Stirring the Pot: My Recipe for Getting What You Want Out of Life
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NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
The View host and New York Times bestselling author Jenny McCarthy is like your favorite friend: honest, open, and oh-so-funny. She also speaks her mind and says what the rest of us are thinking, a characteristic that has won her millions of fans no matter how much she “stirs the pot.” Combining the secrets of her hard-won wisdom, witty observations, revealing notes to herself (including ridiculously wishful wish lists), and tales of both her best and most embarrassing moments, Stirring the Pot is McCarthy’s recipe for getting what you want out of life. From her wacky experiences in show business to her screwball forays into healing “therapies,” from her frontline reporting of single motherhood in midlife to a goofy attempt to reclaim her last name from Joe McCarthy, here are outrageous musings from the roller coaster life of everyone’s favorite professional blonde.
With a winning mix of storytelling, sisterly advice, sex appeal, and self-deprecation, Stirring the Pot shows us how a pinch of conviction (aka hardheadedness), a dollop of flexibility (being okay with Plan B or even C), and endless faith (in yourself, in your wildest fantasies, and in the general goodness of others) can mix to create the life of your dreams.
Advance praise for Stirring the Pot
“Whether she’s talking about work or play, family or friendships, her sex life or the lack of it, Jenny McCarthy never fails to make me laugh out loud. Who knew she could dish out advice so well, too?”—Andy Cohen, host of Bravo’s Watch What Happens Live
was safely in the bathroom I could assess the damage. As I’d thought, I was a mess. There was no going back out there with the same pants on—they would need to be tossed. I stuck my head out the bathroom door and called for reinforcements: “Hello? Any female on the set, please, any female?” A young woman from the wardrobe department materialized, and I let her in. She went white when she saw the carnage. Sweet, naive, pre-motherhood girl that she was, she asked me if I’d just had a miscarriage.
has a way of focusing the issue. It’s not something you want to do in public, though, because you end up looking like you have multiple personality disorder and one of your personalities is Woody Woodpecker. I’d also rather have someone else tap on a certain body part while I focus on pleasure for a while, if you know what I mean. And then there’s rock climbing, a challenge I put myself through recently that was decidedly less relaxing. I’m not sure why I thought this kind of outdoorsy,
off the ground. Rock climbing takes upper-body strength, but more than anything, it takes balls. I thought I had them. Apparently not enough. I couldn’t force myself to climb any higher and told the instructor she was just going to have to build me a little platform and hoist my meals up in a basket. With lots of coaxing (something tells me that my kind of paralysis was not new to them), the instructor talked me into letting go of the support beam I was clinging to and allowing her to lower me
eight-legged, glossy-lipped, sexy beast. Girl power! (So the next time you see a pack of young girls out on the town like that, resist the urge to think that their tipsiness or their seeming availability means that they are shallow and careless. Trust me, they are less on the prowl for men than they are on the prowl for adventure. They are celebrating their freedom, their femininity, and the safety they feel when together. End of lecture!) Now that I’m older-ish, girls’ night in is the thing for
brain to think about European history (what real-life event will they tackle next?) and the nuances of television character development. Talking about the last SpongeBob episode … not so much. Looking at photos of my friend’s crazy night out in Vegas is nothing if not entertaining. Hearing stories about the kite at school that was painted red … not so much. Taking online tours of five-star vacation villas? Okay, I’ll admit that this is a slight waste of time, because building a pillow fort in