Home again, home again, jiggety-jog

So I'm back.

Here's the book update. Every Frat Boy Wants It . . . where to begin? If you could just read the sex scenes, it was sort of hot (a guy who wants to join a fraternity, sleeps his way through said fraternity). Unfortunately, the rest of it basically sucked; it tried to work in a love story and coming of age story, both of which seemed rather forced. If you want to read porn with a story, read Mike and Me and/or Mike and the Marines by Eric Boyd. Hot sex, better story.

Hornito. Odd, but interesting. I'm not sure if it was meant to be a memoir or not. Either way, worth a read. I'd like to check out other stuff that Mike Albo has done.

Mother Tongue by Bill Bryson. Amazing and interesting history of English as a language and how it arrived in its present state. Fascinating and answered a number of questions I had (why we have silent e, why the k in knight and knife aren't pronounced) and gave me some good trivia (the words tits and fart were both in use in Chaucer's time).

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Wonderful. For some reason, I had always thought of this as a young adult novel. Nope, not even close. More like Angela's Ashes. Wonderful, funny, amazing. I want to run out and read everything Betty Smith wrote.

Now I'm reading Cabal by Clive Barker (It was made into a really bad movie called Nightbreed). I've read most of Barker's work, but this one managed to slip by me. I love his style of writing and am always blown away by his books, plays, and short stories.

So that's that. On the non-reading front, the Lenten promises seem to be going fairly well. I've seen a lot of good theatre. Work has been busy but not horrible. Not much else to say.

Boring life. That's why I read so much.