Jennifer Armstrong left a link to a brilliant article that contains the following great quote:

Administrators breed unless checked.

We all need to be reminded of this as often as possible.

 

The only words that are not offensive about this ad are “January 30, 2104.” Everything else is simply egregious.

Excuse me, I need to go vomit right now.

My friend Ol. asks me to share the stunning story of my visits to the gym.

The really shocking part of this news is that not only do I go to the gym 3-5 times a week but that I also drive there. OK, I don’t drive there every time but only when the car is available to me (meaning, the weekends.)

Today, for instance, I drove to the restaurant where we had breakfast, to a new gift store we have in town, to the Office Depot, the grocery store, and then to Sam’s Club (all these stores are located in different areas of our town.) And then I drove back home, even though it is raining really hard.

And the weirdest thing? I don’t hate any of this. The visits to the gym are actually enjoyable.

People who don’t know me in person are now thinking that this is a very boring post.

People who do know me in person are now thinking that they don’t really know me any longer.

OK, everybody hates Adelle, I hate Adelle, too, Adelle is banished to the dog-house. I hope we have no reader called Adelle among us. If we do, I apologize.

I have now switched on our runner-up SemPress. If everybody hates that one, we can always go back to the original theme.

Elizabeth George’s most recent book has been an even greater disaster than her previous two novels. It cured my insomnia once and for all: I still fall asleep every time I remember its poor excuse for a plot and the horrible writing.

Ruth Rendell’s last good novel was published in 2009. She is a genius but her age is too advanced for her to write contemporary mystery novels.

Laura Lippman’s last novel was also a snooze.

Tess Gerritsen has made her writing as anodyne as possible to make it TV-adaptable.

Michael Connelly has taken the wrong path with his new character Mickey Haller. I mean, seriously, Mickey? It’s 2013, not 1943. You can’t expect people to read about somebody who calls himself Mickey and not get bored.

Jon Lescroart has squeezed all the juice there was in his Glitsky / Hardy series and created the most inane novel in the world this year. It was embarrassingly bad.

Richard North Patterson did a cute defense of feminism in his most recent novel but it isn’t a mystery.

So if you love the mystery genre and are finding yourself with nothing to read, I have advice for you: READ SOPHIE HANNAH. She is amazing. Her mysteries are the most intriguing, intelligent, and engrossing on the market.