Viv Franklin spends her free time daydreaming of pirates marauding through her underdrawers while reading classics such as Loins of Endearment and The Wolf of Lust Street. When a great aunt Viv hasn’t seen since she was a child passes away and leaves Viv her estate (including stables/horses), Viv takes it as a sign that she is destined to live out her romance novel fantasies. I mean, horses = cowboys, right????
Upon arrival, Viv confirms there is indeed a “cowboy” who takes care of the animals and declares him to be “Beef. To the motherfucking. Cake.”. The description of him, however, was a bit more . . .
But Viv is oh so horny and can’t manage to turn off the bodice-ripping, heavy breathing, rolling in the hay images that fill her dreams. Especially when the only other available man in site is Clark, the local librarian/pain in the ass member of the historical society who wants to fight her tooth and nail when it comes to any updates to her dilapidated “historical” home. Little does Viv know this librarian has quite a bit more to offer than a stuffy personality and tweed jackets . . .
Follow along with Viv while she comes to the realization that . . .
“Who wants a Superman when you can have a Clark?”
After reading Wallbanger (which I originally gave 4 Stars, but bumped to 5 because it was a freaking riot and I might actually read it again sometime) I was pretty sure Alice Clayton’s romance novels would be winners for me. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut I am super cheap and no likey the idea of spending $8 on a book I will read in a couple of hours. Luckily I discovered the horny librarian collection up in the ‘burbs and Screwdrivered was just sitting there waiting for me to grab it up.
Clayton follows the same formula in this book that she did in the first of the series – girl meets boy/girl hates boy/girl friends boy/girl f*&^s boy. If your idea of a good time while reading a romance is non-stop bang sessions, Clayton’s stories probably aren’t for you. Her books have a little more plot, a lot more humor and she makes you wait until nearly the last minute for the big payoff. Speaking as a girl who is squicked out by the sexytimes a majority of the time, I will say Clayton makes it worth the wait. Especially when you think nice boys NEVER do anything naughty . . .
Warning to all – this is probably going to be long and rambly and fangirly and a waste of your time.
Let me begin by saying I have had a lifelong love affair with Saturday Night Live. I was lucky to be raised in a good ol’ Catholic family where the motto is “don’t stop have babies until God decides.” That meant the age difference between me and my aunt and youngest uncle created more of a sibling relationship . . . .
Some of my earliest memories were sleepovers at my Grandparents’ house. Once Grandma and Grandpa hit the hay I was allowed to stay up watching the Not Ready for Prime Time Players and stuff my face with the heavenly pies, subs and Italian beef sammiches churned out by the local Pizza House.
The success of SNL ebbed and flowed during the 80s, but by the time I was old enough to actually start getting the jokes it was in a groove with cast members such as Dana Carvey, Mike Myers, Phil Hartman, Dennis Miller, Jon Lovitz, Jan Hooks, Nora Dunn, Kevin Nealon, Al Franken, etc. As those actors began filtering out and into feature films (as the cycle of SNL fame tends to do), rumors once again started circulating that the show was doomed for failure – and for one season things looked particularly bleak. Those naysayers didn’t know what was about to hit them, though . . . .
Almost Interesting is the SNL story that I have been looking for FOREVER. While Tina Fey and Amy Poehler and Rachel Dratch’s books were all enjoyable, I wanted the inside scoop about SNL and now that I’ve read Spade’s book I’m fairly certain I needed the story surrounding this particular cast.
Every detail my stalkery curious little mind was interested in was covered – from scheduling, to working hours required to get this show to air, to payscale. We’re talking EV.ER.Y.THANG. But the best part had to be the stories behind the invention of unforgettable sketches - many featuring Farley being “amazing” (as the girls from LaLa Land would say) and Spade breaking the fourth wall by laughing his ass off . . . .
I was happy to see so much of this book serve as sort of a tribute to the legacy of who Spade nicknamed “Wisconsin Dundee.” The dynamic of their relationship was discussed in detail and stories surrounding some of Farley’s most memorable moments on film were provided . . . .
Critics might say this is Spade’s attempt to stay in the spotlight of his fallen friend, but to me it was more of a beautiful tribute to someone who was taken much too soon and cannot share these stories himself. As Spade himself says (speaking of a kinship he has with Dave Grohl):
“Both of the guys we were very close to got very famous quickly and then died, and we stuck around to field questions about them for the rest of our lives. It is an honor, but not an easy one sometimes.”
And then rain fell out of my face and I got super angry about it happening.
That’s not to say this book was only about SNL because it wasn’t. Almost Interesting was Spade’s life story from humble beginnings with a deadbeat dad, an overworked mom and his two brothers, to quite possibly the funniest losing-of-the-V-Card story I will ever read:
“She was wearing panties. Back in those days, this meant those serious mega-drawers. Like five inches of fabric on each side and about twenty in the dumper. And speaking of mega” . . . .
Yep. That happened. And when he finally hit paydirt????
“Kaboom! Feel the rain on your skin . . . song from The Hills.”
I laughed so hard I had to change my supersized underdrawers.
Bottom line is, if you’re a Spade fan, or a Farley fan, or an early 90s SNL fan, or someone who has spent so much time hanging out with Spade and Rock and Sandler and Schneider that you feel like they should send you a Christmas card, this might be the book for you. (Please note back in the 90s we weren’t politically correct and also that the author has made a habit of banging Playboy Playmates. Don’t come crying to me when Spade’s phrasing hurts your feelings.)
I know for a fact it isn’t really “5 Star” type of book, so I’m giving it 4.5 (while rounding up – Thanks Goodreads for your whole star rating system *wink*). There were a couple of chapters that seemed to be there for nothing but to bump the page count and there were LOTS of typographical/grammatical errors (and if I can spot them? They are GLARING). Those things did little to reduce my enjoyment, though, and I read this in one sitting. My friend Deanna picked up the audio version. I don’t do audiobooks and I love Spade so much I heard his voice the entire time and even managed to get his pacing down, but if you aren’t psycho like me the paper version might not go over quite as well.
(And in case you're wondering, this book made me want to have sex with him even more.)
Luckily they are pretty good at storytelling. Bob’s Burgers: Medium Rare features several tales by each of the kiddos.
Louise’s stories are full of adventure . . .
