in New Hampshire and you’ve got yourself an outcasted childhood. I could definitely relate. Not because I’m a bedwetter – although at about 17 I did have a dream that I was peeing and I woke up peeing myself – and I’m not Jewish either. But I did grow up as a girl in New Hampshire. Okay, that’s not true at all. At least not concerning this lifetime. I can’t speak for previous reincarnations of me.
Okay, yes, this is the worst book review I’ve ever written, and that’s saying something because I’ve written some shitty reviews before, like that one for Bill Clinton’s autobiography I Definitely Did Not Have Sexual Relations With That Woman and on the cover he’s pointing at Hilary Clinton. In that review I basically scolded the author for only 11 of the 15 chapters going into vivid detail of Monica Lewinsky performing oral on arguably one of the ten best presidents we’ve ever had in this great philandering country of ours.
By the way, we always get our panties in a bunch about the presidential election every four years, but out of the 43 presidents we’ve had how many do we have exactly no opinion on? Or even remember being president.
Actual (not at all) Study I Conducted on the Mean Streets of Portland
Me: Sir, what are your feelings on Ulysses S. Grant?
Sir: He was that drunk who won the Civil War, right?
Me: Yes. He was also the 18th President.
Sir: That cock sucker was President? Get the fuck out of here, Ass-turd.
Me: Hello, Ma’am, what are your feelings on James Garfield?
Ma’am: Lasagna, right?
Me: No, he was the president.
Ma’am: Mondays can suck a dick.
Me: He was assassinated after just 200 days as president.
Ma’am: I’d sure like to do some stuff with Odie if you know what I mean?
Me: I don’t know what you mean…. Please stop winking at me.
Me: Hey, Person, Chester A. Arthur was….
Person: Eat out my hairy, unkempt asshole you cracker, cunt.
Thus concludes my review of Sarah Silverman’s very delightful and funny book The Bedwetter: Stories of Courage, Redemption and Pee.
It really was very interesting and funny.