Giveaway Junkie

GIVEAWAY: “I Know What I’m Doing and Other Lies I Tell Myself” by Jen Kirkman!

Oh chipmunks. Do you remember those days when I used to give away slap bracelets, shake hands with babies, and make rainbows out of rain?


I miss those days.

But wait! Thanks to the Simon & Schuster publishing house, we’re getting old school up in here!

That’s right – another giveaway! I’ve cleared the cobwebs, opened the Franzia, and invite you all to vie for a chance to win a copy of…

“I Know What I’m Doing and Other Lies I Tell Myself” by Jen KirkMAN!

Okay, so perhaps I’m a tad tardy with this giveaway.

I don’t know why Simon & Schuster contacted me. Jen Kirkman is a hilarious, divorced, comedy writer with an empty refrigerator and flawless fashion sense.

Oh wait.

Jules at an 'NSync concert; circa 2000.
Jules at an ‘NSync concert; circa 2000.

Jen is also stand-up comedian, best-selling author, and occasional cradle robber. If you’ve seen her Netflix comedy special, I’m Gonna Die Alone (And I Feel Fine), you know this gal is the real deal.


I could give you a book synopsis, but I’d rather share my favorite quote:

“I looked at the second cheese board and lost my appetite. I was happy talking to Allison. I felt like myself again. I was happy. And when I’m happy I don’t abuse cheese. Cheese is a privilege.”


Simply leave a comment describing some of the worst advice you’ve ever given or been given (or observed being given). I’ll let the magnanimous Babs (mother extraordinaire) choose a winner, announced the week of May 1, 2016.



P.S. – I’ve never stopped loving you. I’ve just been really busy. Reading this awesome book. And worrying about the apple slice I dropped between the driver’s seat and middle console of my car last week.


16 thoughts on “GIVEAWAY: “I Know What I’m Doing and Other Lies I Tell Myself” by Jen Kirkman!”

  1. My friend: Why don’t you wear this? *hands me a black bra and a white tight fitting t-shirt* It’s super classy.

    I love Jen Kirkman!

  2. Worst advice ever given to me: (And I still get it since I’ve chosen not to have children.): “You’ll feel different when they are yours.” Uh. I do LIKE kids, just don’t want my own (My hubby and I are a terrific aunt and uncle to all sorts of kids in our church). So if I’ll feel different, does this mean I’ll hate children?

  3. Worst advice? Hmmm. Tough to choose. Because unlike the always brilliant and magnanimous Babs (and did I mention lovely and kind?), my mom’s advice was pretty much the worst. Like the time I wore one of those adult onesie things that were popular in the early 90s, and realized you could see the outline of my bra right through it, which looked weird, so my mom suggested that I just not wear a bra. And then allowed, nay encouraged, her teenaged daughter to leave the house, in the winter, in a thin, skin-tight shirt to go meet her boyfriend at a high school wrestling meet. Good times.

  4. Worst advice from a female friend on having reservations about marrying “D” as I struggled with being 31 and “still single” ( this was in the ’80s, so you have to consider the pressure. And I’m from an Italian family. Pressure, pressure.) Here it is: “Everything’s a trade-off.”

  5. Somebody somewhere that one time thought, “hey, let’s breed these stupid little poodle dogs that totally suck with much better dogs so that we can sell shittier versions of the better dogs to people. We can call them what the F#ckeverdoodles!” Lol. Miss you!

  6. “Follow your heart.” -Dr.Tim Johnson to a graduating high-school class with me in it.
    The number of qualifications necessary to make this piece of advice not dangerous to a young me is staggering.

  7. Hey there Jules! After many moons of no blogging activity, a bout of insomnia, conveniently timed just before a new work week starts on Monday, has led me here to your latest post. I know I’m too late for the contest, but I have to relate this piece of very bad advice because I thought you’d get a kick out of it. 🙂

    So, it was late August 1990 and Danny Rolling had just killed 5 students on the campus of the U of Florida, where I was a returning sophomore. He killed them all in their off-campus apartments, and I also lived alone in an off-campus apartment. Everyone was staying with friends in big groups, sometimes 10 people staying in a 2-bedroom apartment. I told my mother I would be staying with some friends for a few nights.

    “Will there be boys sleeping there, too?” she asked.

    “Yes, there will be some boys. They’ll be in the living room, sleeping on the floor with their baseball bats.”

    And then my very conservative Catholic mother offered this advice: “Well, just be sure you don’t go from the frying pan into the fire!”

    Because being beheaded in your own bed by a stranger in the middle of the night was the frying pan, but SEX WAS THE FIRE!

  8. The advice part is easy: it would be the countless times I was counseled to work out my problems and stay married to my first wife. Many reasons, all debunked. In the end, sanity won out. Too bad it too me 20+ years after the marriage ended plus a stroke to, truly, figure that out.

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