NOTE TO READERS: Certain names and characteristics have been changed throughout the work, regardless of whether such changes are specifically identified.
HarperCollins Publishers
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First published in the US by Gallery Books, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, Inc. 2016
First published in the UK by HarperCollins Publishers 2016
FIRST EDITION
© Amy Schumer 2016
Cover layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2016
Front cover photograph © Mark Seliger
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available from the British Library
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identified as the author of this work
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Sources ISBN: 9780008172374
Ebook Edition © August 2016 ISBN: 9780008172404
Version: 2017-11-10
For Kimby and Jasy
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
A Note to My Readers
An Open Letter to My Vagina
My Only One-Night Stand
I Am an Introvert
On Being New Money
An Introduction to My Stuffed Animals
Dad
Excerpt from My Journal in 1994 (Age Thirteen) with Footnotes from 2016
Officially a Woman
Camp Anchor
How I Lost My Virginity
Things You Don’t Know About Me
Can’t Knock the Hustle
Excerpt from My Journal in 1999 (Age Eighteen) with Footnotes from 2016
Faked It ’Til I Maked It
Excerpt from My Journal in 2001 (Age Twenty) with Footnotes from 2016
Beautiful and Strong
Excerpt from My Journal in 2003 (Age Twenty-Two) with Footnotes from 2016
How to Become a Stand-up Comedian
Times It’s Okay for a Man to Not Make a Woman Come During Sex
The Worst Night of My Life
Things That Make Me Insanely Furious
Athletes and Musicians
Letter to the Editor
Secret Bad Habits
Mom
NYC Apartments
Blackouts and Stem Cells
An Exciting Time for Women in Hollywood
Mayci and Jillian
Things That Make Me Happy
The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow
What I Want People to Say at My Funeral
Rider for the Funeral of Amy Schumer
Forgiving My Lower Back Tattoo
Picture Section
Acknowledgments
Ending Gun Violence
About the Publisher
Hey, it’s me, Amy. I wrote a book! This is something I have wanted to do for a long time because I love making people laugh and feel better. Some of the stories you’ll read in here will be funny, like the time I shit myself in Austin, and some will make you feel a little blue, like the time my sister and I were almost sold into sex slavery in Italy. JK. Neither of these stories are in this book, even though both actually happened, unfortunately.
Speaking of, everything in this book really happened. It’s all true and nothing but the truth, so help me God. But it isn’t the whole truth . Believe it or not, I don’t tell you guys everything.
This book isn’t my autobiography. I will write one of those when I’m ninety. I just turned thirty-five, so I have a long way to go until I am memoir-worthy. But for now I wanted to share these stories from my life as a daughter, sister, friend, comedian, actor, girlfriend, one-night stand, employee, employer, lover, fighter, hater, pasta eater, and wine drinker.
I also want to clarify that this book has NO SELF-HELP INFO OR ADVICE FOR YOU. Over the last several years, I’ve been asked to write articles on topics like how to find a man. Or how to keep a man. Or how to rub a man’s taint at the right time. I don’t know how to do any of that stuff. I’m a flawed fuckup 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. I know what’s important to me, and that is my family (not all of them, for Christ’s sake, just some of them). And getting to laugh and enjoy life with friends. And to, of course, have an orgasm once in a while. I find at least once a day is best.
So anyway, I hope you enjoy my book, and if you don’t, please don’t tell anyone.
Wish me luck!
An Open Letter to My Vagina
First of all, I’m sorry. Second of all, you’re welcome.
I know I’ve put you through a lot. I’ve had hot wax poured on you and the hair ripped from you by strangers. Some of the strangers have burned you even though I told them you have very sensitive skin. But it’s on me for going to a shady-looking place in Astoria, Queens, that you thought may have been a drug front. I’ve been responsible for getting you yeast infections and UTIs and have worn stockings and Spanx for too long, knowing it could cause you problems. And I want to apologize for Lance on the lacrosse team, who treated you like you owed him money with his finger. That sucked, and I’m totally with you in being pissed. But you’ve also had a lot of nice visitors, right? Huh? You have to admit we’ve had a lot of fun together. I even fought to be able to call you “pussy,” which I know you prefer, on television.
I’ve honestly done my best as I’ve gotten older to only let people visit who will be kind to you, and I feel like I’ve done my part to keep you healthy. I know that sometimes I let people in you without a condom, but, in my defense, it feels better that way and it was only the people I was dating and trusted. Well, mostly. But we really have lucked out, haven’t we?
I’m also sorry for the time I had sex with my new boyfriend and we couldn’t find the condom afterward and then three days later I realized it was stuck in me and I had to “bear down,” as they say, and fish it out. That must have been a real bummer for you. Or maybe it was fun to have a visitor for so long? Either way, my bad!
So what do you say? Let’s grab a beer together. Okay, fine, nothing with yeast. And you’re buying.
I’ve only had one one-night stand in my life. Yes, one. I know, I’m so sorry to disappoint anyone who thinks I walk around at all times with a margarita in one hand and a dildo in the other. Maybe the misunderstanding comes from the fact that onstage, I group together all my wildest, worst sexual memories – which is a grand total of about five experiences over the course of thirty-five years. When you hear about them all back-to-back it probably sounds like my vagina is a revolving door at Macy’s at Christmastime. But I talk about these few misadventures because it’s not funny or interesting to hear about someone’s healthy, everyday sex life. Imagine me onstage saying, “So last night I got in bed with my boyfriend and we held each other in a supportive, caring embrace, and then he made sweet love to me.” The crowd would walk out and I’d walk out with them.
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