Category Archives: Let’s Pretend This Never Happened

International Incidents

My first book just got released in Polish, and I haven’t seen it in real life but the cover looks sort of baffling and also adorable.

Polish let's pretend this never happened

I don’t speak Polish so I did a quick auto-translation to see what they’re actually saying about the book:

LET US MAKE BELIEVE THAT THIS IS NOT usually TRUE
AUTOBIOGRAPHY
Jenny Lawson,  PRIME MINISTER 27 AUGUST 2014

Hot Barbara and Wanda Gadomskie:
Jenny Lawson comes from killed desk holes in Texas. She grew up amidst a house of sensational eccentrics, insulated by asbestos. Her father – Feelin’ hairy giant  who looks like a dangerous version of ZACHA Galifianakisa – loved animals, but outside the right across … hunts and he taxidermies them. Mama was in turn a hot advocate of literate interpretation of the maxim: “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger”, which could not remain without influence on psychology of the heroine and her emotional life, especially as a child that already suffers from anxiety and depression. Jenny decided to tell their story and not wrapped in cotton. Through her sense of humor, millions of people doubted their own common sense, breaking my head, for example, on the author’s mad theory that Jesus really was a zombie.

I just read this to Victor and he was like, “That sounds like a better book than the one you wrote” and I’ll admit, it sounds intriguing.  The most fascinating part is that according to the title I think I’m going to be crowned the new Polish Prime Minister on August 27th.  I’m not sure it lasts longer than that one day so if you want any Polish laws, commandments or wishes passed then please leave them in the comments and I’ll approve all of them by waving the scepter I got when I became a Czar.  I assume it works internationally.  Also, I think this makes me a foreign diplomat and unarrestable on that day so I’m saving up all of my arson for then.  Don’t piss me off on August the 26th or you’ll be fucked.

PS. I just got a few copies of the Turkish version of my book in the mail and I’m giving a signed copy away if you want it.  Just leave me a comment and I’ll pick one.  Or if you prefer I’ll give you an English version.  Or I’ll pass a Polish proclamation that Saturday will henceforth be known as “YOUR-NAME-HEREday” and free cheeses will be available to all.  Up to you, really.

That's supposed to be me on the cover.  It's not really the most flattering position.

That’s supposed to be me on the cover. It’s not really the most flattering position.

I assure you, that was not my nipple.

So this week I did a keynote address at the Texas Conference for Women.  The other keynote speakers were all uber-professional and awesome, and one was a nobel peace laureate, and they all said very important, inspirational things.  And then I got on the stage and panicked and decided to do a reading from my book about the time I got my arm stuck up a cow’s vagina.  In my defense though, I’m me, so it wasn’t like they didn’t know they were getting into, and surprisingly few people actually walked out.  I suspect the few who did walk out probably just had cow vagina phobia (I feel ya, sisters) but then later I realized it might have been for another reason altogether.  Very sweet friends sent me photos of myself on stage and some of them made me look almost professional:

Pretend I was saying something profound here and not just explaining how easy it is to get your arm broken in a cow vagina.

Then my friend Laura sent me pictures from the back.  After the fifth one I had noticed they all had one similarity:

Do you see it?

You might not notice from the picture, but after looking at a series of them all I can see is what appears to be my right nipple escaping from my shirt.

No shit. It's in EVERY shot.

And I know it’s not my nipple because I’m about to turn 40 and my nipples weren’t that perky even when I was 20.  In fact, I’d almost be proud if that was an accidental nip-slip, because who wouldn’t be impressed with nipples that are so perky they seem to be reading the book along with me?  Answer: Professional conference attendees staring at a possible wonky nipple during a 20-minute diatribe about cow vaginas.

Let me assure you, it was not my nipple.  I suspect it was shadow of the circular microphone on the podium, but now I’m worried that thousands of women think I was intentionally showing off my one good nipple.  I would never do that, y’all.  Because I’m a lady.

And now that I’ve straightened that out (or possibly made it much, much worse) I’m going to change the subject to tell you that I just opened a box from my editor and it was filled with my book in Portuguese.  I think.  I’m not good with languages.  But as an early Christmas/Hanukkah present I’m going to give away signed Portuguese copies to a few random commenters.  Why would you even want this?  I have no idea.  But I guarantee that you’ll be the only one with one.

I shoved the cover in my cat's face and screamed, "HEY, CAT! YOU'RE TOTALLY FAMOUS IN BRAZIL," and then she ran and hid under the couch. Some people just can't handle fame.

 

UPDATED: Well, that was…not *entirely* unexpected

Did you know that Alexa gives you a list of search phrases that they believe drives traffic to your blog? Because, yeah.  Here are mine:

Honestly, I’m not sure whether I’m more “proud” or “ashamed”.  I’m leaning toward “both”.

PS.  When you actually do a google search for “sloth texas divorce” my blog is not even on the front page.  Probably because surprise sloths made our marriage stronger.  Stop jumping to conclusions, Alexa. You don’t even know us.

UPDATED ( 7 hours later):  If you google “Texas sloth divorce” this blog is now actually the very first thing that pops up.  Conclusion:  Alexa is fucking psychic.  

