Like A Lampshade in a Whorehouse

I finished reading the Phyllis Diller bio and it was kind of a let down. I was excited when I began it, but upon completing it I can honestly say it made no sense. I was expecting comedy tales of yore, and instead it went on for chapters about her insane first husband who she mousily tolerated. So I was getting frustrated with that sob story. Then she talked about beginning her stand up act, and that was cool. My interest was re-ignited. She detailed her humble beginnings at small nightclubs in San Francisco's North Beach, and talked about having to wear threadbare suits. I was way into it then, enjoying her talking about her clawing her way to fame. And then, in the span of a few pages, she was talking about her network variety show?!? I mean, what? Talk about anti-climactic. And again, so much time was spent on stupid, stupid men. In one chapter, she talks about the man she was so attracted to she left her husband for and then married. In the next chapter, he's a blatantly gay drunk who blows a chauffeur and she smells semen on his breath (that was actually kind of entertaining and juicy, but still). Again, she STAYS WITH HIM. ARRRRGH!!!! In one sentence, she states that she had lots of one night stands when she was married to the first dickhead and on the road, but that they were all "accidents". How fucking lame! Let's talk about that and the psychology behind cheating on your leech first husband- let us feel like you did SOMETHING to take care of your own needs! That's what people want to hear about ,not how the same stupid husband wouldn't help with the kids and house work. Haven't we all heard that tired shit before? There was so little about her approach to comedy in the book; for a budding comedian and fan, it was useless. Occasional moments would tantalize me- the never-realized attraction between she and Bob Hope, working with the real Gyspy Rose Lee on a sitcom, finding the love of her life at 68 (he was a sprightly 75), posing for Playboy at a mature age and not being ashamed to talk about having tons of plastic surgery- all of that was fascinating. And then, you'd have the letdown of babbling about her boring-assed kids. The majority of the book could have been written your average mousy Christian housewife. I am bummed. I have to write a review of it, and I don't want to chew her out in print (blogs don't count) because I do still admire her from a performance standpoint. But christ almighty, how fucking boring.

Sorry to vent but I am procrastinating today.

The TiVo FINALLY had a sleepover at Ben's and if all goes well, shall be coming home this very eve to enrich my earthly existence.