We are very glad that we did not watch Country Boys last night. And not just because it reminds us of where we grew up and/or various familial relations. We do not need that shit to remind us how to represent Southern Illinois style. Keep your cheese-ass coal train/school bus metaphors to yourself, dun. We lived them snaps.
Right now we are embarrassed to admit that we are reading a mad-bonkers piece of pop trash. No, not Jackie Collins' Rock Star or something with a little validity. In fact, we are totally reading Executive Orders by Tom Clancy, the one where Jack Ryan becomes President and the entire government is killed when a Japanese pilot crashes into the Capitol building during the State of the Union Address. There is all this formal/governmental/Presidential procedure shit that we are totally interested in and this novel feeds that part of us, the part that longs to be a secret service agent or special counsel to the White House, or Leo McGarry, or anything that gets us close to hot executive branch action. Google search #2: Hot executive branch action. Oh, John Jay, bounce with us. Check that. We want Senator Patrick Leahy to be our power forward. He offers the most delicious smackdowns!