Hi there, ladies and gents. Well, not that I'm getting or keeping much in the way of readership, I feel sure. Anyway, things have been a little rough around here since my grandmother passed away. I've mostly been busy with work and my friends dragging me places. We've had some interesting cases come through work, not that I can really talk about them. HIPAA compliance and all of that.
Chelsea, one of the other RNs, dragged me to see a "psychic" the other day, for Halloween, supposedly. Apparently I'm going to meet a "tall, dark, and mysterious man who will change my world forever" before the year is out... Ooooooh.
How cliche can you get. Oddly enough though, she sounded slightly spooked when she said it. Personally, I think it's a load bullshit, but Chelsea was swooning like a complete ninny. I love the girl, but I'm not sure how she made it through nursing school sometimes.
I'll try to get around to doing another book soon, but I just haven't been in the right place to do something like that over the last month.
So, that's me for the moment.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Quotes 2: Electric Boogaloo
I haven't been able to get around to another book, but here are some quotes for your perusal.
"Shit, now her panties were damp. She pressed her thighs together, hoping the smell would stay buried between her thighs."
"The hot pool in her woman place turned scalding with heat, and that secret spot she'd newly discovered under the feather's duress seemed to swell and throb."
"Ethel would frig a bull or a goat, and when milking a favorite cow, would suddenly persuade Frank to lift her in his arms, where she would lay extended on her back, and raising her clothes, would frig herself with the cow's teats, the milk from which would flow into her ravenous cunt to be afterwards sucked out by her brother."
"His twigs now cut finely into your bum at each stroke, making long red marks, and a deep rosy tint all over each cheek of your buttocks"
"Cynthia had made him feel like a lusting piece of meat; most of the others he'd ever been with had made him feel like he was in some kind of unknown competition, with them as the judges, using a scoring system he'd never known about."
"And you, Wife, do you not long to feel the thick and lengthy peg throbbing within you?"
"'You're asking yourself, 'Did he come six times or only five?' Well, to tell you the truth, Ma'am, in all this excitement, I kinda lost track myself. But being this is a massive, full-Djinn positor, the most powerful penis in All the Communicating Worlds... and would blow your mind with ecstasy, you've got to ask yourself a question. 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do you, Ma'am?"
"There is something deeply erotic about a woman who mutters sweet nothings of the eep caliber into the chin of her partner."
"He could have made the ingredients on a cereal packet sound like an indecent proposition."
"I asked for a haunch of venison and a jug of whiskey, not a bloody woman."
"He stroked with his finger where Nora knew no bunnies frolicked, and she jerked violently."
"And her ovaries weren't just quivering, they were doing the rock-a-hula -- with full Elvis accompaniment."
"Then his control shattered, and the surge of his own climax gripped him in a mighty fist and pounded him into a bloody pulp."
"Her insides popped and sizzled like a sap-covered log in the fire."
"She flung back her head and clung to his shoulders as he entered her. 'I'm flying,' she managed to gasp as she felt herself hurtled into space."
"His eyes were dark gold staring down at her with a latent sensuality that had her womb spasming and her sex creaming furiously."
"She didn't really know what she'd expected, but it wasn't this warm, silky stalk, thick as a tree limb and throbbing with life."
"She felt him nuzzle her pubic hair and caught her breath.
'Breakfast of champions,' he murmured inexplicably."
"Shit, now her panties were damp. She pressed her thighs together, hoping the smell would stay buried between her thighs."
"The hot pool in her woman place turned scalding with heat, and that secret spot she'd newly discovered under the feather's duress seemed to swell and throb."
"Ethel would frig a bull or a goat, and when milking a favorite cow, would suddenly persuade Frank to lift her in his arms, where she would lay extended on her back, and raising her clothes, would frig herself with the cow's teats, the milk from which would flow into her ravenous cunt to be afterwards sucked out by her brother."