(If you didn’t know the correct answer to the above is “a butt” you might not be qualified to read this selection.)
and include a trip into a mysterious tunnel discovered in the restaurant’s basement, to a Wonder Wharf ride that may just interrupt the time/space continuum, to the search for ingredients to make the perfect burger of the day . . .
Tina’s erotic friend fictions include Tina utilizing a cloning machine that was invented for the science fair in order to make some back-up dancers for Jimmy Junior, Jungle Tina, Tina Bond and Tinablanca. Each of the above focus on the most important things in life . . .
Especially when they pretty much are example of what your own home does look like.
My friend Brea turned me on to this little beauty sitting on NetGalley as a “Read Now” selection. I’m not much for reading e-versions of comics, but Bob’s Burgers definitely deserved to be an exception to the rule.
ARC provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you, NetGalley! ...more
"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, 'Fear not: for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.' And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'"
Well, slap my ass and call me Sally. This was quite the pleasant surprise. I was well aware of Seth Grahame-Smith’s ability to make something old brand new again after falling in love with his spin on Pride and Prejudice, but to take on the religious right? Oooooooh shit! That’s just asking for a one-way ticket to Antarctica. Imagine my delight when I discovered a tale that was not blasphemous at all. Now, those at Fox News could probably still find PLENTY to bitch about, but they currently HAVE BIGGER PROBLEMS TO DEAL WITH (endless thanks to Arthur *wink*).
This story is pretty much what you might expect it to be . . .
“And when the Great Temple has been rebuilt. When the city of David has been overrun and the ruins of Judea born anew, the Messiah shall appear – born of a virgin in the town of Bethlehem.”
The twist comes in the form of the three wise men – or more specifically ONE wise man named Balthazar . . .
Balthazar had one M.O. – get the f*&^ outta dodge before his head ended up on the chopping block for being a thieving S.O.B. Unfortunately, a girl, her husband and . . . GOD’S baby (?!?!?!?!?!?!) slowed down his and his compatriots' progress. Balthazar might have a pretty shaky set of morals, but the one thing he can’t abide is baby killing so he GOES. TO WORK. on those suckas!!!!
Action/adventure novels aren’t typically my idea of a good time. I’m so glad the author’s name convinced me to read this one. Unholy Night kicked ALL of the ass so it earns every Star (even the one in the East). And when certain characters made their first appearances????
“Tell the emperor that Pontius Pilate is here to see him.”
“Kiss your mothers and fathers, your brothers and sisters. Tell them how much you love them, every day. Because every day is the last day. Every light casts a shadow. And only the gods know when the darkness will find us.”
^^^Those are words we all should live by.
Oh, one final weird tidbit. My buddy Ron 2.0 likes to create horrible little earworms as often as possible. Mine is probably not familiar to most, but I was singing the CRAP out of the Jesus Christ Superstar Soundtrack when I was doing housework this week. I'm one classy motherf*c ker ; )
Okay, so it might really only be Tuesday, but for Andi it is most definitely HUMP DAAAAAAAAAAY (or week even).
I requested this because some jerk who shall remain nameless likes to do drive-by shootings on reviews, leaving links to titles like these in her wake. Then said person somehow DOESN’T get approved for the book while I do. Probably because of karma. Even my husband was shocked when I told him what this was about. He was like “uhhhhhh, aren’t you like TOTALLY FUCKING a little too vanilla for that?!?!?!?!” And I was like . . .
That thing was awesome! I feel like I sweated out 10 pounds and even though it had a convenient pouch up front for me to store a roll of quarters it was impossible to access so I couldn’t buy myself treats from the vending machine while I was reading this on my break.
I’ll be the first to admit I am turrrrrrrible when it comes to the sexytimes books – but please believe me when I say I don’t actively seek them out in order to hate on them. Occasionally (*cough* Ugly Love *cough*) things work out well . . .
and I thought that might be the case with 4-Ever Theirs (I was even willing to ignore the flashing warning sign which was the use of text speak in the title). I also had to ignore the absolutely ridiculous and completely overplayed “girl almost gets raped and the only cure for what ails her is a massive amount of dong.” Dear Authors (especially women authors) – Using this trope is pretty much a dick move. Stop doing it. Gals like me have a limited amount of free time as it is. I just want to get to the splooshy stuff and stuff like this makes my ladybits go from . . .
But I digress. The basic synopsis is that Andi has lived with Cooper, Simon and Reed throughout college. It’s the week before graduation and Andi is ready to let her freak flag fly. After saving Andi from Bill Cosby rando strange at a sex club, Andi lets the boys in on her sexual bucketlist. Being the best roommates imaginable, the boys are 100% in and confess that they have all fantasized about the same thing. It’s hard not to when you live with a dreamgirl like Andi . . .
swordplay (just in case you were concerned because that isn’t your thing).
And there you have it. This gets 2 Stars (which from me on erotica is pretty damn decent) because of the aforementioned contrived drama which led to the sex happening in the first place and then for the sexytimes themselves. Right when I was …… uhhhhhh getting interested in my research project again something would happen to impede my progress. The use of the term “channel” has been discussed by me (and others) before. Not good imagery. Neither is the “back passage.” Seriously? And I don’t ever want my mouth to be devoured . . .
You better have received your approval for this too. Good Christ the things I let myself get talked into. Anyone got any nice oceanfront property in the middle of the Sahara they'd like to sell me?...more
Suicide Notes From Beautiful Girls was one of the pop-up recommendations on my library homepage. I had heard zilch about this book before requesting it and only did so because I liked the title. (Deep, I know.) Then I saw that sales pitch contained in the blurb and had the following reaction . . .
However, since I have no ability to not read a book once it is downloaded, I had no choice but to grin and bear it. And you know what? This was kinda like Gone Girl. Now if I were Jay Asher I’d probably want to kick someone’s ass for trivializing my suicide book (as contrived as I found it to be), but if you’re looking for YA with some mindf*&^ery this one might be a winner.
“Having secrets together makes you real friends. Secrets tie you together.”
Delia had plenty of secrets. Secrets about her boyfriend and her stepfather and her best friend June and maybe even June’s boyfriend. But all of those secrets died along with Delia . . .
June and Delia had drifted apart, as friends sometimes do. When June hears that Delia committed suicide she feels guilty for not answering Delia’s call. Guilt soon morphs into suspicion when she listens to the voice mail left by Delia right before her death and after she meets Delia’s ex-boyfriend. Did Delia really kill herself or was she murdered?
I was a little concerned when I guessed a potential major plot point at the 5% mark and then had it confirmed by 20% . . .
