Impulse Buys

God preserve me from impulse buys on the way home from work while ever so slightly tipsy. I am a true shopoholic as sure as Sophie Kinsella’s heroine in her series of books Confessions of a Shopoholic. (and, no, I will never live this down. Me, the literary snob of the century reading sex ‘n’ shopping novels? I’m going to have to go into hiding for the rest of my life. I’m going to have to leave the country. Possibly even this galaxy I have come to know and love.) The purchases in question were Rachel North’s Out of the Tunnel and PC David Copperfield’s (not his real name, I’m assuming. Ooh, top of the class for observation.) Wasting Police Time. Anyways, (see the NYU touch there – I lived in NYU for a while and have never escaped from its influence). On the comments section of the publisher’s website site it was mentioned that one or two chain stores refused to carry the title (Hmmm….One wouldn’t be B*rd*rs, by any chance? I briefly worked there and they did seem particularly hostile to independent booksellers – note, this is an observation , not necessarily a fact – the clue lies in the word ‘seem’.)

Anyway, I don’t think either book will make happy reading – not something that does a great deal for me anyway – as a friend said ‘this is reality and you’d better rub your own nose in it before someone comes along and, without warning, does it for you’. Whatever, they’re bound to be superior to Dave Pelzer and all his clones.

Oh, yeah, and if I don’t like either book, I say so, None of that ‘sycophancy’ nonsense for me. I’ll just recycle them as Christmas presents for my darling mother. She likes ‘autobiographies’. So I’ve got to avoid snapping the spines of either of them. Or maybe I’ll just recycle them. Ding, dong, the bitch is back!

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