"His twigs now cut finely into your bum at each stroke, making long red marks, and a deep rosy tint all over each cheek of your buttocks"
"Cynthia had made him feel like a lusting piece of meat; most of the others he'd ever been with had made him feel like he was in some kind of unknown competition, with them as the judges, using a scoring system he'd never known about."
"And you, Wife, do you not long to feel the thick and lengthy peg throbbing within you?"
"'You're asking yourself, 'Did he come six times or only five?' Well, to tell you the truth, Ma'am, in all this excitement, I kinda lost track myself. But being this is a massive, full-Djinn positor, the most powerful penis in All the Communicating Worlds... and would blow your mind with ecstasy, you've got to ask yourself a question. 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do you, Ma'am?"
"There is something deeply erotic about a woman who mutters sweet nothings of the eep caliber into the chin of her partner."
"He could have made the ingredients on a cereal packet sound like an indecent proposition."
"I asked for a haunch of venison and a jug of whiskey, not a bloody woman."
"He stroked with his finger where Nora knew no bunnies frolicked, and she jerked violently."
"And her ovaries weren't just quivering, they were doing the rock-a-hula -- with full Elvis accompaniment."
"Then his control shattered, and the surge of his own climax gripped him in a mighty fist and pounded him into a bloody pulp."
"Her insides popped and sizzled like a sap-covered log in the fire."
"She flung back her head and clung to his shoulders as he entered her. 'I'm flying,' she managed to gasp as she felt herself hurtled into space."
"His eyes were dark gold staring down at her with a latent sensuality that had her womb spasming and her sex creaming furiously."
"She didn't really know what she'd expected, but it wasn't this warm, silky stalk, thick as a tree limb and throbbing with life."
"She felt him nuzzle her pubic hair and caught her breath.
'Breakfast of champions,' he murmured inexplicably."
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Sorry!
I'm so-so-so sorry for not updating in so long. My grandmother's terribly ill, and I've had to fly down to Virginia to stay with her, along with various cousins and such. I'll work on the next review over the next few days, depending on how things go. It could very well be a good thing to take my mind off of the air of morbid dread over the house currently, though I'd have to hide away somewhere to get any reading done, or go to a hotel. This house was not made for six or seven people to live in for any amount of time, by any means. Anyway, I just thought I'd apologize.
If nothing else, I'll compile a quotes post within a day or so for you lot's amusement.
If nothing else, I'll compile a quotes post within a day or so for you lot's amusement.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Round One
Well here we are, ladies and gents, the first up to the chopping block.
Dun-na-na-na... One top-heavy dude with a sword, and an allierative title. Yay. It’s amazing how many covers of romance novels have a top-heavy man who seems to have trouble finding buttons for his shirts and a teeny woamn. Not that I have anything against tall, well-built guys, but really?
It is the year 999, which the book claims that were “the days of old where men were…whatever…”
No, really. The book doesn’t care enough to make something up. That's the start we're getting off to, people.
Don't worry, though... We’re introduced to Magnus Ericsson, a man who is about as far from being “whatever” as you can imagine! He has four favorite things, including farming and farming-related euphemisms.
Unfortunately, plowing all those fields leads to ten little vikings all in a row, from nearly as many mothers, calling him Faðir day in and day out. Thank the gods that a few of them died, otherwise he’d have more! As an example; His newest daughter has been sent to him via merchant ship, and he tries to send her back. More to the point, he spends approximately FIVE PAGES attempting to do so.
So. What do we know so far? Magnus has three flaws. He can't keep it in his pants, he can get a chick pregnant at twenty paces... Oh, and he has big ears that he hides under his hair. What a travesty, that last one.
So we skip forward to 2003 to meet the lovely Angela Abruzzi, the female half of our protagonist duo. She's got a BMW, has a family vineyard called The Blue Dragon, and has both coal-black hair and coal-black eyes. Wow. I haven't seen that kind of description since my bad fanfic days... I mean my days of reading bad fanfic, of course.
