Everything Is Perfect When You're a Liar

BOOK: Everything Is Perfect When You're a Liar
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DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my childhood glasses.
You made me who I am today.

CONTENTS

Dedication

Introduction

Queen of the World or Something

She's a Darling, She's a Demon, She's a Lamb

Fuck You Forever

Tweezers

I Peed My Pants and Threw Up on a Chinese Man

Work Experience 101

Finding Leo

The Terrible Horrible

How I Met Your Father: When the Children Ask, This Is What I Will Have to Tell Them

Life with Harvey

The Backup Plan

An Open Letter to the Nurse Who Gave Me an Enema Bottle and Told Me to Do It Myself While I Was High on Morphine

My Zoo

Vegas

Frogger

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Copyright

About the Publisher

INTRODUCTION

KELLY
:

I need to write an introduction for my book.

SALINGER,

AGE ELEVEN

Like what?

KELLY
:

An introduction for my book. Like, a “Hey, what's up, I'm Kelly's book.”

HENRY,

AGE EIGHT
:

Your book,
How I Molest Your Mother
?

SAL
:

Can I be in the introduction?

KELLY
:

I'm not calling the book
How I Molest Your Mother
, Henry.

SAL
:

Just say, “Buy this book, it's hilarious.” There. That's an introduction.

HENRY
:

Write this down, say, “My stupid kids are in this, it's hilarious. Buy it today.”

KELLY
:

Don't you want to know what the book is about?

HENRY
:

How You Molest Your Mother
? Okay, okay, fine. I'll stop making that joke.

SAL
:

Can I read the book?

KELLY
:

Yes.

SAL
:

Who are you dedicating it to? Your beautiful children? Your loving husband? Angela? Aimee? Your sister? Your editors?

KELLY
:

I don't know. Does that make me a bad writer?

SAL
:

Yes. NO . . . I thought you were going to say, “Does that make me a bad person?” It makes you a bad
person
but not a bad
writer
.

KELLY
:

So how do I get people to buy the book?

SAL
:

Put it on sale, like normal people do. Or dedicate it to everyone in the world so people feel like it's about them.

KELLY
:

Henry, quit watching
Adventure Time
.

SAL
:

It's the
Regular Show
. Know the difference.

KELLY
:

Bea, why are you sitting on the other side of the room? Come talk to me about my book.

BEATRIX,

AGE FOUR
:

I'd better not be in the book. I don't want to be in it at all. I'm going to see Dad.

KELLY
:

Maybe I should write the introduction about how some people try to make their lives seem perfect but end up just filtering out all the good stuff.

HENRY
:

Like Britney Spears, but her life sucks.

SAL
:

Morgan Freeman seems perfect. He sounds perfect.

HENRY
:

Martha Stewart, but she went to jail. Rihanna.

SAL
:

Rihanna was punched by Chris Brown.

KELLY
:

Do you think that maybe some people have boring lives because they don't take risks?

HENRY
:

Martha Stewart.

KELLY
:

Her life doesn't seem boring.

HENRY
:

The hoarder guy in the Speedo who lives across the street from us. His house is full of garbage.

SAL
:

Henry, he stands outside in a Speedo. He's a risk taker.

HENRY
:

You're right. Mom, if I see someone pick up your book in the bookstore, I'm gonna whisper, “Buy it, buy it.” Okay, I want to watch TV.

KELLY
:

But I need ideas.

HENRY
:

Only if I get some of that Coke.

KELLY
:

Fine.

SAL
:

I need some too. Now what?

KELLY
:

What do you think a perfect life is?

SAL
:

Like the lady in
Troop Beverly Hills
, only if she wasn't getting a divorce.

KELLY
:

Right, and if she left out the part where she was getting a divorce she'd be lying, but her life would be totally perfect.

SAL
:

Uh, yeah.

KELLY
:

But a lot of my life sounds like a lie because I'm not perfect and I do a lot of weird and stupid things.

SAL
:

What? Too deep.

KELLY
:

Sal, quit reading that magazine.

