A few more chuckles from Mary Roach before I put this book to bed.
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My husband does not moisturize, though at times I wish he would.
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As you know I have a spouse who enjoys filling our kitchen with overpriced gadgets…. so I totally get this. Though thankfully no $345 pentolas have crossed our doorstep.
Yet.
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Touchless trash cans with sensor eyes? Please don’t tell my husband.
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Preach sister! My spouse never ever uses coins but has them stashed everywhere. In the den closet, in every vehicle cubbyhole, and yes in jars on the bedroom floor.
According to my stats I’m on a path to having the highest monthly views since I got here four years ago.
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Granted I’ve been blogging about fascinating topics in January like the junk in our basement, crab balls and masturbating walruses… but still. The spike in readers seems a bit extreme.
And because I was curious which posts were popular, I checked.
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Turns out they all were.
But only once.
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I’m sure it’s just spammers, but most of the views are from the U.S., not India or Pakistan…. so it makes me wonder which one of you could be stalking my blog and searching my archives for pearls of wisdom like ‘Of Slime and Flies’?
Fess up. There’s no shame in the admission, we all need a hobby.
I have not, nor do I ever intend to read Prince Harry’s book, Spare. While part of me feels sorry for the guy growing up in a cold as ice household and losing his mother when young…. I have no desire to plumb the depths of the royal family’s secrets and peak behind the curtain of the modern monarchy.
It seems everywhere you turn people are talking about this book and while it’s been easy enough to ignore, one article the other day caught my eye … and when that happens? You know I have to share.
Here are a few of the more… how shall we say…colorful excerpts from the infamous book.
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Did the press write extensively about the Royal penis? Gee. I’m glad I missed that.
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You know what? I did ‘shrooms back in the day and never talked to a toilet. Myself? Yes. But then I’m a better conversationalist than most commodes. Or so I’ve been told.
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Not talking about your frostbitten todger at all would have been preferable.