Lies That Chelsea Handler Told Me - Chelsea's Family, Friends [69]
—Chelsea
Chelsea instantly knew that the letter was written by me. She told her sister that nobody else would talk like that except Eva. “Doesn’t he recognize his own daughter’s handwriting?” she asked.
“It was typed,” Shana explained.
Chelsea sent me a text that read, Nice one. That was the only reaction she gave me. I actually think the whole thing made her want to promote me, and she might have, if there had been a position to promote me to.
I was glad the letter got a bit of a response from her, but it just proved to me that when it comes to pranks, Chelsea Handler can’t be beat. Even though Jo now knows the truth about my sex life, part of what Chelsea said stuck in his head. Every once in a while, when I don’t answer my phone, he thinks I’m at a homeless shelter picking out my next sex partner. Kevin and Brian still try to offer to let me “meet up” with one of their single lesbian friends. On top of that, Chelsea’s brother Roy still treats me like I’m mildly retarded. Last time I was at Chelsea’s pool, he handed me two inflatable arm bands and a rubber duckie and suggested I stay in the shallow end.
For the record: I am still not positive that Eva’s legs are made from real human parts, or that Eva herself is even human. She is a very strange duck, and her posture leaves a lot of room for improvement. She is a better person than I am, but that doesn’t really mean much. She is also a better daughter to my father than I am, but my father has sex on a regular basis with his cleaning lady. I would also like to point out that up until I met Eva, she wore blue eye shadow on her lids.
—Chelsea
This photo sums up my relationship with Eva perfectly. I look on with confusion when I see a boat headed straight for us in the Bahamas, as Eva smiles like a lunatic.
Chapter Ten
Lies and Other Things I Wish Were Lies
AMY MEYER
LIES
I would never lie; I willfully participate in a campaign of misinformation.
—FOX MULDER
Me; my mom, Kris; and Chelsea before her show in Kansas City.
I have known Chelsea, or “Handy,” for over four years, and it is no surprise to me that I was asked to weave a tale of her creative and sordid lies. Don’t get me wrong. Handy is sweet, generous, and loyal to a fault, but she loves to lie. Her delight over lying is woven through with a sweet slice of sadism. We love her without exactly knowing why. Well, on second thought, we could always chalk it up to Stockholm syndrome.
Being Chelsea’s stylist has afforded me the opportunity to be privy to many intimate moments of her life. Here are some that she has agreed to let me print.
Chelsea loved to lie to her ex-boyfriend Ted. I actually believe his sweet and loyal gullibility is the reason their relationship was extended by six months.
On more than one occasion, while Chelsea was getting her hair done for the show, I watched her pick up the phone, call Ted, and tell him that she had fallen down the stairs and broken her collarbone, lost hearing in one or both ears, or was pregnant with his child. On one occasion I witnessed her say she was pregnant while she had a margarita and cigarette in hand. Time and time again, Ted believed her; he believed the woman he was madly in love with was carrying his child. Why would anyone lie about that? Because they are a sick fuck, that’s why. Although if Chelsea ever carried a baby to full term, she would be a wonderful mother. Not only is she compassionate and protective, she incessantly spoils the ones she loves (in between lying to them).
Each time she attempted to convince Ted that he was going to be a silver-haired daddy, she would up the ante. On her initial attempt she was very serious and stressed out.
“Ted, I’m late. I just took a pregnancy test and it came out positive. I can’t even think straight, my hormones are all out of whack, and… I just ate Taco