How Poppers Destroyed My Life By Valerie Bertinelli

Read about Valerie's nightmare struggle with... Poppers!

How desperate for something to read would you have to be to buy Valerie's book? The excerpt was the corniest thing I've ever read, and Valerie is beyond corny.

I don't know if I can even think of a word to accurately describe her. She gives me chills of embarrassment for how corny she is.

Excerpt from "Losin'It" (even the title of her boring book is corny)

"In this book, you won't find me professing to have all the answers to life's problems. (OH!!! Because that's why I was going to read it, to try to gain insight into some of your all powerful wisdom.)
"Hey, I'm still trying to figure out most of those. Instead this story is about the choices I've made, good and bad, and how I've grown and learned from them. There are also exciting times,(Oh, I'll bet, what are they?") emotional moments, and life as it happened. Through it all, you'll get me uncensored and unfiltered—the good,(marrying Eddie-best thing that ever happened to you or you would have been long forgotten!) bad,(naming your son Wolfie) stupid,(posing on the cover of TV guide in your underwear) stubborn.
(No thanks. Not interested.)
"Some people measure depression by the medication they take or the number of times per week they see a therapist. For me, it was different. I measured my depression with baked jalapeño-and-cheddar-cheese poppers, the brand that advertises itself with the slogan "Bring home the fun."
"I'd love to meet the person who came up with that line and ask him a question. Is it really fun to see yourself blow up three dress sizes? (Oh hahahaha!!! LIKE HE TOLD YOU TO EAT A BOX EVERY NIGHT YOU FAT FREAK)

"I suppose they wouldn't sell as many if their slogan was "Pack on the pounds." On the other hand, they may do OK with a promotion that said "Forget your ex-husband" or "Eat these instead of having sex—since nobody wants to see your fat bare ass." (Oh wow you are really clever and funny, you should be an ad exec! I bet Poppers will want you for their spokeswoman now, just like Jared with Subway)

"During the cold winter months of 2002–03, when I was making Touched by an Angel in Utah, those jalapeño-and-cheese poppers were my Prozac. I was on a significant dosage: at least a box a night and sometimes more. At the grocery store, I saw other women looking at me when I loaded the boxes into my cart from the frozen food case. I could almost hear them thinking Oh my gosh that's Valerie Bertinelli. And look: she's on those jalapeño poppers."(get over yourself, like everyone knows who you are)

It was true. There were nights when I OD'd on those poppers. "My mouth burned because I couldn't wait for them to cool down after taking them out of the oven. Other times I savored the taste with tiny, almost sensual bites, drawing out the feeling of comfort and escape I got from eating. The bright smile (OKAY enough!! Your "bright smile?" God you make me sick) that served me well for so many years went into storage. So did my size 8 jeans. And my 10s. And my 12s.(and your 14, 16 and 18's) And my—well, my weight soared past 170 pounds, the highest it had ever been outside of my pregnancy."

Wolfie is three times the size of Eddie, yet Valerie claims "Wolf is my priority." It sounds to me like Poppers were.

About Living a Lie

"Those were some of the darkest days of my life, and I was eating my way through them.

By 2001 my marriage to Eddie Van Halen was over after more than twenty years of competing with his rock-and-roll lifestyle for attention. Our fights about his drinking had taken a toll. Discussing and solving our problems used to bring us closer, but now it wore us out. Ultimately, when he failed to help himself by giving up cigarettes after mouth cancer had threatened his life, I knew, sadly, that one way or another I was going to end up on my own.
"By then I was working and living in Utah eight months of the year. Full of anger and frustration, I spent at least three nights a week on a plane so I could see our ten-year-old son, Wolfie, who stayed home in Los Angeles to be in school with his friends. That wasn't the way I wanted to live or the type of person I wanted to be. But instead of helping myself, I did the opposite. I ate my misery and turned my misery into a reason for eating."

Overweight, alone, and horribly depressed, I kept eating poppers and everything else in my path. After Touched went off the air, I returned home and became a hermit. (Now THAT was the best thing you ever did!) I hid from the world, hoping no one would see that I'd gotten fat. In reality, I was hiding from the one person who could help solve my problems: me.
Wolfie is real fat with acne

I've never seen so many lame prop poses in all my life

Oh this was a good idea

By any standard, I've enjoyed a charmed life. Even though I gained notoriety by working on TV, I shunned the spotlight in favor of a normal life, driving carpools, volunteering in my son's classroom, making dinner, (making Poppers) and trying never to miss my monthly book club get-togethers.(Oh god you're boring) Of all the roles I've undertaken, none has been more satisfying than motherhood. I'm as much of a regular gal (Okay please go away.. far away) as people seem to expect—and I like it that way.
Great! Now GO AWAY
If you walked into my house right now, you'd find my cat Dexter lounging on the sunny floor in the kitchen, a large bowl of fruit on the counter, delicious-smelling vegetable soup simmering in a tall pot on the stove, the recycling trash can ready to be emptied, and paperwork and schoolbooks spread across the dining room table. You'd also see my boyfriend (Who says "my boyfriend" when you're 47 years old. GET A LIFE)

Tom (who was convicted of domestic assault three times and went to prison!)
on the phone in the backroom,(talking to some phone sex chicks because you are boring him to death)
and me working the crossword puzzle, AS IS my daily routine. (YOUR. ROUTINE.) Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!
I love how your BOYFRIEND stands!

I like where you go! The premiere of Ratatouille !

Bertinelli, discussing Eddie's mouth cancer, tells Ladies' Home Journal: "The guy has mouth cancer, gets part of his tongue cut out, and he still insists cigarettes have nothing to do with it."
How sick to call your husband "THE GUY." Like you're SO COOL!
P.S.S. Stop talking about "Touched By an Angel', no one remembers it. It was corny like you, and it is stale like you too. In fact, just quit talking now. You're boring beyond belief. Thanks.