A discussion of literature deteriorates into name calling. Doesn’t it always?
I’m slogging through “Sweet Tooth” for my book club. Sssssllllogggginnnnng through. That creative spelling is supposed to indicate extremely slow progress. As I’m reading, I’m thinking:
- I have like a hundred other books I’d rather be reading right now. Maybe I should quit buying books. Nah.
- My hair really needs to be cut. Can I afford highlights this month? And, yo, these eyebrows must be addressed. Soon.
- What am I going to get Boy 1 for his birthday next week? I mean, I just co-signed for a car. Isn’t my credit enough of a gift?
- So, it’s the Year of the Snake…wonder what that means…I was born in the Year of the Dog and I’m not sure what that means…but I like dogs…dogs are cool…my mom was Year of the Dragon which sounds pretty freaking awesome…you can’t beat Year of the Dragon, amiright?
- Will it ever be spring? Winter seems to be dragging on and on and on. Winter is the Energizer Bunny of seasons. I think I have Seasonal Affective Disorder.
- When are those damned Girl Scout cookies going to be delivered? I wonder if they’ve already been delivered and the boys ate them. I bet they did. They totally did. They ate my cookies. I hate them.
- Oh. My. Gah. Am I still not finished with this book?
In short, I’m not remotely enjoying this book. I will finish it, because it’s kind of an assignment. Also, the online reviews indicate there’s a twist at the end, and I’m almost there. Still, even with the most amazing of twists, this book will only be able to max out at three stars for me. On a scale of ten, I think.
So, as with most things that suck, I bitch about it. Like this:
Me: I’d rather clean the kitchen than read this stupid book, but I have to because it’s the book club book.
K: What’s it about?
Me: It’s like this spy story set in England in the ’70s, and the British CIA equivalent is channeling money to writers they think will write stuff that’s anti-communist and shit. Like, trying to influence public opinion through pop culture stuff. And the female operative falls in love with the author guy, but he doesn’t know what her job really is, and they “do it” a lot.
K: That actually sounds interesting.
Me: Yeah, but you’re a dude.
K: I’m not a douche. You’re a douche.
And that was the most entertainment provided by “Sweet Tooth” so far.