I also figured something more than that had to be up because there was too much book left and since I had read . . . . some another book (not Gone Girl) which shall remain nameless in order to avoid spoilage . . . . it was pretty easy to figure out the second twist in the story as well. Buuuuuuuuut, even though I saw most of the things coming, I didn’t see them all . . .
and I never wanted to stop turning pages. I would obviously ruin the fun if I told anything about the twists and turns the story took. All I’ll say is (a) I read a poopton of mystery/thrillers so when it comes to guessing what’s going to happen next I’m fairly good at it and (b) a lot can be forgiven if the author sticks the landing ending. I seriously dug the end of this one.
“Sometimes the kindest thing you can do for a person is to shield them from that which will not help them. Make the decision and then carry the burden yourself, bear that weight so that they don’t have to.” ...more
Sadly, Tear was about the most vapid waste of time I’ve spent in recent memory. HOWEVER, with that being said let me tell you this cost zero dollars and is so far the only Rachel Van Dyken I haven’t enjoyed. Okay, “enjoyed” might be a bit of an understatement. I had dabbled unsuccessfully in NA a bit before stumbling across The Consequence of Loving Colton. That book made me ask . . .
I’ve since read a couple other Van Dyken stories with nearly the same reaction, but this one? This was nothing but a baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad Twilight knock-off. Tear is the story of Natalee – 18 years old and never been kissed. All that changes when brothers (and members of the band One Direction AD2) Alec and Dimitri transfer “far away from their homeland” (*cough Canada cough*) to her school (in Oregon) and she experiences an “intense exchange” when one of them retrieves her fallen pen . . . .
It doesn’t take long for the other brother to single her out as well and then???? Well, what’s a girl to do? I mean really who could blame her? These fellas fell straight out of a Men At Work song – all 6’4” and full of muscle. They also apparently doused themselves in some form of pheromone-containing cologne “probably Abercrombie” (which must mean they smelled like baby prostitutes) and Natalee got all . . .
Now, I’m not opposed to stories with love triangles and I’m not even opposed to a bit of unhealthy obsession in my romance (I freely admit I enjoyed Twilight just fine). I do, however, have a BIG problem with the female lead going from not being allowed to wear make-up (by 100% absentee parents, no less) – to being allowed to sleep over at the rockstars’ house, to being unsure if she would be able to say NO when necessary because “every time I was in his arms I felt wanted.” Just no. Not to mention Brother 1 was a rapey über creep. In MY OPINION Natalee should have had a couple of dates with him until his true personality was exposed and then jumped ship into the arms of Brother 2 without all of the back-and-forth drama llama bullshit. Instead, the entire story had me saying . . .
Sorry Ms. Van Dyken that I had to 1 Star your book. Good news is I’m still anxiously awaiting the release of The Consequence of Seduction. Hopefully this didn’t put me on the naughty list. And just in case the big guy is reading this . . . .
However, it was me reading it, sooooooooo 2.5 Stars it is! This is the second book in the “Sons of San Clemente” series that I couldn’t help but one-clicking on NetGalley. Sadly neither of them worked for me (but this one was better than Wrecked). The main problem with this one was the abbreviated timeline.
Crushed read like it was on fast-forward. Con and Mia had ZERO relationship in high school (except thinking the other was hot). They go from running into each other on the beach 10 years after graduation, to running in to each other at a bar, to Mia declaring Con's simple touch on her arm as being “something to live for.”
I’d like to be able to say I think these women who get all fired up over something as stupid as someone brushing their thumb across their hand are idiots, but I’m pretty sure if Paul Walker did that to me I’d be a giant sploosh factory as well . . .
Anywho, I still don’t grasp the idea of sounding all fatal attraction and instalovey about FOR.EV.ER. just because you wanna do the dirty.
Okay, back on track. Said convo with the “inner goddess” about potential soulmatery is followed up by Mia shoving a “slut” aside and getting dry-humped on the wall outside a bar. You seriously gonna say the other chick who was just talking to dude is a slut????
Unfortunately, the clothes-on-sex is soon interrupted by a bad guy from Mia’s past. Now, I know I always opt to forget about the freaking DRUG LORD who is probably going to kill me if there’s a chance I can get banged real good. But dontcha know it, right when they’re getting – uhhhhhhhhh, sexy????
“You know I want to be buried deep inside of you, Mia. You can feel my dick trying to get through both our jeans.”
I guess once you’ve had protected sex one time it’s totally cool to bareback it from then on. Thank god, right? Those things are totes inconvenient when you want to have bathtub sex.
And then stuff and things happen and yada yada yada. This gets 2.5 Stars because the action scenes were pretty on point – it just needed more pages in order to properly develop the relationship between the MCs and I probably would have gone up to 3. I’m really not good at these types of books so take my opinion with a grain of salt. Want to tell me I’m wrong????? Here’s something I made special just for you . . .
Welcome to a big hot mess. Apparently everyone but me already knew about this book and read it months or years ago. I read it because it popped up on the pop-up “recommended to you” page I get when I log on to my library’s website and I liked the title. I’m real deep like that. I got a little sidetracked with dealing with buttholes real life, but when I finally got a chance to sit down and read this last night I didn’t put it down until the last page. When I got to work this morning, people noticed something was different about me. Normally I resemble something kinda like this . . .
but really it’s because of this story. Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe is a book with a bunch of award stickers on its cover. Generally that means I’ll hate it – but I always give those books a try because I assume the award people know what they’re talking about. (Spoiler alert: They don’t. Just check out some of the “winners” on GR.) Anywho, I avoided reading any reviews/looking at ratings and went in with low expectations.
What did I discover? Well, to begin with the first line of the blurb is stupid. The most “lyrical” thing about this novel is the title. There is no purple to be found within the pages of Aristotle and Dante - the prose is simple, the conversation minimal, the emotion palpable, the ideas grand . . . .
“Someday I’m going to discover all the secrets of the universe.”
“What are you going to do with all those secrets, Dante?”
“I’ll know what to do with them. Maybe change the world.”
