Don’t make fun of renowned Dan Brown. “Mr Unconvincingname, it’s renowned author Dan Brown,” told the voice at the other end of the line. Instantly the voice at the other end of the line was replaced by a different voice at the other end of the line. “Hello, it’s literary agent John Unconvincingname,” informed the new voice at the other end of the line. “Hello agent John, it’s client Dan,” commented the pecunious scribbler. “I’m worried about new book Inferno. I think critics are going to say it’s badly written.”
The voice at the other end of the line gave a sigh, like a mighty oak toppling into a great river, or something else that didn’t sound like a sigh if you gave it a moment’s thought. That’s true, mused the accomplished composer of thrillers that combined religion, high culture and conspiracy theories. “Think of all the money you’ve made,” recommended the literary agent. Renowned author Dan Brown smiled, the ends of his mouth curving upwards in a physical expression of pleasure. “Thanks, John,” he thanked. Fiasco! Lauren Cooper & Doctor Who clash in class. Bad Children's Books. Twisted Films of PES. 30-Second Bunnies Theatre.
Damn You Auto Correct! Free Cat. Easy Cocktails from the Cursing Mommy. Those high-priced bartenders in their red vests and white shirts who your caterers recommended to serve at your last party may know a thing or two, but for entertaining on a smaller scale—for parties of seven people, four, or even just one—a few simple steps to the perfect cocktail are all you’ll ever need. Take, for example, this drink I’m drinking right now. Where the hell did I put it? I just set it down five minutes ago. I had it when I was watching the news, I know that. Plus, it’s so delicious! If Larry took my last spare bottle to use in his fucking Sno-Kone machine, by Christ, I swear I’ll—oh, thank God.
Anyway, you take your Rose’s Lime Juice, you take your favorite gimlet glass (which, for me, is the one I was just using), and—fuck. O.K., we have established that that was definitely not the glass I was looking for. Usually at about this time of the evening I must begin making dinner. Oh, fucking hell. (Pause.) The Cursing Mommy Cooks Italian. Chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop clatter chop skitter crash bang—FUCK!
Stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir stir skid bang skitter bang crash—SHIT! Hello. For those of you who don’t know me, I would like to apologize for my brief outburst there at the beginning, but I am the Cursing Mommy, and occasionally I do blurt curses, break crockery, give people the finger, and hurl objects to the floor.
Well, all I can say about that is, anyone who can make a Bolognese sauce and not get a bit flustered has my heartfelt admiration! I expect we’ve seen the last of that behavior today, however, as I turn to one of my favorite dishes, a delightful and relaxing seafood risotto in the Venetian style. At some point in your past, all of you have no doubt been under pressure to prepare a dinner party in which everything is really special and “just so.” Well, actually, no. [Pause.] Rx from the Cursing Mommy. If you’re wondering what happened to the Cursing Mommy column scheduled for today, please don’t worry—“How to Make a Festive Holiday Centerpiece Out of Used Coffee Filters and Then Throw It at Your Fucking Husband’s Head” will definitely appear next week. Instead, today I want to take an upbeat and problem-solving look at a very timely subject that all of us have to deal with and may be feeling a bit confused about, and that is health care. Now, many of you are probably like me in that your husband considers his work to be of such extreme importance that all supposedly lesser tasks, such as the handling of health-care paperwork, are left totally up to you.
Fucking Larry should fucking pitch in and help, but trying to get him to actually do anything—well, good luck, is all I can say. The good news, however, is that the health-care paperwork deluge need not be the dreadful terror it seems. Organization, efficiency, and a clear sense of your filing system are key. I think the fax is done. The Oatmeal. TheBloggess. Go away. Best Complaint Letter. Ever.