Doug Stanhope has been drunkenly stumbling down the back roads and dark alleys of stand-up comedy for over a quarter of a century, roads laden with dank bars, prostitutes, cheap drugs, farm animals, evil dwarfs, public nudity, menacing third-world police, psychotic breaks, sex offenders, and some understandable suicides. You know, just for levity.

While other comedians were seeking fame, Stanhope was seeking immediate gratification, dark spectacle, or sometimes just his pants. Not to say he hasn't rubbed elbows with fame. He's crashed its party, snorted its coke, and jumped into its pool naked, literally and often repeatedly--all while artfully dodging fame himself.

In This Is Not Fame, Doug spares no legally permissible detail, and his stories couldn't be told any other way. They're weird, uncomfortable, gross, disturbing, and fucking funny. By no means a story of overcoming a life of excess, immorality, and reckless buffoonery, this is an outright celebration of it. For Stanhope, the party goes on.