This was one of the best coming of age stories I’ve ever read. The boys were actually BOYS who spoke like boys with smartass mouths like boys and occasionally broke the rules like boys and questioned their place in the world like boys. AND THE PARENTS WERE ACTUALLY PRESENT!!!! You know how rare that is in YA? Not only were they present, but they were functional (well, nearly). Things weren’t perfect and there was darkness that needed to be explained before there could be light, but there was love and really that’s pretty much the only requirement in order to raise children. Oh, and the characters WEREN’T WHITE. Another rarity! In 2015 we should really be over this being such a BFD, but sadly that isn’t the case. The timeframe being set to the wayback machine of 1987 also helped make me believe this story was really written for an old lady like me to partake in instead of just being a party crasher to something really meant for youngsters only.
When my husband got home from a meeting last night I was all . . .
Since I’m a person who rarely feels ANYTHING (except annoyance and anger), I’m recommending this to anybody who hasn’t read it yet. Every star. Although many of my friends have read this, credit is going to Matthew for sharing so much of himself with us on Goodreads and for simply being an awesome person who tells me when I really neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed a particular book. ...more
“Christmas is the season for miracles, you know. Sometimes they come big and loud, I guess – but I’ve never seen one of those. I think probably most miracles are a lot smaller, and sort of still, and so quiet, you could miss them. I didn’t miss this one.”
WTF have you done to me, Anna? Good grief. I had feelings two days in a row. My robot heart is obviously in need of a tune-up.
Orbiting Jupiter begins with Jack’s family making a very important decision – that of bringing a troubled foster child into their home. You then are introduced to Joseph – and your guts get ripped from your body instantaneously . . .
“Since he left Stone Mountain, he won’t wear anything orange. He won’t let anyone stand behind him. He won’t let anyone touch him. He won’t go into rooms that are too small. And he won’t eat canned peaches.”
Eventually you learn all of Joseph’s story, including not only how he ended up in juvie, but also how at 14 he became a father to a baby girl named Jupiter . . .
If you’re an adult, you probably will end up finding the ending more than a bit contrived . . . but this story wasn’t really written for grown-ups to begin with and it still won’t stop the onslaught of feelings you’ve had up to that point. If icewater runs in your veins like it does mine, you may not cry, but you might find you still need a bit of “moral support” to get through the rest of the evening . . . .
I fell in love with Gary Schmidt when I read Okay For Now (I read that before I wrote imaged up book reviews so Anna’s getting a double-whammy of linkage). I’m going to put it on record that I think he writes the most important middle-grade books that I’ve ever read and rather than “required” reading consisting of bullshit like Marie Antoinette: Serial Killer my kids (*cough* all kids *cough*) should be reading Schmidt’s books instead. He makes you think – he makes you feel – and he makes you see the not-so-pretty side of growing up . . . but he manages to do it in a child-friendly way....more
Barrier then takes us to Honduras where we are introduced to Oscar. I no habla Español, so it’s probably a good thing this was a pitcherbook and I could still figure out what was going on. Stuff like Coyotes need to learn a little about acceptance . . .
We get hints of Liddy’s past and that she’s willing to do anything in order to save her land.
Now, I’m no art aficionado, but I know what I like and I liked this okay. I especially appreciated the split screens showing what Liddy/Oscar were doing at various points in time. Spoiler alert: Oscar’s stuff went a lil’ sumthin’ like this . . .
(Do people seriously find him attractive? Really?????)
This was really good. I have excite for future volumes. I’m also seriously digging Vaughan continually coming out with kickass female leads after taking flak and being labeled a sexist with Y. Suck it, haters!
Many thanks to my pal Sam for putting this little nugget on my radar. Go read his review and give him a “like” – he even shares the link for you to get yourself a copy : ) ...more
The Haters is what happens when Wes, Corey and Ash (three teens who do indeed meet at band camp) decide to ditch those zeros and see if they can’t turn themselves into heros – of the music scene.
Wes and Corey have been buds for a long time. The main goal of their friendship? To find the “Unpoisonable Well” – music so good, so pure, so true that it can’t possibly be hated on (and also how many dick jokes they can make). As just a small child Wes thought he had found that groove . . . .
After a jam session at band camp with Ash, the two think maybe THEIR SOUND is it. When Ash asks them if they want to leave the camp and go play music, the fellas are in - which makes for the most memorable of road trips . . .
“Here’s the deal. Tonight I headbutted a guy in the face, yesterday I got out on a roof and had to deal with Corey going insane from drugs. I’ve also talked down a guy with a shotgun and cut open my hand on diseased highway glass. We’ve all made some sacrifices on this trip.”
Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for the threesome to figure out that their sound is pretty easy to hate on. Mainly because they are turrrrrrrible . . .
“We were an animal with three different kinds of legs. We were the soundtrack to a mental illness.”
Mad props to Jesse Andrews for even being brave enough to attempt a sophomore novel after the extraordinary success he had with Me and Earl and the Dying Girl. My enjoyment of this novel compared to the first was purely a byproduct of not being the target demographic. Good news is, I’m pretty sure if I could get my non-book loving teenager to give this one a shot he’d think it was the shizzle for rizzle (kids still say that, right?).
Still, it was a fun time and provided GREAT inspiration for what my commute playlist should be. Many thanks for picking new bands that even this old lady knows which made me feel like “a cool mom, not a regular mom.” If you are also a geezer and can't quite adjust your old ears to the sounds of some of the bands mentioned in this book (like My Chemical Romance or Vampire Weekend) there are also selections for the "easy listening" crowd like Band of Horses. (And in case you haven’t ever heard of them, Need to Breathe is a group of dudes who sound EXACTLY like Kings of Leon but probably won’t be super pussy crybabies who leave the stage at an OUTDOOR F-ING CONCERT because a pigeon dared to shit on them - #true story. They also sing "Christian Rock" and my heathen self finds it amusing that a song could be singing about love for the Baby Jesus or maybe about wanting to hit that super hot chick at da club.)
My friend Larry actually gets credit for putting this on my radar. He hasn’t read Earl yet. Oh Larry, you’ve got something awesome coming your way when you do : )
ARC provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you, NetGalley! ...more
Alright. Where was I? Oh yeah 1 Star ratings and being a bitch. Things I excel at. Here’s the deal. I’m an Evanovich fangirl. I read all her stuff and am quite aware that I probably don’t get any smarter while doing so. But there comes a time when enough is enough. I mean, do you REALLY need to put this bit of nothing out into the universe in order to get people to read the next book in the Fox and O’Hare series? I don’t think so. Even your most loyal fans might end up turning on you if you just spew out the same old stale stuff over and over again . . .
