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We have always liked Joan Rivers, from her appearance with Miss Piggy in a film to her MCI commercials to hearing her speak at this Lighthouse Gala:
Never have we laughed as hard as we did that night and the Joan Rivers experience is truly priceless when you experience it in person. She has been featured in Quotable Peachy many times, and also in our recent review on this book celebrating 111 years of Bergdorf Goodman:
Needless to say, when we heard she was coming out with a book, we were all about reviewing it. It seems as it was meant to be as well, as the minute Peachy got to the park on a beautiful day to read it and took the black cover out of her bag (she removes the jackets when actually reading the books), a bird from above marked it with white. Everyone knows this is good luck, and this omen – what could we do but laugh?!- set a precedent for our reaction to the hilarious work. Joan-if you are reading we would love a new copy (signed maybe please!) that we promise not to leave the house with-birds, stay away!
We love that Joan speaks our language: “…by New York, I mean Manhattan; anything west of Amsterdam Avenue I consider to be part of ‘the heartland.’” (p. 126)
The disclaimer that the book starts with continues to paint the picture of Joan’s pure wit and intelligence. There is so much that Peachy underlined in purple to share with you we hardly know where to begin, but do get the box of Kleenex because you’ll be laughing so hard you’ll be crying with waterworks down your cheeks. And for goodness sake you know you must possess a wicked sense of humor to enjoy this- no uptight politically-correct types should venture further. But we don’t think those kinds of people are reading us, anyway! In general we try to be as prim and proper as possible but we throw caution to the wind to do this book justice in this review, and will refrain from any extremely off-color remarks, but we will let you know there are some excellent ones in there you cannot miss. We will include the medium-bodied racy ones so you get an idea of Joan. We know Peachy Deegan is nowhere near as funny, so she’s going to step to the side and quote some of the genius eminating from this fantastic book (and note this list has been edited there were many more purple underlines!):
Joan comes up with some deep questions:
*What’s the correct wine with larvae? (p. 21)
She has great stories:
*I had another friend whose husband’s will said that if she didn’t visit him every day she wouldn’t get any money. So she had him cremated and sprinkled his ashes in Bergdorf Goodman, and hasn’t missed a day in twelve years. (p. 57)
Joan has life improvements to offer:
*Oh, and never call them pigs in a blanket. Use the classy term: pork in a duvet.
Some of our favorite Joanisms include these quotes from the book:
*I hate women who say, “I knew he was the one.” How could you know that? Did you already [sleep with] everyone else? Yet with Edgar, it was love at first sight for me; he was simply everything I wanted in a man: breathing and not repulsed.
*I hate boring funerals. Funerals are so boring. I like to play games to liven things up, games like Who’s Next? I like to make it every tenth person; trust me, it’ll get you giggling and the hours will fly. Pull My Finger is another terrific picker-upper.
