This will sound obnoxious as fuck, but w.e. I haz good brainz.Sometimes I really wish I didn't know anything.Most of the time I'm grateful, you know, for knowing that* rock stars detest travel; * that staying in a different hotel every night can be painfully disassociative and psychologically exhausting;* that most rock stars are—for whatever reason—very, very short;* and that there's no real money in pop music until you tour, which is hell, and takes two years if you're really popular, and usually doesn't leave you with 10 hours of your day free to wait for your hotel manager to join you in your richly-appointed suite to play video games until he's drunk enough for you to seduce him, but not too drunk to sign a seventy-page Non-Disclosure Agreement that prohibits him from posting your dick pictures to reddit.But sometimes I wish I didn't know any of that at all, so I could just sit back and let the pretty people in the pretty story walk around being pretty and saying glamorous things at one another.[two minutes later]Ooh, a Ramones tee! Cool!***Read my status updates and comments for more specific (and topical) criticism. I realize this review is not helpful, but I don't have any more calories to spare on it.To quote wise goodreads user Ann Marie: "What if I'd died while reading this shitty book?"