I Hate Everyone...Starting with Me
NOW WITH NEW MATERIAL FOR THE PAPERBACK EDITION
“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” —Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1850
“How do I hate thee? How much time do you have?” —Joan Rivers, today, about two-ish
Joan Rivers, comedienne, actress, jewelry monger, and an award-winning international star (she can sneer in eight different languages) lives by the golden rule: Do unto others before they do unto you—and for God’s sakes, do it funny! Her career in comedy may have begun with self-loathing, but, after looking at the decrepitude around her, she figured, “Why stop here when there are so many other things to hate?” With all of her experiences, Joan has looked down at, turned away from, and thrown up over a lot of hateful things, deplorable places, and despicable people. Thank God she took notes.
Here—uncensored and uninhibited—Joan says exactly what’s on her mind…And HER mind is a terrible thing to waste. She proudly kicks the crap out of ugly children, dating rituals, funerals, and lousy restaurants. She nails First Ladies, closet cases, and hypocrites to the wall. She shows no mercy towards doctors and feminists, and even goes after Anne Frank and Stephen Hawking. Joan lets everyone—including herself—have it in this one hundred percent honest and unabashedly hilarious love letter to the hater in all of us.
This is absolute Joan Rivers. You gotta love her. Even if she hates you.
Includes new material!
Love may be a many-splendored thing, but hate makes the world go round. If you think I’m kidding, just watch the six o’clock news. The first twenty-nine minutes are all about dictators and murderers and terrorists and maniacs and, worst of all, real housewives. And then, at the very end of the show, there’s a thirty second human-interest story about some schmuck who married his cat. I rest my case.
Some things I’ve hated forever, some are new acquisitions, and some are just passing fancies. Today I hate happy TV weathermen, feminists who believe Gloria Steinem’s great looks hurt her, Gloria Steinem herself, people who mispronounce the word ask, studio apartments, guidance counselors, first ladies, old people. So if any of this offends you, or you happen to love puppies and kittens and the infirm . . . well . . . I’m impressed. I hate you, but I’m impressed . . .
I know what you’re thinking: “Joan, hate is a very strong word.” You’re right, it is, but I use it as an umbrella term, the way mental-health professionals use the word schizophrenia as a catchall for any particular brand of crazy they can’t identify. So when I say hate, I don’t necessarily mean hate. I could also mean loathe, detest, abhor, dislike, despise or resent. See, isn’t that kinder and gentler? If you think this makes you a better person than I am, good. You’re the idiot that actually paid for this book.
For those of you thinking, Geez, Joan seems a little angry, you’re half right. I am angry. I’m also fed up. I’m fed up with the morons and losers and cretins who are cluttering up the planet. Emma Lazarus wrote, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” I didn’t know she meant on my block. But being fed up and angry is better than being depressed. Psychologists tell us that depression is just anger turned inward, but I say, why waste your time? It is what it is and quite frankly I’d rather be angry than depressed. Why? Because antidepressants like Prozac, Wellbutrin and Zoloft can cause bloating—and I hate bloating!!! (I need to go back and add bloating to the list of things I hate. Is there anything worse than not being able to fit into a size two Valentino? I think not. Talk about depressing.)
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