Just One of the Guys

I just finished reading Kristan Higgins’s Just One of the Guys and it won’t take any arm twisting for me to say that it was quite a page turner. Not only is it a story many young women could relate to, but is filled with moments when you stop laughing because you think you bust an organ and hope you get away with something minor like a busted spleen. The humor is witty the repertoire is engaging and the characters are too steamy for you to want to put the book down. It’s about the O’Neil family, specifically the O’Neil girl. She is the only girl of four handsome boys and an honorary O’Neil who just happens to be the love of her life. She’s tall, more like hulking and is simply a jock. The first time she gets in a dress her brothers say she looks like her older brother Lucky in drag. She is quite endearing, with a soft spot for her hideously pound-rescued dog with saggy jowls, yellows eyes and a bad case of drooling syndrome. I can’t even imagine myself loving a dog like that (though I did once have a cat ‘Rusty’ who’s eye got gouged when she was a kitten and for some reason the wound keeps getting infected). Her only girly attribute is a fear of ‘the twins’ blood and gore.She has a wacky love for The Lords of the Rings Trilogy and tends to spend her days in shorts and ratty LOTR t-shirts kicking ass at pool and watching the Yankees. Simply put, she is not the perfect specimen for the feminine female and with a name to put a dictator to tears, Chastity Virginia O’Neil. No one messes with the O’Neil girl unless they want to deal with the rest of the clan, three firefighters, a bomb detonator and a chopper paramedic who has the Medal of Honor. Needless to say things are very promising in the dating department and seem to blow up when her boyfriend dumps her saying she’s not attractive enough to which she replies that she carried his spindly freckled ass half a mile the day they went hiking and he got tired.

Here is one of the quotes I loved:

Maybe we can get together for drinks later on at the old watering hole where us journalists like tohang out.

That should be “where we journalists like to hang out,” Al, old buddy. ―I‘m…I don‘t… I can‘t hear properly. The Tooth has taken control of me.

Drinks it is, then, Alan says. “Awesome.”

Jesus. How did that thing get so gray? Doesn‘t Alan know his own tooth is rotting away in his mouth? Shouldn‘t it be pulled? It certainly should be capped. As Alan talks, the gray tooth blinks darkly, Alan‘s narrow lips moving around the words that I‘m ignoring, fascinated by the evil power of The Tooth. Like Tolkien‘s Ring, it has a hypnotic, undeniable power. One tooth to rule them, one tooth to find them, one tooth to bring them all, and in the darkness bite them.

In short, awesome read and I’m glad I picked it up

Racist Food

Its been a week since the John Mayer frenzy and one day since the condemning post regarding said record artist, i'm listening to a track that says "here, they come to snuff the rooster" yup Alice N Chains. I'm not sure if that's a step up or down the hallway of no return, but i think i'm liking the mood. After all, six hours ago i was listening to Johnny boy sing about dancing in a burning room.

Now, getting on to the the topic at hand which certainly isn't my taste for morbid lyrics. I'd say is funny how companies tend to have certain racist tendencies regarding naming merchandising if only it really were funny. Introducing the negro biscuit. The prime rib to this mess-up feast; Eti's choco/vanilla biscuits are called -yup you guessed right- 'Negro'. 

Well, it is a chocolate cookie after all, and a black one at that. I can't help but roll my eyes at that. Hasn't anyone noticed these racist cookies of doom? And i don't mean those extra fleshy pounds on my ass kinda doom at that, i mean a totally different kind of doom. I've known about them since i was about ten. Other sold foodstuff that had been in the market for a long timer have been pulled out and renamed and i'm talking about a country that just happens to be in the sinking hellhole located exactly in the middle of war and nowhere. Particularly, a really good chocolate bar; im not sure if it qualifies as a bar if not a ball -haha get it? chocolate ball?get it? -that had a name that literally translates as "Head of the slave" or 'Ras i 3abed' in Arabic. I think one or two years ago the Lebanese company 'Ghandour' changed the name to 'Tarboush Ghandour' or 'Ghandour's Hat' where tarboush is a kind of Lebanese traditional head-wear that people normal in the head no longer wear, and by that i don't mean in the physical sense but more of the mental health sense.

Sadly, other companies did not follow suit or restrict themselves to teaching kids how to eat Negro cookies and Slave heads, they decided to teach household wives the proper way to deal with a slave's head. That is to clean pans with Negro Steel Wool; its name helpfully being translated to 'Seef il 3abed' in arabic on the packet or translated to 'Slave's Steel Wool' the darn thing simply states 'Negro' on the darn package. 

I'm sure the list of racist offences do not stop here and we sure are bringing up our children around a lot of social baggage and hate.I'm not sure the rest of the world would be able to bring their ideals up to date.Name editing should be a simple enough task if we want to make sure our kids don't grow up like a special version of hicks. Funny that, Lebanese hick version 1.0

    

Diluted Passions

It’s been a while since i did this and i am not sure it’s a good or bad thing. The things that i am passionate about could be counted on one hand, two of which are music and reading and they often come hand in hand. I have developed this passion for John Mayer music. 

I'm trying my best not to look up what he did/is doing in his life i hear it's not quite pleasant. I'm taking a break from reading a fiction novel by Caitlin Kittredge called Street Magic. It's part of the Black London series and not a bad one at that. Though i think I’m only giving it the time a day because i just finished the Nocturne City five volume series and it was completely worth the three days i spent on it. The protagonist in this series seems a bit more diluted even with the brit humor and cussing. I guess for a non-brit, it’s hard to keep a smile from creeping onto your face when the words "wanker" and "tit" are used as casual cuss or exclamation remarks. Hmm i guess I’m getting sort of used to watered-down brit humor. 

I’m quite hooked on the song "Edge of Desire" it’s simply heartfelt and perfect for the times you feel you just want someone to shut up and hold you no strings attached. I was listening to that same playlist two and a half hours ago while i was making my coffee-flavored custard. It's a pretty nifty idea to layer your pan with layers of chocolate cake and top it with coffee custard. Yup i made the custard and then ate a damn apple instead.