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And in entirely unrelated news, it’s time for the weekly wrap up:

What you missed in my shop (tentatively called “Eight pounds of uncut cocaine” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

This week’s wrap-up is sponsored by the fantastically odd novel, Can’t Buy Me Love, by Summer Kinard.  It’s a story about a freegan who falls in love after finding a scrapbook in a dumpster.  The story comes complete with masked female Mexican wrestlers, lemurs and miracles, awesome lesbians, a psychic Jewish grandmother, a yarn-bombing midwife, and it’s quite possibly the only romance where tacos save the day.  You should probably buy it.

Let’s Pretend This Never Happened. Unless you win. Then it totally happened.

Today I got a box filled with vintage glass cow eyeballs.  Except replace “vintage glass cow eyeballs” with “new copies of the UK version of Let’s Pretend This Never Happened“.

They’re very similar in that they are both fairly baffling and people can’t help but pick them up and wonder at them.  And also, you don’t actually need a whole box of them.  At most you can only use a dozen glass cow eyeballs and then the rest just go to waste.  Ditto with a giant box of books.  That’s why I’m giving away several here this week (autographed books, not eyeballs).  All you have to do is leave a comment and you’re entered to win.

This copy includes the new chapter, which you might possibly be in. Please don't sue me.

What should you comment about?  Anything.  Your favorite toe.  The pet names of your body parts.  How many glass eyeballs you think a normal person uses in a lifetime.  The number of bodies you can fit under your bed.  It’s totally up to you.

Also, for some strange reason this bewildering memoir is still on the Indie Bestseller lists and the NYT bestseller list and I’m still getting emails from people who had never even heard of this blog but who stumbled over the book and are so thankful that they’ve finally found their tribe.  Thank you for being that tribe.  And thank you for letting me be a part of it.

PLEASE COME! (No pressure or anything.)

The last leg of my book tour starts just in a few days and I just realized that it’s on April Fool’s Day.  I can only assume that I’m going to show up and the bookstore is going to be like “What? There’s no event here.  This is a marina.  You’ve been booked to scrape barnacles off of boats.”  But the joke’s on them because I love scraping barnacles.  Plus, if you show up I’ll force them to let me do a reading and a signing in between the barnacle stuff.  It’ll be awesome.  Or terrible.  Probably both.

April 1 ~ San Francisco, CA, Books Inc. (in the Marina, apparently), 7pm

April 2 ~ Danville, CA Rakestraw, 7pm

April 3 ~ San Jose, CA Barnes & Noble, 7pm

April 4 ~ Phoenix, AZ Barnes & Noble, 7pm

PS. I’m not sure how, but somehow this insane book is still on the NYT list.  And that?  Is a damn miracle.  One that you created.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

And to thank you even more I’m going to give a few of you an autographed copy of my book which you can’t read.  Unless you can read German.  In which case, you are way smarter than me.

For German publisher

Unless you want the English copy. Whatever. Just tell me what you want in the comments and if you get picked I’ll give it to you.  Unless what you want is a bunch of eyeless faces in a box.  Those are mine.

Thank you!

EEEEEEEE.

That is the sound of a hamster being squeezed too tightly by a three-year-old.  It is also the sound I’m making after finding out that your tremendous support of the paperback version of my book (which came out last week) is now #5 on the NYT paperback list.  I am so incredibly lucky to have such an amazing community behind me who is willing to buy a book all over again just so they can read the bonus chapter.  Also, I have lots of great tour stories to tell you when the tour is finally over (Come see me?) but for now let me just say that the greatest part about touring is watching nervous people creep in alone but leave as groups of new friends.  I am so lucky to be a part of your bizarre tribe.

Picture of a few awesome people from last week's book tour. They smelled like cupcakes and magnificence.

And to thank you a tiny bit for all of  your bad-assness I’m giving away five autographed copies of the new book this week.  And if you already have one you can just sell it on eBay, or use it as a coaster, or give it to your newest friend to test how easily offended they are.  Just leave a comment and I’ll pick people before I leave again for the next leg of the tour.

PS.  For real.  Thank you.  We did this together.

Burdle is a real word. Don't question me, spellcheck.

Conversation with my husband:

Victor:  Ugh.  I’m having a shitty day.

me:  What’s wrong?  Release your burdle unto me.

Victor:  Um…my what?

me: Your burdle.  it’s short for “bundle of burdens”.

Victor: That’s not a real word.

me: It is.  I just used it.

Victor: Just because you say it doesn’t mean that it’s a real word.

me:  Actually, it does.  That’s where new words come from.  I’m like the stork of new words.

Victor:  Well if it’s short for “bundle of burdens” wouldn’t that be “bundens”?

me:  Bundens?  Don’t be ridiculous.  “Bundens” is not a real word.  

Victor: You make my head hurt.

me: You’re my husband.  It’s the heavy burdle you have to bear.

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And in other news, it’s time for the weekly wrap-up:

What you missed in my shop (tentatively called “Eight pounds of uncut cocaine” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

What you missed on the internets:

This week’s wrap-up is sponsored by Flip Your Cats.  From the makers: “Flip the Cats is simple to learn, challenging and fun; you trap and capture your opponent’s cats by placing yours around them. Place your cats on either side of your opponent’s to flip it to your colour… but on their turn, your opponent can do the same to you.  FLIP YOUR CATS TO VICTORY.”