*I hate maitre d’s….[his] reservation book is so white he’s getting snow-blind. And yet he says, “Do you have reservations?” No, do you think you could squeeze us in before that horrible 4:05 rush? (p. 106)
*I hate it when the waiter comes to the table and asks, “Would you like to see a menu?” What’s the correct response to that question: “No. Let me guess what you have in the refrigerator.” Or “No, I’m not worthy. I’ll just eat the crumbs off the lap of the old lady at table seven.” (p. 108)
*I hate it when restaurants have tables that are too close together. The only person that likes having strangers on top of him is George Michael in a public toilet. (p. 113)
*Tasting menus are bullshit. A lot of fancy-schmancy restaurants offer “tasting menus.” A tasting menu is when the chef sends out tiny little dollops of his favorite courses for you to taste and charges you three hundred dollars, which is about fifty bucks a dollop. (p. 114)
*I hate vegans. God gave you incisors, so what’s the problem? Not only are vegans annoying, but they look sickly. Right now, fast, name twenty vegans you’d like to bang. They don’t eat meat, they don’t eat poultry, they don’t eat fish, they don’t eat anything with a face…[she goes on!] (p. 120)
*I Hate George Washington. I hate him because he was stupid. In 1776, George Washington crossed the Delaware River. February 1776. In the winter! Across snow and ice. Who was his travel agent? Mohamed Atta? Wait until April when it thaws, big boy. Even more shocking, he went from Pennsylvania to New Jersey? Who goes to New Jersey? Even the bridges and tunnels only charge a toll to get out. (p.136)
*I hate people who have thousands of children. They say a child is the greatest gift a woman can receive. I don’t know who “they” are, but “they” have clearly never been to Bergdorf’s. (p. 18-and see who Joan thinks is a celeb baby hoarder)
*I can’t stand women who think that giving birth is some unique achievement that no one else has ever accomplished; that if it were not for their dropping Billy and Jimmy and Susie out of their wombs, the entire world would be an empty, desolate place-like a library in Alabama or a dentist’s office in England. (p. 14)
*I hate the women who run the stroller patrol-They were marching eight across, like a German panzer division or Saddam Hussein’s Red Army, barreling down the sidewalk, forcing everyone else to walk in the street. I said to one of them politely, “Hey, you’re taking up the entire sidewalk, bitch!” She scowled and yelled, “I have children!” I yelled back at her, “Well next time give your husband a blow job and you won’t! Why should I have to walk into oncoming traffic because you…” (p. 17 you can read to find out what she says next!!!)
Appreciate her now before Harry Winston gives her a toe tag at her request! We want you to live forever, Joan. We eagerly await your next book and your next gala appearance.
Whom You Know Highly Recommends I Hate Everyone Starting with Me by Joan Rivers! Joan we cannot wait to see what you come up with next.
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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
The most offensive, outrageous, laugh-out-loud,
I can’t believe she said that! book of the year…
JOAN RIVERS
I HATE EVERYONE…
STARTING WITH ME
“Rivers is back with an entertaining rant on how she hates nearly everything and everyone…A raucous, biting look at life.”
—Kirkus Reviews
Joan Rivers is having a moment! A show business veteran of more than 50 years, the comedian is hotter than ever, with two television shows (Joan and Melissa: Joan Knows Best on WE and Fashion Police on E!), regular appearances on late night television and QVC, and a calendar of standup gigs that would leave someone half her age exhausted. The 2010 documentary about Joan’s life—Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work—was a huge hit and led to a full-scale reassessment and newfound appreciation of Rivers and her career.
Joan’s career has been marked by a pioneering sense of self-deprecation (In Girl Scouts, they had to let out my tent), but in her new book she has decided to spread the disdain around—after all, there are so many things to hate. Nothing is off limits in I HATE EVERYONE…STARTING WITH ME (Berkley Hardcover; June 5, 2012; $25.95) as Joan weighs in on the things (and people) she hates, including:
Old people: I hate old people who refuse to die. Old people are like dairy products—they have an expiration date, and if they’re left on the shelf too long they go sour.
Dating: Even as a young girl I was terrible at dating. Compared to me, Carrie had more fun at her prom. Guys didn’t try to get me into the backseat of a car; they tried to get me under the back wheels.
Arizona: Arizona is filled with old people, asthmatics and prisoners, as well as old asthmatic prisoners.
Anne Frank: She only wrote the one book and didn’t finish it. What kind of a work ethic is that?
Marlee Matlin’s interpreter: I want to give him the finger.
Joan has seen it all—and she hates every last bit of it! Opinionated, shocking, but always funny, I HATE EVERYONE…STARTING WITH ME is Joan’s ode to all things in life that deserve a raised middle finger and is sure to be the most offensive, outrageous, laugh-out-loud, I can’t believe she said that! book of the year.
# # # #
I HATE EVERYONE…
STARTING WITH ME
by Joan Rivers
Berkley Books • June 5, 2012 • $25.95
ISBN: 978-0-425-248-30-0
*Available in hardcover, eBook, and audio editions*