Unfortunately, she didn't take the advice of Fat Amy so the majority of her life has been spent scratching at imaginary bugs and other important things like looking for a lightbulb.
Jacob came to terms at an early age that there would be little to no chance of getting out and has always done what his daddy told him - even when those things were of the sort that would nag at his conscience for eternity . . . .
If given more time to mull it over, this might end up as a 3.5 or even 3 Star book for me. That's why I'm not giving myself more time to think it over. I started reading Where All Light Tends To Go with my morning coffee . . . and never put it down. At 260 pages with prose that really sucked me right in, it wasn't hard to finish this in one sitting.
That's not to say the story was perfect. Daddy ran an empire, but we were never really given any details about the operation. Jacob was assigned to supervise some serious tasks, but was pretty much incompetent with zero common sense. Various scenes were totally far-fetched or unnecessary and I thought 25 of the last 50 pages or so kinda shit the bed. However, it ended up redeeming itself, even if it wasn't with the kind of adrenaline rush of an ending I had been expecting on all along . . .
“I’m starting to believe that hell is everywhere.”
This was a bit of a pleasant surprise.
Amanda Verner’s family has always lived in mountain territory, but after a rough winter the previous year and the farmers all warning to prepare for an even worse one her father decides the family should relocate to the prairie. It is rumored that woods surround the area which will provide work for Pa in the form of furniture making and there's supposed to be plenty of abandoned cabins of former settlers who have moved on. While Amanda is not thrilled with the idea of moving, her plans of running away with the boy of her dreams didn’t pan out and she’s been left with a little souvenir . . . .
The family is thrilled to find out everything they have heard is true, and after passing up one cabin that was way too small discover a huge place to create their homestead. However, upon entering their new abode the Verners are struck with a horrible smell and the realization that something happened . . .
And swears he can get the place back in tip-top shape in no time. He also is positive the uhhhhhhh mess left by the previous inhabitants must have been due to them butchering an ox inside the joint. Because yeah, that sounds totally legit.
Anyway, then some stuff and things happens and Amanda learns a real tough lesson about . . . .
Daughters Unto Devils gets a bit of a bump in the rating department from me for daring to take risks. The “horror” niche in YA has gone from nearly nonexistent to laughable in its absurdity. This was pretty creepy and it definitely kept me turning pages. I can only imagine how this could make youngsters poop their drawers.
The only thing keeping my half star rounded down rather than up was all the talk of how Amanda had “prayed for this, oh my God, I prayed . . . .” to the point where I was making notes like “STFU YOU BROKEN RECORD!!!!” and wanted to . . . .
Ha! I kill me. In all seriousness, 3 Stars is a good rating for me and I definitely wouldn’t want to discourage anyone from reading this book.
So, about the book - Blue Hill Blood is the story of Henry, a man who experienced some serious fuckupedry as a child. In an effort to keep things spoiler free, I’ll just leave it with we’re talking . . . .
Unfortunately, Henry often suffers from writer’s block and finds the only cure is escaping to a tiny little hamlet which will provide inspiration for the characters in his books. That is how he comes to Blue Hill. While there, Henry meets someone who seems very familiar . . .
Sounds good, right? It was. This was a case of me being the problem. Here’s the deal: #1 - I knew what was happening. Now, there was a little sumthin’ sumthin’ near the end that I didn’t see coming, but for the most part I was right on track with where things were going. THE FOLLOWING IS AN ACTUAL SPOILER SO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK: (view spoiler)[Stephen King kinda sorta already did this (better) in The Dark Half(hide spoiler)], #2 – I never could make myself be “Team Henry.” Buuuuuuut, I didn’t actively dislike him either, and that is never a good thing for me, and #3 that cover - it looks like a really baaaaaad porno that I would have zero interest in reading (I know that's a shallow comment, but I am what I am and that's all that I am).
This was still quite the page-turner, though, and although I’m not positive of the exact page count, it was short so there was little to no lag time. If you like stuff that is dark and grimy, Blue Hill Blood should most definitely be added to your TBR. And to Elizabeth Gray, why don’t you get to writing Candace’s story? Thanks in advance.
Okay, now for a glimpse into the workings of Kelly and Mitchell’s bizarro brains. I think I’ve been spending too much time with Ron 2.0 because I keep getting songs stuck in my head whilst reading. Neverending loop for Blue Hill Blood?????
Good news is, I finished the series. Bad news is, I could totally give this 1 Star and not feel bad about it. However, since Ms. Fisher slipped me a literary roofie that made me feel compelled to read all three of these damn books she gets a bonus star. You know, what? Screw it. 1 Star. This was a waste . . .
I really didn’t enjoy any of these books except for The Opportunist. Rehashing the same story from a different character’s point of view gets tiring, and reading the same story a THIRD time? Someone stick a fork in my eyeballs for me.
So, what did I learn upon finishing Thief? Well, I confirmed there ain’t nothing as angsty as New Adult. I feel the only fitting way to explain the e – m – o – t – i – o – n in this final story is via musical giffery. The only way to describe Caleb and Olivia’s on again/off again love is . . .
Mmmmmm, that Usher. He sure has a good set of . . . . lungs on him, doesn’t he?
Now where was I? Oh yeah, the nothing happening. These two didn’t even bother making hang-up calls on each other. Instead, they drug their non-talking and miscommunicating on for TEN MOTHERF-ING YEARS, Caleb maybe fathered a baby (but made sure he did the right thing by completely abandoning it for years before a paternity test *eyeroll*), Olivia did the right thing by defending serial rapists and being “faithful” to her husband (*eyeroll*), I felt like I read 1,500 pages only to find out it was really less than 300, and in the end I was left with only one song I wanted to sing . . .
I’m going to steal a line from my pal Vivian: This story was like the TARDIS - soooooooooooooo much bigger on the inside and it made me as happy as Bill Cosby with a new scrip for Quaaludes giant hoagie . . .
Shelby turned me on to this . . . after Susan turned her on to it (and like eleventy-three of my other friends have already read it too). Apparently the trolls are right – it truly is just one big circle jerk around here : )
Don’t tar and feather me just yet. I’m actually one of you and have fangirled over CoHo in the past (see EXHIBIT A). In fact, the only story I didn’t like was Never Never and that was more because it was a serial (which I hate) and it didn’t have enough storyline in part one to keep me interested in obtaining a copy of part 2.
I didn’t like one diddly dang dong thing about Maybe Someday, though, and it began immediately with a tired trope that was just not cool with me . . .
