I’m not even done with the book yet and I want to give a crappy review to it. Why do I keep reading it? I don’t know. I just keep thinkging that at some point it will get better and things will be clearer to me. There was an improvement at one point, and I thought I was right, but then we went into that whole “what the hell is this all about” thing again.
I’m not giving the title because I don’t want people to know I’m reading a crappy <whisper> romance novel, </whisper> but I’m working my way through the pile of books by the bed and this was next on the list.
So anyway, look, it’s not mysterious if nobody can figure out what the hell is going on. I’m your audience. Do me a favor and not alienate me, ‘kay? I think it’s just a bit worse than the book with the crocheted underwear. That was amusing. This is annoying.
p.s Junior rode his bike again today. We should have snow by Tuesday.