Sarah Silverman - The Bedwetter

For my family. I am so proud to be a part of us.

In loving memory of John OHara.

In other words, I guess hes saying that if it was me writing, it would not really be a true foreword, it would simply be the start of the book, thus making the book effectively foreword-less. I would argue that, if this book is foreword-less, how can you be reading this at this very moment? That said, if you arent reading this, I cant blame you, since Ive said literally nothing so far.

Now, then.

I have known Sarah (me) for thirty-nine years. I have watched her grow from a flat-chested, gawky little blastocyst into a full-grown woman with big naturals and a major career. Her contributions have ranged from telling offensive racial jokes in dingy comedy clubs to playing a decisive role in getting the first person of color elected president. She has peed on mattresses up and down the Northeast Corridor and has used the topic of human excrement to vault her from obscurity into the global fame she enjoys today. Her life has been an inspiration, and I look foreword (!!!) to seeing what she does next. With her tremendous reserves of talent, Sarah just might cure AIDS, or at least cause it in deserving people like those genocidal dinks in Darfur. She might become the first Jewish president, or win the NASCAR award if something like that exists, or start some kind of movement. Or stop some movement thats especially annoying. Like those people who denounce circumcision and insist on ruining penises across the globe. I guess the effort to stop a movement could be called a Removement. Thats a horrible joke. The first thing Sarah should do with her powers is to put a stop to jokes like that. Sarah is the embodiment of possibility and promise. I love her.

Wow. Now, thats a foreword. Egg on your face much, HarperCollins?

Okay, I just read this over and I have to be honestIm maybe coming off a touch insecure. A hair overcompensate-y. Maybe its because I dont want to accept the hard truth about my precious book, which is that you are most likely going to be reading this, my freshman literary effort, while making a bowel movement. Theres one birthing its way out of you at this very moment, isnt there? Its okay. In fact, Im happy for you, and Im honored that youve chosen to bring me into this very private and vulnerable part of your life. For all you know, Im making one as I write this, except that I can tell you with all certainty that I dont do that. Ever. My asshole is as clean as a whistle. (Whistles are traditionally filled with gym-teacher saliva and women-who-fear-they-might-get-raped spit. So, yeah, thats the level of clean. You can see this is not a bragging thing)

Im not a literary genius. Im not Dostoyevsky, whoever that isIm pretty sure I just made that name up. Im only thirty-nine years old, with most of my final two years of show business still ahead of me. I was not an orphan. I have never blown anyone for coke or let other people do coke off any part of my body. I have never struggled with addiction and I was never molested. Tragically, my life has only been moderately fucked up. Im not writing this book to share wisdom or to inspire people. Im writing this book because I am a famous comedian, which is how it works now. If youre famous, you get to write a book, and not the other way around, so the next Dave Eggers better get a TV show or kill someone or something.

But I will say that my life has been interesting and often outright hilarious, so if you take it just one poop at a time, I think youll find the journey worthwhile.

I will give you the same advice about your poop that I give myself while writing this very book: Dont push.

Now wipe thoroughly, wash your handsboil them if you have toand Ill see you back here tomorrow morning after your cigarette and coffee.

Love,
Sarah