Again, put the buckets of pig blood down. This tired trope has worked for me in the past (see EXHIBIT B ). It just has to be done the right way for me. THIS might be (and judging by the ratings obviously was) the right way for most everyone else.
When Sydney discovers her live-in boyfriend has been banging her bestie on the side, she finds herself jobless and homeless. Left out in the rain with nowhere to go, neighbor Ridge saves the day. Ridge and Sydney have been “communicating” via music through the courtyard for a bit, which has also given Ridge a front-row seat for the “extracurricular activities” Sydney’s significant other has been dabbling in on the side. He feels sorry for her so he (and his roommates) offer Sydney a place to stay. Soon Ridge discovers Sydney has a flair for writing song lyrics – something he has always done until a severe case of writer’s block kicked in. Working so closely together, it doesn’t take long for the two to realize they have an undeniable attraction to each other. But Ridge has a long-term girlfriend . . . .
Therein lies the rub. What exactly constitutes cheating? Well, as far as I’m concerned if I found my out my husband/boyfriend/whatever was spending his evenings lying in bed, making sweet, sweet music with another chick and due to . . . . reasons found it necessary to do things like wrap his arms around her or rest his hand across her heaving bosom in order to really “feeeeeeel” the music I’d probably react kinda like this . . .
But enough about that. Let’s move on to the other thing that ruined this book for me – the music. While I appreciate CoHo’s use of “mixed media” in her stories (especially in EXHIBIT C), it didn’t work for me this time around. The lyrics were super cheese-a-riffic and the whole idea really jumped the shark once I discovered there was a song entitled “Trouble” . . . .
I thought maybe it was just a case of needing the music rather than just reading the words so I took a couple of minutes to You Tube the songs themselves and hear what they sounded like. What I discovered? Nah, nah honey I’m good. I can definitely live without any of those on my iTunes playlist. (Please note I’m also a middle-aged woman who doesn’t like Adele. I should probably burn myself at the stake.) When I hear that songs are supposed to make me feely, they need to be feeeely. However, the feels I like to feel are things like anger : )
“Maybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano All I know is I love you too much to walk away though Come inside, pick up your bags off the sidewalk Don't you hear sincerity in my voice when I talk Told you this is my fault Look me in the eyeball Next time I'm pissed, I'll aim my fist at the drywall Next time? There won't be no next time! I apologize even though I know its lies I'm tired of the games I just want her back I know I'm a liar If she ever tries to fucking leave again Im'a tie her to the bed and set this house on fire.”
Yeah, I’m nuts. Don’t get it twisted that I think that is a “sexy” song, though, ‘cause it’s not. The video on the other hand . . .
The point I’m trying to make is that it stirs emotion and these songs didn’t. I don’t want to make with the sexy to whiny crybaby songs by Bieber (only Erica gets off on that). I want to do the dirty to The Weekend . . .
Bottom line is I hated this story (I know I was pretty vague up there so you might have had a hard time reading between the lines), but I’m still a fan of CoHo. Not every book works for every reader. Luckily at Goodreads you have the ability to read tons of different personal opinions (NONE of which are wrong). This one was already on your TBR? Definitely still read it. It wasn’t, but now you’re intrigued? Add it to the TBR. Hate that my opinion differs from yours and now you’re butthurt????
As a lover of all things D.U.F.F. (shaddup, Erica) and Easy A I thought my enjoyment of Firsts was nearly guaranteed. Guess that’s what I get for thinking, huh?
“At Milton High, I’m my own statistic. People fail to see the great equalizer, the one thing the band geeks, the drama nerds, the jocks, and the preppies all have in common. Me – Mercedes Ayres. The girl who took their virginity.”
Yep, Mercedes decided to do a little philanthropy work her Senior year of high school. Turns out many of the boys at Milton High had the same problem . . .
At first Mercedes was going to . . . . assist only five fellas, but she blew right past that and ended up with a list consisting of The Biter, The Nervous Giggler, The Screamer, The Watcher, The Preacher, The Dirty Talker, The Acrobat, The Crier, The Gamer, and Tommy Hudson. Ten is the hard limit for Mercedes, though. Well, at least it was going to be until Trevor Johnston came asking for help as well. And then the foreign exchange student. And Jeremy Roth. And The Bad Actor. Seems every boy in school has one thing on their mind . . .
And HERE is where I just lose my shit because WTF am I reading? It’s bad enough this girl is “deflowering” boys (WHO ALREADY HAVE GIRLFRIENDS!!!!!), but when all these randos start sniffing around her honeypot she doesn’t get suspicious at all how errrrryone knows she’s the gal who will respond when that hotline bling? And then? THEN someone fills her in on the big revelation that . . .
That’s the moment Mercedes gets all “rut roh, Raggy.” Seriously bitch? OF COURSE it’s going to get out. You can’t have sex with FIFTEEN other girls’ boyfriends at the SAME. DAMN. HIGH. SCHOOL. without it getting out. Dear Mercedes,
Of course, it all comes out in the end (even though anyone with half a working brain cell can see it from like page two) that Mercedes had a superbadawful happen that made her do what she did. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, there’s no reason to get therapy and deal with fixing her obviously severe mental problems relating to said superbadawful as long as she can continue blaming everything on her absentee mother . . .
I really dug The Opportunist and made the rare exception of placing Book #2 on my TBR because the storyline peaked my curiosity. I admittedly HATE books in a series and rarely read past the first. The reason? Because there is always SO. MUCH. FILLER. There’s hardly ever enough material to produce three (or more) books – especially in the romance/NA/erotica/whateveryouwanttocallthem genres. Buuuuuuuuut, when a book fairy gifts you a book in order for you to take the hit so she doesn’t have to, there’s kinda no choice but to read Book #2. Guess what I found out while reading it????
The Opportunist worked for me because #1 it was different (even with the tired trope of accident induced amnesia), #2 Olivia was an unlikable character, but you weren’t supposed to like her (at best she would end up as the lesser of two evils), and #3 Tarryn Fisher is bad at romance in the best way possible. I too am bad at romance, and that is why I want to spend hours braiding her raven locks love reading Ms. Fisher's stories. Sadly, Dirty Red was the book of filler and/or throw everything at the wall and see what might stick. There was the re-hashing of The Opportunist’s story, there were “twists” (*insert eyeroll*), there was the “character development” (I use that term in the loosest manner possible) of Big Red herself . . .
