Holiday Wraps
...and no, I wouldn't think of desecrating the Thanksgiving leftovers by encircling them in organic whole grain wraps, that'd just be...creepy.
Thanksgiving went off with only the minor hitch of the turkey being undercooked in the lowly dark meat (just the thighs really and no one ate those), as this year I was thankful for zombies, I treated my family to a rollicking viewing of Robert Rodriguez's seminal tale of the undead in Texas, Planet Terror. My father loved the Machete trailer, which is awesome and hilarious, but when it came down to zombie gore, he was all groans. My mother loved it. I was overjoyed with both reactions. As an aside, my father has been talking up my book to his church friends without having read it himself. Tsk Tsk. Easter Brunch is going to be interesting, this year.
Friday morning came early, as we partook (partaked, God what an awkward ugly word)--how's this--dragged our tired butts out of bed at 4:45 am, pulled on Thursday's clothes and trudged off to Target for elbows in the ribs and flat tires galore. The good news? We finished the vast majority of our Christmas shopping by 11:00 am. The bad news: Black Friday was low on the deals, and high on the crowds.
That's about it. In between were many naps, snacks and nearly a full season of Nip/Tuck, cuz what says the holidays more than a couple of oversexed thirty-somethings carving up drug mules for breast implants full of scag. I can't think of anything.
One more thing...
This week, my agent, Jim McCarthy, swings by the League of Reluctant Adults Lounge for Mai Tais and witty repartée. You'll want to sneak by for his take on query letters, paper cuts, and the state of urban fantasy in the marketplace.
Thanksgiving went off with only the minor hitch of the turkey being undercooked in the lowly dark meat (just the thighs really and no one ate those), as this year I was thankful for zombies, I treated my family to a rollicking viewing of Robert Rodriguez's seminal tale of the undead in Texas, Planet Terror. My father loved the Machete trailer, which is awesome and hilarious, but when it came down to zombie gore, he was all groans. My mother loved it. I was overjoyed with both reactions. As an aside, my father has been talking up my book to his church friends without having read it himself. Tsk Tsk. Easter Brunch is going to be interesting, this year.
Friday morning came early, as we partook (partaked, God what an awkward ugly word)--how's this--dragged our tired butts out of bed at 4:45 am, pulled on Thursday's clothes and trudged off to Target for elbows in the ribs and flat tires galore. The good news? We finished the vast majority of our Christmas shopping by 11:00 am. The bad news: Black Friday was low on the deals, and high on the crowds.
That's about it. In between were many naps, snacks and nearly a full season of Nip/Tuck, cuz what says the holidays more than a couple of oversexed thirty-somethings carving up drug mules for breast implants full of scag. I can't think of anything.
One more thing...
This week, my agent, Jim McCarthy, swings by the League of Reluctant Adults Lounge for Mai Tais and witty repartée. You'll want to sneak by for his take on query letters, paper cuts, and the state of urban fantasy in the marketplace.
Comments