Jenny McCarthy

Jenny McCarthy’s book isn’t increibly lame… but it’s not the greatest either. As you might expect, it reads like a 200 page article from Glamour.

What you wouldn’t expect is her rant on why she wouldn’t recommend getting breast implants (hers are fake), how her geeky high school years and deeply religious upbringing clashed with posing in Playboy, or how she never wanted to be a model, but rather a comic…

This book doesn’t have a whole lot of continuity.

Last comment: it’s not a good idea to write your memoirs when you are 24.

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