However, this book wasn’t necessary at all. Big Red was soooooo one dimensional that it became pretty clear even the author wasn’t that interested in her story. And Caleb? Nothing like getting to know someone deeper than surface level only to discover you want to smack that bitch . . .
“Nobody is really telling how old they are anymore. All we are knowing is that, before the war we are children and now we are not.”
First, I have to admit finishing this book on Veteran’s Day is some seriously f*&^%d up timing. Second, this is a story that is written in a type of “Pidgin English” – you’re either going to go with the flow of it or you’re going to hate it. Third, I thought this was a memoir. I had no idea it was written by a dude who grew up in America and went to Harvard. Sometimes it pays to know nearly nada before starting a book.
I came across Beasts of No Nation due to my non-book-reading-husband’s recommendation. He’s a movie buff/Netflix addict and had watched the film version a week or so ago. He also never tells me what I should read because he knows my TBR already extends to infinity and beyond. When he said this was a must read I knew I had to get it ASAP.
This is the story of Agu, the son of a teacher growing up in a West African village . . .
When word of war begins to spread, the villagers pack up their wives and daughters and send them to a refugee camp. It isn’t long before the rumors of war become a terrifying reality and the adult men, including Agu’s father, are forced to “dance” by the TAKA TAKA TAKA of the machine guns – leaving only the young boys behind . . .
“I am not saying many thing because I am knowing too many terrible thing to be saying to you. I am seeing more terrible thing than ten thousand men and I am doing more terrible thing than twenty thousand men. So, if I am saying these thing, then it will be making me to sadding too much . . . I am wanting to be happy in this life because of everything I am seeing. I am just wanting to be happy.”
Luckily it’s short. It took me three days to read it as is because I had to keep putting it away. I didn’t cry (since I have no soul), but it did mess with my head more than a little bit. It’s that powerful. It’s also a book that I think should be a required read in high school. Especially high schools of privileged children who will never have to worry about what is for dinner, where they will sleep, or wonder who will come crawling into their bed at night.
Now before I downward spiral myself into head-in-the-oven mode, let’s end on a good note . . .
Perfect Days had a ton of potential. I mean the very first chapter started off by explaining how medical student Teo has made besties for the resties with a fellow classmate named Gertrude. The only problem? Gertrude is the cadaver . . .
Ahhhh, quit being such a stiff! It’s not like they had the smexy relations.
The story goes on to show Teo meeting the female lead, Clarice, for the first time. The two exchange pleasantries at a party, Teo ummmmm acquires Clarice’s number and he sets his sights on making sure another meet-cute happens in the future. When Clarice isn’t appreciative of Teo’s advances, he realizes it’s just because she needs more time to get to know him. He’s nothing if not a real giver, so he arranges a romantic getaway for the two of them and refuses to take no for an answer . . . .
And here’s the part where I become kind of a butthole. I liked Teo and his tale of Perfect Days just fine – I just didn’t like like it. I mean, obviously I enjoy nutty stories and dark subject matter and I 100% saw the pitch-black humor that was contained within the pages of this book . . .
“On days when Clarice was in a bad mood, he avoided being around her. He suspected she might have some sort of bipolar disorder, that it was pathological.”
^^^^Hehehehe. That’s good stuff. Unfortunately, there was something missing in this one and I have to blame it on a man named Joe . . .
If you have already fallen in some form of creepy, deranged love with met Joe, you’ll totally understand. If you haven’t met Joe, you should make it a priority to do so ASAP. When writing about a despicable character and taboo subject matter, an author reaaaaaaally needs to be willing to go there. He or she has two options: (1) Write the most horrible person you can that your readers will love to hate (Brett Easton Ellis and Herman Koch are farkin’ EXPERTS at this) or (2) Write the most horrible person you can and make your readers fall in love with him (see Joe above and also Dexter). Whichever path is chosen, the plot HAS. TO. GO. THERE. There can be no pause, no break in momentum, the story simply has to be balls to the wall with crazy. Bottom line, as bizarre as it may sound, Perfect Days just didn’t go far enough for me.
ARC provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you, NetGalley!...more
"You feed me and I feed you and that’s what makes the world go round . . ."
The Coliseum. Man oh man. There are so few words. Luckily the interwebs are full of tons of pictures! Let me begin by recommending this charming little tale of prison life be read directly before a huge meal . . .
No, not really. In fact, I don’t recommend reading this at all. There’s a very exclusive section of society who would find this book enjoyable. They are known as Trudi and Mitchell.
Welcome to The Coliseum - the newest type of supermax prison. With the death penalty off the table, a group of lobbyists get approval for a former hockey arena to be . . . . renovated in order to keep the worst of the worst type of humans off the streets. Once you enter the Coliseum, it’s every man for himself. The guards are on the outside, the food is dropped from the sky. The only bright side is the neverending loop of that wonderful Huey Lewis and the News tune “Hip to be Square” . . .
There’s a lot of poop in this story. And entrails. So many entrails. As I stated right from the jump, this one isn’t for everybody. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, if you are of sound mind and rock-solid stomach, you should go for it. Ain’t nothing like discovering one of my favorite authors had an even darker persona than the one I’ve already experienced . . .
Before I begin this “review” – here’s a little Public Service Announcement for all you fine folks. While The Grownup had a publication date of yesterday – the story actually came out back in 2014 under the title What Do You Do? (Sidenote: New title is mucho better) which was contained in the short story collection Rogues. When I hopped over to the library website there were FIFTY people ahead of me for The Grownup. There were zero for Rogues. Ha! Take that stupids! This little experiment also proved (once again) that . . .
Now, on to the story. Don’t let my rating fool you – it’s because I fail at short stories, not because the story itself was a failure. The Grownup is the tale of a woman who had a pretty horrible childhood. Forced to panhandle by her lazy sloth of a mother, she took the first chance that came her way in order to escape. That chance came at a place called “Spiritual Palms” . . .
I’d answered an ad for a receptionist. It turned out “receptionist” meant “hooker.”
Like déjà vu all over again. No worries, my dear MC – it happens to the best of us.
It’s at Spirutal Palms where our leading lady makes a real name for herself – in the form of rubber-gloving-up and performing 23,456 handies over a three-year period . . .