Grandma Rose, though? I love Grandma Rose. She’s a snarky old woman with the faded overalls and tank top and mud-caked sneakers. She tops off that ensemble with an eighteen-carat-gold cigarette holder. I like her already. Well, other than the fact that she apparently has prayers powerful enough to pull our Viking forward in time over a thousand years. I'm calling it now. Grandma Rose is actually an elderly Haruhi Suzumiya.
All in all, the book is apparently supposed to be amusing on some level, but it reads like someone was intentionally trying to write the most cliched, telegraphed plot ever. There are a few amusing things to note, but one disturbing bit is the fact that early on, this happens:
"After a surprised squeal of dismay at his quick maneuver, she squirmed and shoved and tried to escape his embrace. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Thanking you. I told you that I wanted to thank you for bringing me here, and this is what I am doing.”"
Hold the fucking phone. No means no, buddy, and I don't care how "virile" you are. And Angela, what are you doing? Fight harder. You've already been stuck in one abusive marriage. Just because he's complimenting you don't mean you should... Oh never mind. Apparently, all you need to do to change a girl’s mind is to grab her and kiss her.
Also, all the attempts at odd pronuciations of English and/or unfamiliar words? It was old when Ax did it. So chill out on that. You're ruining my immersion, man.
Of course, the vineyard gets saved, they get married, and Angela is well.... plowed. And with "crop", by the end of the book. Apparently tis was the third in the trilogy. Oops. I did manage to grab another book from this series, but with the rapey male lead, a totally flat female lead, and a grating straw feminist rounding out the cast, I'm not sure this bodes well for the other books. The only characters I really liked were the kids and Grandma Rose. And even she was all about the kids and Angela getting married. I'm not a ~raging~ feminist, but suffice it to say, I'm personally in my mid-twenties with no plans to marry any time soon. So respect that, families.
On to the fun part. Notable quotes!
"He loved the smell of fresh-turned dirt after spring-time plowing. He loved the feel of a soft woman under him in the bed furs… when engaged in another type of plowing. He loved the heft of a good sword in his fighting arm. He loved the low ride of a laden longship after a-viking in far distant lands." viking is a verb now?
---
"“I am not naked,” he said. “I have wrapped one of your towels around me, and I am wearing a pair of those jaw-key shorts under that. Wouldst like to see?” He stood and was about to remove the towel.
“No!” she shouted. Holey moley! Could her heart really stand such an intimate view of six-feet, five inches of drop-dead-gorgeous bare skin and muscle?"
---
"“You could say I am randy as a springtime bull whose blood has been heating all winter long. And believe you me, it has been a long winter for me.” "
---
"...and Angela was faced with an astounding fact. Magnus resembled a tree in height; she’d known that from the first. Now she knew that he had some very impressive branches…one in particular."
---
"Ah, who is this Hagar the Horrible? Methinks I would like to meet this dumb Norseman. He appears a fine, though misguided fellow."
---
"“What is it that you want, Magnus?” Angela asked, putting her hand on his.
He took her hand in his, twining their fingers, stared into her eyes steadily, and told her what his heart’s wish was.
“A cow.”"
---
"“I would not mind marrying you, but no more children,” he said as gently as he could.
“You would not mind…” she sputtered, then spun on her heel and rushed into her bathing chamber, where she locked the door after herself, but not before telling him to do something to himself that he was fairly certain was anatomically impossible… although Balki the Braggart had once claimed to do such. But then, Balki was the same person who claimed he could tie his man part in a knot and still engage in sexplay."
---
All in all, it might not be the worst out there, but wowzers. I'm almost afraid of what else I might find.
P.S. I want a sword called Head Lopper. To the Flea Market, away!
Dun-na-na-na... One top-heavy dude with a sword, and an allierative title. Yay. It’s amazing how many covers of romance novels have a top-heavy man who seems to have trouble finding buttons for his shirts and a teeny woamn. Not that I have anything against tall, well-built guys, but really?
