Blog of a Different Color

I have been getting over a cold recently, and as such have been mostly confined to my home for the past couple of weeks. It's been very lonely and suffocating. All I have right now are my books, the internet, the routine company of my husband and an occasional call or visit from a friend. I suppose it is not as bad as it sounds. As it is, I love my husband very much and would prefer no other company over his. My world has just gotten very small. This sounds very much like a sappy nineteenth century letter in a shitty paperback romance novel. So shall I shake it off? Yes, I guess I should.

I know I had promised to write, but I have become pretty dull lately. I wish I had a reader or two more to tell me what they want to hear about. Who they would like me to slander or otherwise tarnish. Or at the very least, challenge me to an online duel of rhetoric to the death. It makes my heart happy. One of my friends writes a blog of a different color. She writes to rid herself of the anger and negativity in her life. It sounds pretty cathartic and almost entirely like something I never would have thought of. Only an asshole of my caliber would dream up perpetuating her cynicism and jaded douche-baggary by immortalizing it. What would that even be called? A self-deprecating asshole with a superiority complex (a.k.a. "The Buffy Complex")? That sounds about right.

I am on my next book, though. I finished that stupid "Pride and Prejudice" addendum. Don't you just fucking hate it when a book spends two hundred pages describing the finer points of traveling Europe, while also teasing the reader with the notion of hot vampire sex, to have the books namesake and selling appeal become irrelevent in the last five pages? Yeah, I fucking hate that shit. I am glad to have finished it, though. Now I can be sure to tell everyone I ever meet for the rest of my life to never read it. It will be a challenge, I imagine. But there has to be some kind of karmic payoff for that shit. Now I am on the tedious "Dante's Club". I am not going to lie. I have started this book at least four different times. I have only made it to the fourth or fifth page. It's so boring. But I was always the kind of person to give up if it didn't captivate my attention right away. I am trying to not be that person now. I will get though it. In time. Blah.

Early Times+HDMI Cable=Big Screen Movie Magic Adventure

Watching Marble Hornets again on the big screen. It's amazing what you miss on a monitor. Lights out, big bowl of popcorn, best friends and shitty liquor makes for an amazing Saturday night. And yes, while everyone is watching the show I am here dear followers. Updating you on the mundane. My posts have gotten kind of lazy lately, haven't they? I will have to remedy that. If people have the decency to take the time out of their day to read this bullshit, the least I can do is put some lurve into it.

On a completely unrelated  note, I made another trip to Goodwill for books. I am almost done with one called, "Mr. Darcy, Vampyre". It's not by the same guy who wrote "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies"(which is fabulous by the by. You can't go wrong with ninja's, zombies and British period pieces) or "Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter" . But none the less, it's pretty entertaining. It's not a demanding read. It is, however, lush and descriptive in its portrait of the lives of the aristocracy of the time. It's almost mouth watering. The other two books I got were also period pieces. One is called "The Dante Club" and the other "Dark Angels". Maybe some of you are noticing a theme here. The short answer is "yes". The long answer is "go fuck yourself, I like what I like and half of North America can't even be bothered to read. Don't judge me, you arrogant asshole".  

So good night/morning/afternoon to the readers I have. I hope you have a pleasant Sunday. I will spend mine watching the season finale of True Blood with Matthew.

Goodwill, True Blood, Books and Creepy 90's Movies

For once I can say I am okay with Bill being in love with Sookie. I say this because he let Eric live. If they would have killed off Eric, I would have been done with the show. I don't want to commit to a show where my only choice is Bill "Messy Eater" Compton.

Matt and I went to Goodwill today. One of my favorite places on earth as they apparently don't know the value of a good book. That's a lucky thing for us book lovers. We can get them for 50 cents a pop. I don't know if I should be appalled or overjoyed. A little of both, I suppose. So I got a few.

Matt got some VHS's.  Total Recall, Happy Gilmore and What Women Want. So far, I am thoroughly creeped out by Total Recall. Even before his secret nanny love child, I found Schwarzenegger creepy. So to see his creepy gap toothed mug pop out of an even creepier middle aged woman was like a Nightmare literally popping out of another nightmare. No seriously. Watch the movie. He was inside this woman. What kind of bullshit was Ronald Shusett smoking? It doesn't help that the 1990's special effects are decidedly the most disturbing I have ever seen.

 Arnold Schwarzenegger is inside this woman.

All three of the books I bought are on "The New York Times Bestseller" list. Yeah, I said it. I don't give a fuck. Popular doesn't always mean it's totally shit. I am one of those people who judge books by their covers and I swear to god the people who choose the books on the list use marketing associates, color psychology and a gaggle of people in hard hats and lab coats to test the tactility. These fuckers are backed. Here they are:

Don't mind the boobs.

This one is about three middle aged southern women traveling down the Mississippi, Huck Finn style.

I am really interested in this one. I was raised Catholic and kind of fell out of it in my early teens. Apparently Garry Wills  ties in the history of the Catholic church with his explanation of his own beliefs and convictions.

 

This is the one I am really excited about. Telepathy, British period piece and a mysterious group of socialites called "The Order". It's a teen drama for adults. Right up my ally. 

 

I really love Goodwill books. I can tell these have never even been cracked. I could spend all day in there. The Vincennes Goodwill book section is getting no love. And no, that isn't an invite. Fuck off. It's mine. If I see you there I will chase you away toting the heaviest object in reach.