Amy Schumer’s raw new book, The Girl With the Lower Back Tattoo, surprisingly touches on some extremely deep stuff while unsurprisingly making readers laugh out loud throughout. Although Schumer openly discusses her personal experiences with sexual assault, relationship abuse, family fallouts, and her father’s chronic illness, she also shares quirky stories about her angst-filled younger years as well as some of her craziest sexual encounters and (surprise) the time she got her lower back tattooed by a drunk guy named Kurt in the East Village. If you find yourself feeling guilty for laughing at her pain, just keep in mind she’s probably laughing with you, unapologetically, in true Amy Schumer fashion. Here are some of the book’s funniest moments:
On attempting to lose her virginity:
“We’d gotten to third base, as they say, and I’d tried to jerk him off many times. But it never worked, and it became the cause of major frustration on both our parts. I was getting Michelle Obama arms, but no other good was coming out of it.â€
On being lazy (but clever about it):
“I faked falling in a dirt pile to get out of running a mile in gym class. I lay in the dirt until someone found me.â€
On being a good stand-up comedian:
“If they have to cringe or feel bad for you, their experience is ruined and they are taken completely out of the moment. Like when you fart during sex: Sure, you can finish and go through the motions, but something has been lost.â€
On her biggest pet peeves:
“People who bring a book to a bar deserve to be stoned. Don’t try to look mysterious and interesting. You are reading in a bar.â€
On her attempt to have sex with a well-endowed man:
“I lay back and tried to think of a more relaxing environment, like Guantanamo Bay or the shoe display at the Holocaust museum, but it wasn’t going to happen. He encouraged me to try to make it fit, to which I said, ‘I’m not going to try to force it in and deform my pussy just so I can have sex with you once. Sorry, bro. I’d rather not have to pick up my NuvaRing off the subway platform because it keeps falling out of my new gaping vag, courtesy of your endless BFG of a cock.’â€
On giving blow jobs:
“I could tell that he hoped I was going to just blow him. But he didn’t realize how lazy homegirl is. I’ve given maybe eight blow jobs to completion in my life.â€
On living in New York City:
“I will never leave. It’s home, the place where I can absolutely be myself — even if being myself means I have to nest with cockroach carcasses, rat droppings, and even worse, boyfriends. I fucking love New York.â€
On being a “woman in Hollywoodâ€:
“First, I’d like to thank all the people who pointed out that I was a woman … You made sure I didn’t lose sight of my ovaries. Thank you. Without your constant reminders, I may have just forgotten my uterus on a crosstown bus but you guys made me perpetually aware that I bleed once a month and I can tell a joke!â€
On attempting to be sexy and failing:
“I’d bought black lacy lingerie with a garter belt. I didn’t understand that you have to be a Victoria’s Secret model to not look insane in a getup like that. A still of Rupert Murdoch in a rocking chair would have looked sexier than I did in that outfit.â€
On her funeral:
“No guest shall be permitted entry if they are wearing a waist trainer, unless they are AMBER ROSE. She can wear whatever the F she wants.â€
How she’d like to be buried:
“Everyone should bring some sort of a pasta dish and pour it into the casket. Not a pasta salad. Don’t be an asshole.â€Â