Smart Bitches Trashy Books | All of the romance, none of the bullshit.

My Romancing the Blog post is up - apparently I’ve made people cry.

1. Go to Google.

2. Search for “man-titty.”

3. Check out who’s number one.

Oh yeah, that’s right. Take THAT, Chris Rock! BOO YAH!

Other search terms for which we are the tippy-toppiest of the Top Dogs:

• trashy books
• trashy novels
• Dominican bitches (but we have been pretty much from day one)
• trashy bitches

We’ve worked hard to provide hard-hitting (huh huh, I said “hard") content to you, and we’re proud that we’ve cornered the number one spots in these coveted search terms.

As Sarah said, we should have one of those used car sales ads with the guy bellowing on the bullhorn saying “WE ARE NUMBER ONE IN MAN-TITTY SO COME ON DOWN TO SMART BITCHES, TRASHY BOOKS!”

Note: today’s cover snark isn’t entirely work safe, unless you work in an office where you create CG man-titty book covers. So read below at your own risk!

Above and beyond the Hell that is moving, please note that the following has happened to Candy in the span of the last 12 hours:

- While installing her DSL modem last night, she found that not only would the DSL modem NOT connect to the Internet, but the phone line somehow got thoroughly fucked over in the process. I’m pretty computer savvy, and I didn’t do anything exotic. Plugged one end of the cord provided into the modem, plugged the other into the phone jack, and BLAMMO, instead fuck-up.

The technician will be over some time “between 1 and 5 p.m.,” or so they say. It’s kinda cool that I get to cut out of work early, but man, I’d much rather that the DSL had just WORKED, y’know?

- This morning, on my way to work, I slowed down because it was a) pitch-black, b) slippery, and c) I didn’t want to miss the intersection I needed. As a I slowed down, I heard the sound of screeching brakes, and just as I looked into the rearview mirror, BAM, someone ran into me.

The person immediately turned his lights off, which I thought was strange, but I was pretty shaken up and my thoughts were scattered. Anyway, I turned my blinker on, pulled off to the side of the road and waited.

And the car cruised on by, lights still off.

By the time I got back on the road, I couldn’t tell which car had hit me. Because it had been so dark, and because the shit-ass motherfucker had turned his lights off SO FAST, I can’t even tell you what make or model the car was, much less its license number.

(Which makes the following comment from the police so much funnier: “Why did you wait so long to call? Now we’ll never catch the driver.” DUDE. I didn’t even know what color the goddamn car was!)

Luckily, the bumper suffered only a few dings.

Unluckily, I’m anal-retentive about keeping the car in perfect condition. It’s my first new car, damn it! *breaks down sobbing* So after the DSL technician comes over, I’m driving over to the dealership to see how much it’ll cost to fix the damage.

Pray that the reaming will go gently, my pretties. Oh, and while you’re at it, feel free to wish evil, evil things on the turdburgling dickheaded cuntmonkey who ran into me.

God knows I am.

But! One bright spot in my day so far: my Amazon.com package arrived, and I now have in my sweaty little mitts the new Franz Ferdinand album (I saw them on Monday night and holy crap they were good and HOT DAMN I want to lick Alex Kapranos). Also, Lisa Kleypas’s latest.

I don’t know what it is about Lisa Kleypas books, but I have to read them immediately after I get them. Even shitty Kleypas books (and she’s written a few groaners) are finished instead of tossed to the wayside.

So yay, new music, and yay, new book to read. Good thing, too, because God knows what my Internet connection will be like all weekend. 

Congratulations, Vicki, for correctly guessing the answer for today’s personal ad contest. Who says procrastination doesn’t pay?

Kneel, Vicki, and rise as: