The autobiography of Tina Fey. The first part of the book I found very interesting, but slowly the stories and humor wore thin for me. Seeing as how I have not watched 30 Rock, many of the later bits I skimmed over. I felt like this book only went so deep into Fey’s life and I wanted more.
When choosing sexual partners, remember: Talent is not sexually transmittable.
My whole life, people who ask about my scar within one week of knowing me have invariably turned out to be egomaniacs of average intelligence or less. And egomaniacs of average intelligence or less often end up in the field of TV journalism.
You could put a blond wig on a hot-water heater and some dude would try to fuck it.
The stomachache I felt had nothing to do with a crush. I had to face the fact that I had been using my gay friends as props. They were always supposed to be funny and entertain me and praise me and listen to my problems, and their life was supposed to be a secret that no one wanted to hear about. I wanted them to stay in the “half closet.”
“Gay people were made that way by God, but not solely for my entertainment.” We can’t expect our gay friends to always be single, celibate, and arriving early with the nacho fixin’s. And we really need to let these people get married, already.