Have y’all heard the news this week about how teenagers are distilling gel-based hand sanitizer to get drunk? We may be behind other countries in science scores, but our American ingenuity will keep us afloat! No need to worry about today’s youth! Resourceful, that group!
I just ran out of peach blossom scented hand sanitizer, rubber cement, AND tequila, so I’m painting the laundry room countertops for my daily fix. That’s right — Formica countertops. They make paint for that! One hour ago they were mauve, and now they’re black. Woohoo! I might be high, but how can anyone really tell?
I don’t think I ordered this magazine, but I keep getting Southern Living in the mail even though I DO NOT CARE ABOUT PLACES TO EAT IN CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA. I swear they run that story every month. No offense to Charleston — I’m sure it’s lovely. But I might as well be a million miles from there with no plans to go. Plus, if I do decide to vacation in Charleston, I’m not going to reference Southern Living because by now they’ve recommended every restaurant in the whole dang town.
Anyway, I skimmed the magazine, which held a short interview with Nicholas Sparks, author of The Notebook. I’ve never read any of his novels, but I saw the movie The Notebook. I disliked the whole film up until the end, at which point I cried so hard that I really HATED the movie. Another one of his novels, The Lucky One, is about to be released as a movie. The plot of The Lucky One came about like this: “I (Sparks) was struck with the idea of a soldier finding a woman’s photograph in the desert sand, regarding it as his lucky charm, and ultimately deciding to find that woman.”
The couple from The Notebook are in madly in love, despite his over abundance of facial hair. I couldn't make fun of The Lucky One because Zac Efron is too hot.
Sparks’ stories are about unlikely love, romance against all odds, and other nonsense. He likes to create Southern male characters “who, when they fall in love, feel it as deeply as the women.” Gag. He keeps it real by having main characters die all the time. It’s true that I haven’t read the books, but I’ve seen every sappy movie preview, and they all hint at impending doom. I just Wikipedia’d Sparks, and it says this: “He has 16 published novels, with elements including cancer, death, pirates, and love. Seven have been adapted to film, including Message in a Bottle, A Walk to Remember, The Notebook, and most recently The Lucky One.”
Wait, wait, wait….pirates?
Anyway, in today’s newspaper, I found the perfect idea for an even more realistic, fresh romance between two struggling, Southern youngsters trying to find their way in the world.
From the first sentence in the article “Robber took more than a purse” comes my throw-down challenge to Nicholas Sparks. Here is his new prompt: “Rogelio Belmonte and Kaitlin Edmonson were young and in love as they plotted break-ins and thefts to feed their crack cocaine and methamphetamine habits.” Seriously, that’s the opening sentence of the news article. I can already feel the romance, and I can only imagine the depth of their love.
Write, Nicholas, write like the wind. Make us feel their struggles, and help us understand their hopes and dreams. But you can leave out the part where Rogelio murdered that elderly woman. Blame that on pirates.
Back to painting, my friends. These toxic chemicals aren’t going to spread themselves.
Write, Nicholas, write like the wind! Ha!
A couple of weeks ago, the Spanish word of the day was an idiom meaning “Run! Run like the wind!” Only, literally? It translated as “Go! Go like a fart!” So now, whenever I hear a version of do something like the wind, in my mind I hear, “Va! Va como un pedo!” It makes all those phrases even funnier!
Hey, Tall Curly! Great entry! Let’s hear it for formica! We need to know about this paint for our own countertops. I had no idea! Meanwhile, we’re hooked on the new Kiefer Sutherland series “Touch”. It’s on tonight. It ain’t “The Notebook”, but there are plenty of sappy moments to go around each week–yikes…
Okay, the paint didn’t work that well–it went on like nail polish. Ask your wife, Bruce. You get one coat slightly wrong, and it will never be fixed. Oh well, it’s my laundry room.
Therese, thank you for the lovely idiom. I always look for an excuse to make fart jokes, and you have just provided another. Gas can be quite propellent.
“Touch,” I need to look into that. Maybe.
I don’t think I ordered this magazine, but I keep getting Southern Living in the mail even though I DO NOT CARE ABOUT PLACES TO EAT IN CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA. I swear they run that story every month. No offense to Charleston — I’m sure it’s lovely. But I might as well be a million miles from there with no plans to go. Plus, if I do decide to vacation in Charleston, I’m not going to reference Southern Living because by now they’ve recommended every restaurant in the whole dang town.
First off, I’m super bummed that the Formica paint didn’t work! Booo! Second, I would totally read a book that started out with that sentence.
Hello! The Formica paint kinda worked–my laundry room countertops didn’t have to be perfect, and anything was better than the mauve color. If you’ve got a situation like that, I’d recommend it.
You would read a meth-addict love story? Maybe it could be dark humor–like the characters’ teeth would disintegrate in each others’ mouths while they were French kissing.