Dear Booger
By
Zuke
Review by Angel(not-so-nice)Rad
Next
Birthday or Christmas or Groundhog’s Day I’m telling all my siblings that the
gift to give me is a trip to Hawaii.
I’m underlining it six times on my list.
I’ve dropped hints the size of boulders. I’ve shown up at family reunions in a grass
skirt. Hey, I’ll even sit on the mall
Santa’s urine-saturated lap (and risk ruining my favorite leather pants) if it
will help my chances of getting lei’d.
Seriously,
I’ve never been to Hawaii. I hate saying
I’ve never done something.
And
what is the likelihood I’ll find reservations and plane tickets in my
stocking? About even with the odds that
Madonna will knock on my front door next week and announce she’s ditching Rocco
and the kids for me. Sad, but
irrefutably true.
But
a girl can dream...
I
can even imagine what might happen on my subtropical sojourn...
...
it involves Madonna and copious amounts of poi...
Or, I could give my
overtired imagination a rest and just read Zuke’s little masterpiece... a very
enjoyable substitute for the real thing.
But
m’dears, I must add a few cautionary words:
Don’t
read this if you’re looking for smoldery, cynical, sexy ex-drug lords or secret
agents. There are no leather-wearing,
Smith & Wesson toting detectives with bruised souls and secret pasts.
It
just ain’t happening in this one... thank goodness... it’s just a humorous tale
about a generous brother and a dream vacation with a few snags (in the form of
an icy, green-eyed blonde with attitude) thrown in for dramatic effect.
What
you will find in this story is that you are laughing one moment and
wishing the author would write a sequel in the next.
So,
okay, that’ll be #2 on my wish list—A sequel to Dear Booger...
Go
read it... you’ll be dreaming of sequels instead of sugarplums... I just know
it...
And
listen... if you see that parsimonious little sister of mine, you might
mention, just in passing, that a sweater from the Gap is nice and all, but a
cottage on a beach in Maui just might keep me from describing to mom, in
vivid detail, exactly how that big dent in the rear of her Mercedes just
miraculously *appeared * one night...
no
threats... that’s all I’m saying...