After starting the second book of the "Hunger Games Trilogy", I've given up on it. I know it was highly recommended, but it has the fatal flaw of being silly. Next I read about fifty pages of "The Art Of Racing In The Rain." I gave up on that, too. It was also recommended, but it seemed to be a lot of New Age pablum written in the fourth-person: the family dog. Plus, it seemed silly in this age of Obama fascism.
I needed a break from all this gloom so I decided to read the second book in the Calvin Becker Trilogy, "Saving Grandma." The first book, "Portofino" I totally enjoyed. I'd always rather have a book and I have Amazon Prime so shipping is free. However, it was $1.80 cheaper on the Kindle. So, since I wanted to read on this chilly weekend (22 degrees) that I'm on some imaginary back-up call because the anesthesiologist is 35 week pregnant, I purchased the Kindle book. After two chapters I'm glad I got it. The only problem is that CP doesn't like sharing her Kindle with me. Just because I accidentally turn on the wireless and returned a book to the library that she had waited three months for is no reason to get stingy with her Kindle.
Is it possible to find a chicken breast that isn't that isn't a 44-triple-D? What is this, "The Hens Of Orange County?" They take forever to cook and one is no longer just enough for one person. Plus, they're tough. Every once in a while I get one that seems to be made by Michelin. Somewhere out there, there must be a flock of flat-chested chickens. I understand that things always get bigger (today's Subaru Forester was yesterday's Outback) but with other things I can always trade down a model. When it comes to poultry bigger isn't better and just because you can breed a flock of feathered Dolly Partons, that doesn't mean you should. Someone should introduce a line of small tender, juicy, succulent chicken products; they can name it Emo-Chicken.