It is the year 999, which the book claims that were “the days of old where men were…whatever…”
No, really. The book doesn’t care enough to make something up. That's the start we're getting off to, people.
Don't worry, though... We’re introduced to Magnus Ericsson, a man who is about as far from being “whatever” as you can imagine! He has four favorite things, including farming and farming-related euphemisms.
Unfortunately, plowing all those fields leads to ten little vikings all in a row, from nearly as many mothers, calling him Faðir day in and day out. Thank the gods that a few of them died, otherwise he’d have more! As an example; His newest daughter has been sent to him via merchant ship, and he tries to send her back. More to the point, he spends approximately FIVE PAGES attempting to do so.
So. What do we know so far? Magnus has three flaws. He can't keep it in his pants, he can get a chick pregnant at twenty paces... Oh, and he has big ears that he hides under his hair. What a travesty, that last one.
So we skip forward to 2003 to meet the lovely Angela Abruzzi, the female half of our protagonist duo. She's got a BMW, has a family vineyard called The Blue Dragon, and has both coal-black hair and coal-black eyes. Wow. I haven't seen that kind of description since my bad fanfic days... I mean my days of reading bad fanfic, of course.
Grandma Rose, though? I love Grandma Rose. She’s a snarky old woman with the faded overalls and tank top and mud-caked sneakers. She tops off that ensemble with an eighteen-carat-gold cigarette holder. I like her already. Well, other than the fact that she apparently has prayers powerful enough to pull our Viking forward in time over a thousand years. I'm calling it now. Grandma Rose is actually an elderly Haruhi Suzumiya.
All in all, the book is apparently supposed to be amusing on some level, but it reads like someone was intentionally trying to write the most cliched, telegraphed plot ever. There are a few amusing things to note, but one disturbing bit is the fact that early on, this happens:
"After a surprised squeal of dismay at his quick maneuver, she squirmed and shoved and tried to escape his embrace. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Thanking you. I told you that I wanted to thank you for bringing me here, and this is what I am doing.”"
Hold the fucking phone. No means no, buddy, and I don't care how "virile" you are. And Angela, what are you doing? Fight harder. You've already been stuck in one abusive marriage. Just because he's complimenting you don't mean you should... Oh never mind. Apparently, all you need to do to change a girl’s mind is to grab her and kiss her.
Also, all the attempts at odd pronuciations of English and/or unfamiliar words? It was old when Ax did it. So chill out on that. You're ruining my immersion, man.
Of course, the vineyard gets saved, they get married, and Angela is well.... plowed. And with "crop", by the end of the book. Apparently tis was the third in the trilogy. Oops. I did manage to grab another book from this series, but with the rapey male lead, a totally flat female lead, and a grating straw feminist rounding out the cast, I'm not sure this bodes well for the other books. The only characters I really liked were the kids and Grandma Rose. And even she was all about the kids and Angela getting married. I'm not a ~raging~ feminist, but suffice it to say, I'm personally in my mid-twenties with no plans to marry any time soon. So respect that, families.
On to the fun part. Notable quotes!
"He loved the smell of fresh-turned dirt after spring-time plowing. He loved the feel of a soft woman under him in the bed furs… when engaged in another type of plowing. He loved the heft of a good sword in his fighting arm. He loved the low ride of a laden longship after a-viking in far distant lands." viking is a verb now?
---
"“I am not naked,” he said. “I have wrapped one of your towels around me, and I am wearing a pair of those jaw-key shorts under that. Wouldst like to see?” He stood and was about to remove the towel.
“No!” she shouted. Holey moley! Could her heart really stand such an intimate view of six-feet, five inches of drop-dead-gorgeous bare skin and muscle?"
---
"“You could say I am randy as a springtime bull whose blood has been heating all winter long. And believe you me, it has been a long winter for me.” "
---
"...and Angela was faced with an astounding fact. Magnus resembled a tree in height; she’d known that from the first. Now she knew that he had some very impressive branches…one in particular."
