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Last night I went all urpy when I fell asleep and dreamed that I'd invented a cross between the grape tomato and an eggplant. It was called The Graymato. It wasn't a good name, but the finished product was really pretty. I think I have to go a little easier on the tomatoes. All that acid.
Well, tonight I have a book discussion for a book I couldn't finish reading. Because the combination of Golden Age mystery in a real-world, "gritty" setting makes everyone act like a sociopath, that's why. Although you could probably argue that most Golden Age mysteries are like that: "I say, they raped Nigel, stuffed him in the wood chipper and served his shredded remains to us for pudding." "Oh dear! That will put me right off my tea. Has the post come?" I'm serving watermelon. Wish me luck.
Well, tonight I have a book discussion for a book I couldn't finish reading. Because the combination of Golden Age mystery in a real-world, "gritty" setting makes everyone act like a sociopath, that's why. Although you could probably argue that most Golden Age mysteries are like that: "I say, they raped Nigel, stuffed him in the wood chipper and served his shredded remains to us for pudding." "Oh dear! That will put me right off my tea. Has the post come?" I'm serving watermelon. Wish me luck.