HENRY
:

Shh, one more thing . . . [Henry farts.]

KELLY
:

I think the stories in the book are basically about how you can't and shouldn't sugarcoat things.

SAL
:

You don't sugarcoat anything.

BEA
:

I'm back, and I have two spoons in my chocolate milk.

HENRY
:

I think Christina Aguilera's life is perfect. Wait. Maybe not. She has lots of sad songs and lots of weird ones, like the one where she is in a bra in a cage and singing with mud on her. Man, I love when you drink a Coke then hit your stomach and you can hear the Coke in there. Can I have chips? A peanut butter cup? Otherwise I'm watching my show and doing homework.

KELLY
:

Fine.

HENRY
:

Sounds like you really need us. How's life?

KELLY
:

I'm stressed. What can I tell people about me?

SAL
:

You like Coke.

HENRY
:

You're obsessed with Coke . . . You're fat! Tell them you're fat.

SAL
:

She isn't fat, Henry.

HENRY
:

Tell them to look for you on Twitter and see how funny you are there. DONE
.
BOOM
.
That's a good one, write that down. Can I just un-pause the TV to see this one thing?

KELLY
:

NO! I GAVE YOU CANDY!

HENRY
:

Did you write this book to make dough?

KELLY
:

Yeah, when you were little we lived in a basement apartment and drove a Sunfire.

SAL
:

OMG and look, now you and Taylor Swift have the same shoes. Taylor Swift's housekeeper says she's a crazy cat lady. She leaves milk out for strays.

HENRY
:

Cats get diarrhea from milk.

SAL
:

This says Britney Spears hides burgers under her bed.

HENRY
:

I
knew
her life was perfect.

QUEEN
OF THE
WORLD
OR SOMETHING

“DAMON!” I shouted, my smaller-than-average, tiny six-year-old hands cupped over my mouth. I pushed my giant plastic-framed glasses back up on my nose, re-magnifying my eyeballs, restoring my resemblance to a cartoon character.

Damon's mom, Karen, opened the gate. She was tiny with an odd blond bowl cut, and she had a loud, gravelly voice I was obsessed with. My voice was completely average. I wanted a weird voice like hers; I wanted everyone to have a weird voice like hers.
My
mom, Gaye, was a total weirdo and yet she sounded completely normal, with a completely average voice. I like the idea that we can contain our weirdness, but I prefer it when we wear it all over ourselves.

“Honey! Come in. Damon is just in the house. You want some cookies? You want to watch
Dukes of Hazzard
?”

“I just wanted to know if Damon would come over and audition for my play.”

“Kelly! You wrote a play? What's it called?”

“It's called
Star Wars.

“Honey,” she said, smiling the smile of the kindly patronizer, “you didn't write
Star Wars
, did you?”

“I've
adapted
it, for the stage. It's my best play ever. And I think Damon's a natural Darth Vader.”

The front door opened, and there was Damon—working a brown velour jumpsuit, his cowlicks sticking straight up. He looked like a tiny Tony Soprano. With the back of his hand, he wiped a smear of peanut butter and crumbs off his face. Even at the age of six, I knew Damon was a natural entertainment agent, or morning radio DJ.

“Kelly, I don't hang out with
girls
anymore,” he said. “I'm not playing with you.”

Karen marched up the steps and slapped the back of Damon's head. “Damon! What did I tell you about manners? Damon?! Look at me.”

Damon looked up at Karen, who wasn't that much taller than he was. “
Whaaat?
” He shrugged, feigning confusion.

Karen looked at me and sighed, shaking her head. “My boy has ze-ro manners, Kelly. ZE-RO.” She turned back to Damon. “What's wrong with you?”

“GIRLS SUCK! THEY THINK THEY'RE SO GREAT!”

Karen flung a single finger at her son, like a switchblade aimed at Damon's fat peanut-buttery face. “You keep saying things like that and one day you'll wake up and YOU WILL BE A GIRL, Damon! YOU WILL WAKE UP WITH A VAGINA!”

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