Holy hell. Usually I finish a celebrity memoir and think I wouldn't like to meet them because they're boring, but this one left me legitimately terrified of ever meeting Shannon.

The book opens with the car crash that resulted in the deaths of her mom and sister, so I expected it to be sad, introspective, using comedy as a way out of one's sorrow. I kept expecting her to learn from her mistakes, grow, and realize that her father is a horrible man and abuser. But she just kept doing shitty things and never emotionally dealt with any of them.

This felt like reading a selfish high schooler's diary, not an adult memoir.