We saw the weirdest thing the other night: Waiting for the 6 train at Grand Central, there was this middle-aged woman — we'd describe her as, um, secretarial — with her face shoved in a book. That book? James Frey's vomit-soaked rehab memoir A Million Little Pieces.

We didn't quite believe what we saw; this woman was, after all, sporting a nicely teased helmet head and conservative Easy Spirit flats. She didn't really seem like the type who'd engage in recreational reading about crack-cocaine and "the fury." So we looked a little more closely, crazy subway-stalkers that we are, and upon further inspection it was all suddenly clear: This woman wasn't just reading A Million Little Pieces. She was reading the Oprah's Book Club copy of it.

Seriously, we can't wait until Oprah recommends some Hunter S. Thompson.

A Million Little Pieces