---
"Ah, who is this Hagar the Horrible? Methinks I would like to meet this dumb Norseman. He appears a fine, though misguided fellow."
---
"“What is it that you want, Magnus?” Angela asked, putting her hand on his.
He took her hand in his, twining their fingers, stared into her eyes steadily, and told her what his heart’s wish was.
“A cow.”"
---
"“I would not mind marrying you, but no more children,” he said as gently as he could.
“You would not mind…” she sputtered, then spun on her heel and rushed into her bathing chamber, where she locked the door after herself, but not before telling him to do something to himself that he was fairly certain was anatomically impossible… although Balki the Braggart had once claimed to do such. But then, Balki was the same person who claimed he could tie his man part in a knot and still engage in sexplay."
---
All in all, it might not be the worst out there, but wowzers. I'm almost afraid of what else I might find.
P.S. I want a sword called Head Lopper. To the Flea Market, away!
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Welcome, victims.
"You want me to have sex with you and have your children? But you want your friend to have sex with me first to loosen me up?"
"He worked my cunt like a piston in a V-12 Jag."
"Your lifting up that wet T-shirt and pulling a tuna can out of your bra is one of the sexiest moves I've ever seen, either on-screen or off."
"She played with him, her fingertips lightly stroking, kneading, sliding back the soft hood to feel the dampening tip. The flesh leaped in her palm, like some blind burrowing animal."
"She felt like a slow match soaked in lime and sparked by red-hot steel. She shut her eyes again as something inside her began to burn. Ignited by his unexpected and intimate kiss the inner match sizzled with gathering brightness and heat. Its core seemed to be in her belly, but the long, sparkling fuse of passion radiated in a hundred divergent directions, touching all of her with scintillating warmth."
Sadly, these are all quotes from published books. How they managed to get published, I'll never know. On this blog, I'll be subjecting myself to some of the worst the romance novel scene has to offer. All for your amusement, of course. Hopefully, I may have some less cringe-worthy ones, but who knows? Where's the fun in that, anyway?
These posts will be full of spoilers, speculation, and incredulity, but I doubt you would be reading these books yourself to begin with. I hope you wouldn't inflict such things upon your sanity, at least. As for myself... Well, maybe I'm being a literary masochist. I will take request for books at some point, so that should be fun.
My name is Aubrey, and I suppose it's nice to meet you. I may have a few personal posts every so often, but I'll try to keep the focus on the books. I'm not sure if anyone will be interested in my particular brand of humor, but c'est la vie.
"He worked my cunt like a piston in a V-12 Jag."
"Your lifting up that wet T-shirt and pulling a tuna can out of your bra is one of the sexiest moves I've ever seen, either on-screen or off."
"She played with him, her fingertips lightly stroking, kneading, sliding back the soft hood to feel the dampening tip. The flesh leaped in her palm, like some blind burrowing animal."
"She felt like a slow match soaked in lime and sparked by red-hot steel. She shut her eyes again as something inside her began to burn. Ignited by his unexpected and intimate kiss the inner match sizzled with gathering brightness and heat. Its core seemed to be in her belly, but the long, sparkling fuse of passion radiated in a hundred divergent directions, touching all of her with scintillating warmth."
Sadly, these are all quotes from published books. How they managed to get published, I'll never know. On this blog, I'll be subjecting myself to some of the worst the romance novel scene has to offer. All for your amusement, of course. Hopefully, I may have some less cringe-worthy ones, but who knows? Where's the fun in that, anyway?
These posts will be full of spoilers, speculation, and incredulity, but I doubt you would be reading these books yourself to begin with. I hope you wouldn't inflict such things upon your sanity, at least. As for myself... Well, maybe I'm being a literary masochist. I will take request for books at some point, so that should be fun.
My name is Aubrey, and I suppose it's nice to meet you. I may have a few personal posts every so often, but I'll try to keep the focus on the books. I'm not sure if anyone will be interested in my particular brand of humor, but c'est la vie.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)