Saturday, August 8, 2009

sugar, oh, honey, honey

I'm walking through the grocery aisle pretty as you please, and I come across a little Sugar in the Raw. Does this not sound like a trashy romance novel?

I've never understood the concept of reading such ilk. Or is that "ick," hmmm? I mean, what's the point? Why would I want to trouble myself with this rubbish, if all it is going to do is get me all hot and bothered?

Granted there is nothing wrong with a little hot-and-bothered now and then, but the times I avail myself for leisure reading rarely coincide with the times my husband is accessible for a little romp in the hay. So why exactly should I subject myself to such trashy tripe, eh?

Have you ever tried to read some of this stuff? Everybody's all ripped and passionate and seething just lollygagging about from one scene to the next until it, ahem, climaxes to the part where they are ripping off each other's clothes. Pardon me, but if there are going to be clothes being ripped off a person, I prefer one of said persons to be me, and I really don't want to waste time reading about it. Puhleeze. 'Nuff said?

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