Tuesday, February 13, 2007  

You know, about that dead rose...

Sometimes Valentine's Day can be so gooey sweet, so, so, so...you know what I mean.

And now, there's a book for that! A funny, charming, oh my god, did I just read that (yes, you did) book. May I present:

a sort of festivus for the rest of us kind of book. Or, if you are enjoying Valentine's Day (with friends, family, significant other, the dog), which I think you should, you will enjoy this book anyway because we have all been there at some time or another:

Fun stuff you might find:

(pg 326) Now you're gone, I'll eat oranges and grow my hair long- even though you said it doesn't suit me. I'll deliberately forget to wash the bath after me and I won;t call your mother on her birthday. Now that you're gone, I shall get a cat- you always disliked cats, that should have warned me about you from the start.

and this from pg 159:

Dear John:
I regret to inform you that you have been eliminated from the search for the position of Mr. Perfect. Please do not be discouraged in your efforts. The competition has been extremely strong and we have had to sift through many fine candidates.
There were however some specific reasons that came up during your trial run. Perhaps you might be interested in this feedback, which may be of use to you as you continue with your efforts.
1. Making love is not similar to going to the dentist in the sense that the sooner it's over, the better.
2. Occasionally women, even married ones,enjoy being taken out for dinner.
3. Leaving your dirty socks and underwear on the bedroom floor is not an attractive quality.
4. Likewise withe emission of bodily gasses-most unpleasant, especially if done under the bedcovers.
5. When you rent a vide on Friday night, it's polite to occasionally let your partner make the decision.
6. Next time you caress and cuddle and kiss that dog of yours, take a look in the mirror and ask yourself, "what's wrong with this picture?" On the other had, you and your pooch might make a lovely couple.
Good luck with your efforts in the future. Please pass on our condolences in advance to all your future partners. Last but not least, don't call us, wait for us to call you, which we probably won't.

Never yours,

Now why couldn't Anne Boleyn have thought of that?

Hell Hath No Fury by Anna Holmes

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