Kelly Osbourne's memoir There Is No F---ing Secret: We read it so you don't have to
Kelly Osbourne‘s epistolary new memoir, There Is No F—ing Secret: Letters from a Badass Bitch, is told through a series of letters to various people (and… things) in her life, from her family, to her lavender hair, to her vagina. Here, we’ve rounded up the 11 most outrageous passages from the book — so you don’t have to read it yourself.
On the set of Fashion Police, the fastidious Joan Rivers always placed a paper toilet seat cover on the seat, then set it on fire (this, in her mind, got rid of all the germs).
“Once the plastic toilet seat caught on fire. It melted and shriveled into a misshapen plastic mass, but the E! Budgets being what they were, instead of buying a new one, they just took the toilet seat from the men’s room and gave the blokes a burnt one.”
There was just one rule on her dad Ozzy’s tour bus, and it had to do with the bathroom.
The parties her parents threw at the end of Ozzy’s tours were epic.
“I saw a stripper f— a lollipop and give it to my manny (male nanny) to suck on. Another lay on her back and dumped an entire two-liter bottle of water up her gearbox, stood up, then bent over and sprayed the crows… The cherry on the cake, and the most disgusting thing I ever saw, was a pregnant woman shooting her breast milk into people’s mouths for backstage entertainment.”
She has lots of famous friends.
“I remember once talking to Princess Beatrice in the powder room at one of Elton John’s parties, and she told me how she’d gotten grounded for taking the tube,” Osbourne writes. She also says Amy Winehouse was the “mischievous ringleader” of her social group.
She has plenty to say about fashion — especially about the time her mother bought her an extravagant Hermes Birkin bag.
“I never carried it. When she inquired about it, I explained that to me, the bag was simply a status symbol—not a fashion symbol. Mum asked if I wanted something else, and when I declined, she returned with the same bag, but this time it had patches sewn all over it. One of them read ‘Amateur Gynecologist.’ And just like that, the handbag had been transformed to something… that felt like me.”
In the letter she writes to her vagina, she reveals that she’s an enthusiastic waxer.
“Shortly after I dyed my hair lavender, Joan asked me if the carpet matched the drapes, and I told her there was no carpet.”
The day her mother, who had cancer, suffered a seizure and was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, her father overdosed on drugs.
“[The paramedics] … decided not to call the police, but they said they were rushing Dad into detox as soon as they got to the hospital. They then handed me two zip-ties and I had to tie those gargantuan hands to a bar…so they could check his vitals and give him oxygen.”
She monitored her dad’s drug use via his handwriting.
“By the time I was a teenager, I could look at his handwriting and tell what drugs he was on — I wanted it to be sloppy, because that meant it was booze. If his letters were neat and tight, that meant something far, far worse.”
After her father’s ATV accident, he spent 14 days in a coma before regaining consciousness.
“It took him a couple of weeks to remember everyone else, but he knew who I was right away. Ha-ha, f—ers! I took him cheese and onion sandwiches and trifle, his favorite dessert, every day, and I knew he was going to be okay the day I showed up to see a bedpan flying out of the door of his room and hear him scream, ‘I can wipe my own ass, thank you very much!’”
She started using Botox in her 20s.
“I had frown lines crosshatching my forehead from squinting into the bright lights to read the monitors, and it gave me raging resting bitch face.”
Osbourne, who’s been clean for years, says she can’t count the number of times she detoxed.
“My first trip to rehab at 19 was a literal trip, after I was so f—ed up that I fell down on the living room floor and all my drugs came spilling out of my bag… My parents threw me into the back of an MTV production van, where the crew covered me with a blanket so they could sneak me past the paparazzi outside our house and take me to Promises Treatment Center in Malibu. I completely blacked out and didn’t come to until after I’d pissed myself in a chair in the waiting room at check-in.”