While courageously admitting to being "euphorically antisocial" and "sick in the head," he allows us to plunge even deeper into his troubled psyche in this unabashedly uproarious memoir-in-essays where we observe Resnick’s committed indifference to family, friends, strangers, and the world at large. His mind shaped by such touchstone events as a traumatic Easter egg hunt when he was six (which solidified his hatred of parties) and overwrought by obsessions, including one with a plastic shopping bag (which solidified his hatred for change), he refuses to be burdened by chores like basic social obligation and personal growth, living instead by his own steadfast rule: "I refuse to do anything I don’t want to do." Cut from a similar (if somewhat stranger) cloth as Albert Brooks or Louis C.K., Resnick is the crazy, miserable bastard you can’t help rooting for, and the brilliant Will Not Attend showcases this seasoned comedy writer at his brazenly hilarious best.

    Woven throughout the ctional fun in Elliott's memoir are wonderful real-life anecdotes that will delight many new readers and loyal fans alike. "The arc of [Elliott's] career remains unique and inspiring . . . that he blazed a trail for Arrested Development and Community and all the other freaky, convention-outing TV comedies."—Grantland

    Classic read from a very funny Dad.

    Christmas is supposed to be a time of peace on earth and goodwill toward all. But not for Lewis Black.He says humbug to the Christmas tradtitions and trappings that make the holiday memorable. In I'm Dreaming of a Black Christmas, his hilarious and sharply observed book about the holiday, Lewis lets loose on all things Yule. It's a very personal look at what's wrong with Christmas, seen through the eyes of "the most engagingly pissed-off comedian ever."*From his own Christmas rituals—which have absolutely nothing to do with presents or the Christmas tree or Rudolph—to his own eccentric experiences with the holiday (from a USO Christmas tour to playing Santa Claus in full regalia), I'm Dreaming of a Black Christmas is classic Lewis Black: funny, razor-sharp, insightful, and honest.You'll never think of Christmas in the same way.

    Bejesus, isn't America a great and wonderful country?" His older brother Frank's Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir, Angela's Ashes, took its somber tone from the bleak atmosphere of those slums, while Malachy's boisterous recollections are fueled by his zestful appreciation for the opportunities and oddities of his native land. He and Frank were born in Brooklyn, moved with their parents to Ireland as children, then returned to the States as adults. This book covers the decade 1952-63, when Malachy roistered across the U.S., Europe, and Asia, but spent most of his time in New York City. There his ready wit and quick tongue won him an acting job with the Irish Players, a semiregular stint on The Tonight Show hosted by Jack Paar, and friendships with some well-heeled, well-born types who shared his fondness for saloon life and bankrolled him in an East Side saloon that may have been the first singles bar. He chronicles those events--and many others--with back-slapping bonhomie. Although McCourt acknowledges the personal demons that pursued him from his poverty-stricken childhood and destroyed his first marriage, this is on the whole an exuberant autobiography that pays tribute to the joys of a freewheeling life.

    Uncle Burst's belief that his face is made of pasta is one of the milder notions with which he regales the family. Uncle Snapper is confined to a treehouse because of the uncontrollable urges he feels once his gun is loaded. Uncle Blute drowned in the lake at the wheel of his Morris Traveller, where he remains perfectly preserved. And Nanny Jack refuses all efforts to bury her and strikes terror into her relatives' hearts as she abandons yet another final resting place. Throughout this happy breed strolls a nameless anti-hero, who, when not kidnapped by clowns or puzzling out the fossilised family tree, is passionately in love with his spaced-out sister, Adrienne ...

    From epidurals and stretch marks to diaper rash and day care, never before have the joys, trials, and tribulations of having and raising a baby been so ingeniously and truthfully rendered. Hatched! is the one book you need to keep you laughing through your pregnancy and first year of motherhood. PRAISE: "There are two stars in Tanen's books: her vermouth-sloshed wit shot through with a neurotic darkness, and miniature chenille chickens toting fingernail-sized Louis Vuitton bags ... [In] her new book, "Hatched! The Big Push From Pregnancy to Motherhood," ...[Tanen] redirected her alkaline humor at her fellow high-end parents. Now the chicks are obsessed with Baby Uggs, Bugaboo Strollers and whether their babies will master Mommy and Me yoga classes." -Los Angeles Times "Sometimes, the best gift for a mom is a laugh. Even the most sleep-deprived mother would be hard-pressed not to break a smile at Sloane Tanen's little toy chicken tableaus in 'Hatched!: The Big Push from Pregnancy to Motherhood.' It takes other authors entire memoirs to skewer some of the same targets that Tanen does in one-page zingers."-Seattle Times "With witty photographs...and droll captions...it's the perfect gift for the pending or new mother. It's certainly good for some big belly laughs."-Daily News "Sloane Tanen's latest work Hatched! is a hilarious, totally original take on the trials and traumas of pregnancy and motherhood. And by the way, Hatched! is THE PERFECT BABY SHOWER GIFT. We highly recommend." -Mommy Track'd "If best-selling author Sloane Tanen's books Bitter with Baggage Seeks Same and Going for the Bronze-both of which are illustrated with chickens-left you chuckling and buying copies for friends, wait until you flip thro

    Even if he is gorgeous and successful Calvin Morrisey. Cal knows commitment is impossible, especially with a woman as cranky as Min Dobbs. Even if she does wear great shoes and keeps him on his toes. When they say good-bye at the end of their evening, they cut their losses and agree never to see each other again.But Fate has other plans, and it's not long before Min and Cal meet again. Soon, they're dealing with a jealous ex-boyfriend, Krispy Kreme donuts, a determined psychologist, chaos theory, a freakishly intelligent cat, Chicken Marsala, and more risky propositions than either of them ever dreamed of. Including the biggest gamble of all—true love.