Unfortunately, with that much repeated hand motion carpal tunnel syndrome was inevitable. Lucky for our MC she was also blessed with an ability to see auras which led to a job not in the sticky back room. That is where she meets Susan, a wealthy woman who is experiencing some difficulty adjusting to life in her renovated mansion, as well as with her stepson. The boy seems a little . . . off. Or maybe he’s just pubing out? I don’t know. I have a teenager and I’m always struggling to figure out if he’s possessed by a demon or simply hormonal . . .
Whatever the case may be, it’s Flynn so some twists and turns and stuff and things then ensue. And then? Well, then it ended. Dammit! I was just getting warmed up. But again, it’s Flynn. I have a feeling her response to my cries of wanting more of her story would be something like this . . .
I had actually been trying to score a copy of Pawnee: The Greatest Town in America for quite some time, but since my library hates me it still doesn’t have a copy. When I read the synopsis for Wigfield and saw the attached $2.00 price tag at my local Half Price Books I figured what the heck. After all . . .
and this book was almost guaranteed to contain all of the above.
Since this little diddy was written by the Strangers With Candy group of misfits, I also had a bonus of being fairly certain I would not hate it. And hate it I didn’t. I mean, you really can’t go wrong with a Stephen Colbert/Amy Sedaris combo. They’re both comedy geniuses and Sedaris also brings the sexy . . .
Wigfield is the story of – well, Wigfield. A tiny little hamlet nestled in the shadow of the Bulkwaller Dam. It’s the story of how a “town” banded together in order to save itself from eminent domain. It’s a story about the people . . .
It may not have been a real life-changer, but after reading a couple of “thinking” books my brain hurt and I needed a break. If satire is your idea of a good time and you have an extra couple of bucks burning a hole in your pocket the next time you’re at HPB, Wigfield might be a story for you too. ...more
"When Hell is full, the dead shall walk the Earth. I’m pretty sure it’s a quote from the Bible. Maybe not word for word, but something similar. And if not then it is definitely a quote from a George A. Romero film and - right now – those films should be our new Bible.”
You might think Rotting Dead F*cks to be yet another standard zombie fare. Things in the world were going along swimmingly when . . .
Zombie apocalypse. Per usual there’s no explanation why. Poop simply hit the fan. This is the story of several non-brain-nommers and their efforts to keep said brains un-nommed during the immediate aftermath of the zombie breakout. Of course, since this is a Matt Shaw story it takes things to a totally new level of discomfort. What begins with . . .
(Just replace that newspaper with a Kindle.)
Thar be triggers. Consider yourself warned.
If you can stomach the really-not-okay parts of the storyline, you’ll find yourself reading a real adrenaline rush of a novella. I read pretty fast, but this one left me cursing myself because there was no way for me to go faster, leaving me hyperventilating and nothing but a bundle of nerves ready to lash out at anyone who dared pull me away from my reading trance.
Good thing Shaw knows to keep his stuff short. He also continues to impress me with his horrifying brand of debauchery. Mitchell has already requested my assistance in making friendship bracelets for them to share . . .
“What happened was inevitable. Cops in LA saw it before with old Charlie Manson. Cops someplace else will see it again. You don’t need no FBI or profiler to tell you different. They left the road, son, and they got chewed up.”
Do you like a real slow burner of a book on cold days (kind of like the equivalent of a savory crockpot meal)? Yeah, apparently everyone else but me does too. What can I say? I have a short attention span and demand instant gratification.
Documentary filmmaker Kyle Freeman is down on his luck. He’s robbed Peter to pay Paul on his last couple of films and is in serious debt when a billionaire producer comes waving hundreds of thousands in his face. His assignment? Document the history of the Temple of the Last Days and obtain evidence on film that the paranormal activity rumored to surround the group is more than just a myth.
So what exactly is the Temple of the Last Days? Shelby said it made her think of a coven. My good Catholic upbringing made me think of the lovely nuns who taught kids like me so selflessly . . .
No, the other Jim Jones. You know, the guy whose followers all drank his Kool-Aid – kinda like what Shelby makes all of us loyal followers do here on GR ; )
Last Days started out being all about free love and damning the man and wild trips hippie style. But when Sister Katherine reached Thetan Level 7 things got a little f’d up. Like what will happen when Tom Cruise rules the world. All hail Xenu . . .
Kyle takes the project thinking it will be the easiest hundo thou he’s ever made – but it doesn’t take long before things start getting more than a bit sketchy. Unexplained deaths, possible apparitions, out-of-body experiences, and dog/squealing pig sounds? Y’all KNOW ain’t nothing good comes out of some squealing pig sounds . . .
EVERYONE loved this book. We’re talking Shelby and Sha and Eleven and Kimberly and Bill and Paul and a different Paul. I mean these are people who DIG horror stories and are experienced with reading things of the terrifying variety. When they said this was scary, I was expecting S.C.A.R.Y. . . .
(SIDENOTE: A majority teeny little part of me wishes my kids were little enough I could traumatize them for life with this snapchat app. Best cause for therapy ever.)
I don’t know what happened. Well, yeah I do. I read it wrong. Duh. But I refuse to take any accountability so I’m going to blame it on the timeframe – “six locations in three countries in eleven days.” This book should have been like taking a spin in an Indy car. Instead, it was like taking a spin with Ricky Bobby after his little breakdown . . .
However, with that begin said Last Days was pretty much what I hoped Night Film would be – just a titch spookier. No pointers on how to wrap your brain around my logic – just know that I didn’t like Night Film and I liked this one just aiiiiight compared to everyone else. *shrug*
“The world will end . . . not with a bang but with a whimper. The painful truth of the matter is a little different, though, ain’t it? Because the fact of the matter is that the world keeps on keeping on. We just ain’t in charge any more.”
Turns out while he was sleeping it off, the entire world was overran by the undead. Sure, there might have been a few warning signs of what was to come, but Deadpool had his priorities straight – like flipping the channel during the boring news and catching a marathon of the best television show ever created on T.V. Land instead . . .
Now Deadpool is the only superhero alive, and it’s up to him to save humankind . . . with fart jokes. I keeeeed – well, sorta. Along the way Deadpool will cross paths with various people and deal with . . .
And watch as the action builds to a crescendo . . . .
(That was supposed to be a “Blaze of Glory” gif – but it turns out I like this song better so if you don’t like it SUCK IT!)
I hate to admit when someone like Jeff is right, but since it’s only happened once so far in our friendship I’ll go ahead and give him credit. Deadpool is the bomb dot com and gets all the stars. Dear Deapool . . .