In regards to The Chocolate Cat Caper, I was being a sarcastic ass. Which never comes out well in writing because no one gets to see the mischievous grin and slyly cocked eyebrow. If I inspired anyone to actually pick it up, I offer my deep and solemn apology. It is the worst book I’ve ever attempted to read. Have you ever picked up a book that was written so terribly that it blows your mind? A book you can’t believe actually made it through a publishing house and was sold in bookstores. A book so bad that you think, I could pull something better than this out of my untalented, inexperienced ass. *sigh* Again with the ass.
There is a small library at my workplace that I occasionally take books from. Pickings are slim, it’s clearly a collection of castaways from the residents. There are some occasional good ones though. Puzo’s The Godfather. Billy Bathgate. The Romantic by Barbara Gowdy. Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt. The Stephen King, John Grisham and Ken Follet stuff are quick and fun reads too though. Anyway, a while back I grabbed The Chocolate Cat Caper. I like Chocolate. I like cats. And who doesn’t love a good caper, right? So I stuck it out for a few chapters. I can’t exactly remember what I found so infuriating about it but I do recall that the vocabulary was simplistic and unbelievable, the dialogue was awkward and worst of all, it was boring. Just plain all-around bad writing.
But you know what? It was probably published because there is a market for Chocolate Cat Capers. Out of the hundreds of books there I actually picked it up and I seriously doubt I’m the target demographic. In our library, it was sitting on the shelf next to a book about a detective cat who solves crime. People love books with anthropomorphic cats.
You know I think my Xanga page jumped the shark with my owl post. Lately I haven’t been feeling all that into it. It’s because of the summer weather. You know what I thought when I saw the crowds of people outside the Michael Jackson trial a week or two ago? Nothing really deep about MJ, more along the lines of, “Whoa, look at how many overweight and obese people there are there! How could people living in a warm climate like California let themselves go like that?”. The perspective of a northern Canadian I suppose. You’ve got seize the two weeks of summer with gusto while it’s here! Get outside, run around, do stuff. and so forth. I’ve been making any little excuse to get outside as much as possible. My farmer’s tan is quite prominent.
My apartment is getting so messy because it’s too hot to move around much. I’ve just been throwing stuff anywhere. My bowl chair is half full of clothes. My plants are looking grim. Ehhh I guess it’s not that messy. Summer laziness.
You know what’s a good movie? War of the Roses. This is probably a top ten favorite movie of all-time and a top five comedy. Except I don’t really regard it as a comedy, more as a prophetic vision of what my future in 20 years will be like if I stay with Merle. There is no way that we will quietly go our separate ways. The only way our relationship can end will be in an earth-shaking, cataclysmic event, scorching the earth and leaving a big ugly crater. Merle, who is terrified that I’ll move to Thunder Bay and has offered to pay my rent in her parents house if I move to Boston in September. And I’m considering it because I know I would land a job there and I like Boston. But Merle would have me and I would be perpetually uncomfortable in that house. Her family likes me but is starting to get annoyed that I haven’t proposed yet. I know because her dad wants to give me the “why haven’t you married my daughter yet speech”. So, I would have that to look forward to. They’ll try and teach me French too because, “A Canadian who can’t speak French, such a shame.” Bleah. This was so much more articulate in my head. What right do I have to criticize Joanna Carl.
The Ancient Undergrad 
Tell them you’re in love with a girl in a yellow dress, like Curious George loved the man with the yellow hat, like Charlie Brown loved the litle red-haired girl
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Is the phrase “overweight and obese” not slightly redundant? You could, I suppose, take the coward’s way out and fake your own death, thereby avoiding any cataclysmic break-up.
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DAMMIT! You know, I’ve been trying to find a way to work the phrase “jumped the shark” into my Xanga since I saw the web page. You beat me to it! Now I can’t all in good conscience do it because then I’ll seem like a chocolate copy cat!Boston = bad idea. Vancouver = still good idea. AU getting together with girl in yellow dress = requested detailed xanga entries!RYC: You couldn’t be a worse neighbor than 71 second boy. I would actually like you as a neighbor. I could talk to you and beat your ass at Sega hockey!
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So then it was not so deep reading from the deep, dark, depths of someone’s ass. Great. It’s still better than being hunched over a copmuter reading and responding to Xanga’s of people you don’t know….hey wait a minu….
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yikes.. sounds like you don’t want to be with her, or rather you’re willing to be with her, but your heart isn’t in it but because it would be a catastrophic event should you go your separate ways, it’d be easier this way… or.. bah, sorry i shouldn’t be presumptuous.. even though i already was.. yeesh, that’s bad grammar isn’t it.. anyway that was also much more articulate in my head, but hope it all goes well!
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Oh, you. I enjoy your posts on so many levels.
Heh, I had no idea you were sarcastic about your book. I’m sorry it sucked. I believe you judged a book by its cover.
Sorry… I could’nt resist the cliche.
Can Xangas jump the shark? I suppose so, but yours has not. It’ll only go overboard when you start using annoying slang accompanied with dumb pictures.
Don’t propose to Merle.
And yes, Sammy is flying solo; I agree, Fred cramped his style.
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I will remember not to read that then.
hehe, I’ll bet my room right now is twice as messy. I’m in the middle of cleaning it…sort of.
I’ve heard Boston is awesomeness…but you shouldn’t marry if you don’t love her. War of the Roses….that is a scary scary thought! When I first saw it, I was in sixth grade…it gave serious misgivings about getting married at all. I couldn’t believe they actually died!
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for the love of all that is good and holy, do not do the Merle thing. if you do, make it clear that once you get a job and some money you’d be out on your own. just use it as an initial landing pad. as you said, “she’d have you.” you’d be her little bird in her own little gilded cage. she’d own you, and the whole parents being part of the equation makes it even worse. you’d have a ring on her finger and be at the altar before you knew what hit you; then you’d really be screwed. if you seemed happy with this person i’d say go for it–the family would be just a minor inconvenience–but that sounds like your own special little circle of hell waiting for you. i know the months after graduation can seem uncertain and a little desperate, but there is a better way. this ain’t it. o ye powerful double Scorpio, transcend this madness! (hee. sorry, now i’ll always have that in the back of my mind). seriously. i would hate to see this happen to you.
that thing with your grandpa’s place sounded totally awesome until you got to the snake part. i’m not afraid of bugs, even spiders–and we used to find the odd black widow in my home in Colorado growing up, but snakes? hell no.
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yeah, i must say i was a bit suprised to see the Chocolate Cat Caper. Sahara was one of the worst books i have ever read, and the movie wasnt much better. Angela’s Ashes was good. I think you should read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Johnathan Safran Foer. Or Stiff, by Mary Roach. Both excellent reads and i think you would like them both.I’m Candian and I hate French like a fat kid hates… spinach.
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You had a lot to say in this post. I love finding a good book that someone else has discarded. It makes it somehow a treasure, plus I love the smell of old books… there is an antiquie store here in town that has a book section. None of them are in any way glamourous or prized, but I love picking up the old poetry books, ones the no one really remembers the author, and leafing through them. I like the ones that have sertain lines underlined, because the little lines in someone’s life also tell a story. I love that. OK… that’s enough of that!
As far as Merle… you could jump into hell, but why would you want to?
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I meant “computer”, not “copmuter”. But that would be fun to create a definition for that new word…
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These were really good comments.
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