    Symptoms include:*Acute embarrassment at the mere notion of making a fuss;*Extreme awkwardness when faced with any social greeting beyond a brisk handshake;*An unhealthy preoccupation with meteorology.Doctors have also reported several cases of unnecessary apologising, an obsessive interest in correct queuing etiquette and dramatic sighing in the presence of loud teenagers on public transport. If you have experienced any of these symptoms, you may be suffering from VERY BRITISH PROBLEMS. VERY BRITISH PROBLEMS are highly contagious. There is no known cure.Rob Temple's hilarious new book reveals all the ways in which we are a nation of socially awkward but well-meaning oddballs, struggling to make it through every day without apologising to an inanimate object. Take comfort in misfortunes of others. You are not alone.

    Oblivious to the mayhem unfolding, Matthews highly strung wife frets over giving birth to twins and Katy's much younger boyfriend refuses to take fatherhood seriously.Love and life are messy but Katy and Matthew take things to a whole new level as deep emotions begin to resurface and hormones run riot.How will they navigate their way through this almighty pick-up?

    Point is, she cost me my two best friends ten years ago. It’s payback time, and I’m going to make her life hell.When I’m not banging her silly and myself stupid.I need to get my head back in business, because getting off is great, but "He was a man who had sex, and lots of it, and in the worst locations, with the woman of his nightmares" isn’t the inscription I want on my tombstone.Even if it’s true.AmbrosiaThere are three things I hate:Bratwurst in any form, my neighbors boinking loudly like farm animals at 3 AM, and Chase Jett.Mostly I hate Chase Jett. It’s been ten years since he took my virginity—I’d make a bratwurst joke, but the unfortunate truth is that it would have to be a bratbest joke, and yes, it kills me to admit it—and now he’s not only a billionaire, he’s also my new boss.Turns out our hate is mutual. And this kind of hate is horrifically twisted, filthy, and banging hot.I just might have to hate him forever.MISTER McHOTTIE is 45,000 gloriously hilarious, hot, sexy words that your mother warned you about, complete with an organic happy-ever-after (or seven), a Bratwurst Wagon, ill-advised office pranks, and no cheating or cliffhangers.

    Nancy? He's a superstitious Vegas high-roller who wants to gamble at a casino in his lucky shrimp outfit...He's the genius inventor of "Six Day Underwear"...He's a stage actor who only travels while dressed as a stick of butter...He is, in reality, a twisted prankster—a supremely off-kilter alter ego who sends patently ridiculous letters to corporate honchos, entertainment conglomerates, national publications, politicians, celebrities and heads of state. His innocent requests, queries, complaints, demands, and suggestions are so absurd it is amazing they fool anyone—but often the deadpan responses he receives are even more hilarious: "Dear Mr. Nancy, It is not often that we receive such enthusiastic support for the paper bag."  —The Paper Bag Council"On behalf of Greyhound, there should be no problem traveling while in your butter costume." —Greyhound Bus Lines"I look forward to working with you to create a better future for this great nation." —Vice President Al GoreLetters From A Nut is an insanely inspired, truly madcap collection of Nancy correspondence, a wet-yourself-in-a-public place funny aggregation of official—and officially certifiable—requests, complaints, fan mail and questions that could not possibly have been taken seriously...but, amazingly, were.

    There was the location: an impoverished, nuclear waste-riddled area of the American Midwest. There was her mother, a woman who speaks almost entirely in strange koans and warnings of impending danger. Above all, there was her gun-toting, guitar-riffing, frequently semi-naked father, who underwent a religious conversion on a submarine and discovered a loophole which saw him approved for the Catholic priesthood by the future Pope Benedict XVI - despite already having a wife and children.When the expense of a medical procedure forces the 30-year-old Patricia to move back in with her parents, husband in tow, she must learn to live again with her family's simmering madness, and to reckon with the dark side of a childhood spent in the bosom of the Catholic Church. Told with the comic sensibility of a brasher, bluer Waugh or Wodehouse, this is at the same time a lyrical and affecting story of how, having ventured into the underworld, we can emerge with our levity and our sense of justice intact.

    Where do we come from? Who created us? Why are we here? These questions have puzzled us since the dawn of time, but when it became apparent to Jon Stewart and the writers of The Daily Show that the world was about to end, they embarked on a massive mission to write a book that summed up the human race: What we looked like; what we accomplished; our achievements in society, government, religion, science and culture -- all in a tome of approximately 256 pages with lots of color photos, graphs and charts. After two weeks of hard work, they had their book. EARTH (The Book) is the definitive guide to our species. With their trademark wit, irreverence, and intelligence, Stewart and his team will posthumously answer all of life's most hard-hitting questions, completely unburdened by objectivity, journalistic integrity, or even accuracy. Also available as an ebook and as an audiobook.

    She’s already near her breaking point, so when one caller too many kicks the bucket during Hollie’s 911 shift, she cashes in the Sweethearts’ Spa & Stay gift certificate from her dad and heads to Revelation Cove, British Columbia. One caveat: she’s going solo. Any sweethearts will have to be found on site.Hollie hopes to find her beloved otters in the wilds of the Great White North, but instead she’s providing comic relief for staff and guests alike. Even Concierge Ryan, a former NHL star with bad knees and broken dreams, can’t stop her from stumbling from one (mis)adventure to another. Just when Hollie starts to think that a change of venue doesn’t mean a change in circumstances, the island works its charm and she starts to think she might have found the rejuvenation she so desperately desires. But then an uninvited guest crashes the party, forcing her to step out of the discomfort zone where she dwells and save the day … and maybe even herself in the process.