Stories I Only Tell My Friends

This man is not aging! Lowe, what is your secret? You did not reveal it in your autobiography, that's for sure. You did; however, include many stories that followed the celebrity conceal and reveal pattern: "and that boy grew up to be...Robert Downey Jr./Sarah Jessica Parker/Bill Clinton/Justin Bieber/Lady Gaga."

He kind of skimmed over the whole underage video sex thing but I'm sure we'll learn more about that when Kitty Kelley tackles The Brat Pack (Dear Lord, please make that book happen. Thanks, Jane). He did finally explain why he named his son Johnowen: he wanted John, his wife wanted Owen - by gum it's so simple!

Rob Lowe, I enjoyed your book. I look forward to your follow-up, which will surely detail your time on Parks & Recreation (is Adam Scott amazing? Of course he is, why am I even questioning it) and finally reveal what gives you that eternal youthful glow. It's stem cells, isn't it? I bet it's stem cells.

3.5 wild nights at Hard Rock Cafe with Emilio out of 5.

The Call

I love this book. Get it and read it. The end.

Oh, fine.

Exhibit A: Farm animals and rural vet stuff. I don't know about you, but I love to read about people who have jobs that I find simultaneously amazing and horrifyingly gross. I don't have it in me to reach into a goat and pull out her kid - but by God I want to read about it.

Exhibit B: A non-threatening spaceship. None of this Independence Day "Welcome to Urf" tentacles and world domination stuff - just pleasant blinking lights. Oh, it's not a spoiler, this isn't shelved in the sci-fi section, calm yourself.

Exhibit C: A contemporary fiction book that isn't all sad people doing sad things. A first-person, journal-style contemporary fiction book that isn't sad people doing sad things! Wonders never cease.

4.5 ruptured cow uteruses (uteri?) out of 5. Ick that's so violent. How about, 4.5 friendly spacemen out of 5. Much better.

Bedbugs

Oh man. If you know me (and you do because, let's face it, this blog ain't no Dooce), you know that when I see a mattress on the side of the road I give it a wiiiiiiide berth. In New York, in Boston, in any city where students are crammed into tiny apartments where they spend their days swapping fluids with anything that moves (or so the media has led me to believe), bed bugs have taken hold. Every year, the students flee, they deposit their urine (I *hope* that's urine?) stained mattresses on the streets, and the bed bugs flex their haunches and prepare to launch onto whomever is so foolish as to walk within 2-3 feet. ALSO they never die. ALSO they can live in books. BOOKS. Bedbugs, you wound me to my CORE!

To sum: This book is scary & gross. The characters are well-developed, and there are some great twists and turns. Also if you get bed bugs, we can no longer be friends. Sorry.

4 tiny spots of blood on your pillow out of 5. Huh. Weird...