Nonfiction: Official Book Club Selection: A Memoir According to Kathy Griffin

NONFICTION
Any fan -- or, for that matter, nonfan -- of Kathy Griffin knows one thing: She never shuts up.

If you fall in the nonfan category, that unfiltered yapping is probably the reason you cringe and pummel the remote whenever you accidentally stumble upon her Emmy-winning Bravo reality show, "Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List."

But those who appreciate Griffin's acerbic, celeb-skewering, self-deprecating humor also know that her hyper-speed chattering is always brutally honest, no matter the topic.

This woman was born to write a memoir -- not only because it bears the hilariously clever title that just might confuse some people into thinking it really is endorsed by Oprah Winfrey -- but because Griffin writes like she talks.

These 348 pages are so breezily composed, you feel as if Griffin is in the room with you, excitedly gesturing as she recounts a story about having to save a chemically altered Andy Dick from himself at a joint appearance in Jacksonville a decade ago, or how old pal Conan O'Brien once stood her up as her date to a wedding, then showed up at the reception after he thought she had left.

Ouch.

But that's the beauty of "Official Book Club" -- Griffin has been made a fool countless times in her career and her willingness to share those lumps, which, face it, you'll never read in some Oscar-winning A-lister's autobiography, endears her tremendously.

Fans will chuckle at her opening letter to Winfrey -- Griffin is unabashedly obsessed with getting on the talk queen's show -- and absorb her tales about her entry into comedy as a member of Los Angeles' Groundlings comedy troupe, where she wrote and performed alongside O'Brien, Lisa Kudrow, Margaret Cho and Janeane Garofalo.

But, as candid as Griffin always appears on her TV show and in stand-up performances, she has refrained from discussing in detail several personal issues that she addresses here.

Viewers of "My Life on the D-List" have likely noticed that Griffin never drinks alcohol. The reason, she says, that she has never had a drink in her life, is because her parents' frequent consumption makes her fear addiction.

"I had friends who would drink because they were nervous, or they were shy," Griffin writes. "I wasn't really nervous, and I certainly wasn't shy. It's weird the way many guys over the years have said to me, 'I'm going to be the first to get you drunk!' I'd say, 'Why? What are you possibly going to gain? I'm going to loosen up more?"

Griffin also gets serious with a chapter about her now-deceased brother, Kenny, whom she disowned when she discovered he was a pedophile, and one about her marriage that ended after she learned her husband was stealing money from her. Also, those pondering plastic surgery or liposuction might want to view Griffin's brutal photos of her battered body after the procedure -- which almost killed her -- and read her recollection of waking up at a crucial moment during a nose job.

Ouch.

Since Griffin's shtick primarily consists of dishing about celebrities -- and now that she's more of a B+-lister than a D-lister, the names are bigger and the gossip juicier -- she has angered quite a few Hollywood princesses and also been banned from several talk shows (though the Griffin Veto was recently lifted at O'Brien's former late night show and "The Late Show with David Letterman"). Let's just say that while she and Whitney Houston won't be going out for club sodas anytime soon, other major stars and interviewers -- George Clooney, Howard Stern and Jerry Seinfeld, who wrote her a priceless letter, included here -- adore Griffin.

Now who can call that D-list?

The only time the zippy pace of Griffin's life story skids into a brick wall comes with her many, many, many, many e-mail exchanges with Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak, an admirer turned kinda-boyfriend, kinda briefly.

Though the two retain a friendship, and it's cute, initially, to read about Woz's fixation with getting hotel rooms with prime numbers (seriously) and his befuddlement about attending the Emmys, the 30-page chapter reads like an increasingly annoying Facebook page.

But Griffin redeems herself with a Q&A and a winking guide of suggested questions and topics for a reading group at the end of the tome that in tone alone summarize her persona.

When asked, "What do you say to those who think women aren't funny?", Griffin responds, "I know you're talking about Jerry Lewis, so I say, 'Bring it on, old man. And don't forget your meds. . . . Whoever says chicks aren't funny has not seen my aunt Irene on Christmas Eve with a few Tom Collins in her singing 'Danny Boy,' because that's some funny [stuff]."

Spoken like a woman who knows from funny.

Contact Melissa Ruggieri at (804) 649-6120 or .