Baby , you're no good
I am in the book-buying business (albeit the nonfiction end), so I can say that a good review is really important. I rely on reviewers to tell me when a book is a new viewpoint in its the field, when it puts concepts into an accessible framework, when enough people will know about it that our undergrads and faculty will want it available.
And yet, I can’t quote a single good review. But the truly malicious bad review sticks with us. It’s the "Tonstant Weader fwowed up" and "can’t sing, can’t act, can dance a little" which earn a place in our hearts. (Or Art Campbell, stage and screen reviewer for NBC-4 DC, looking in the camera after the Sheena Easton – Raul Julia production of Man of La Mancha crying "A singer who can’t act! An actor who can’t sing! Easily the most painful theatrical experience of my career!")
And so I give you this review of "Afterburner." Sacha Zimmerman seems to think that this is a very, very, very bad book. The review includes lines like “her latest addition to the best-seller list, is simultaneously foul, saccharine, and cloying.” But here’s what catches my eye:
Even the sex isn't hot; it's vulgar (the words "marinated" and "juice" are used way too often).
Now maybe I cook too much, but “marinate” does not seem to me to be a sexy process. “Juice” might be up to an individual aesthetic sense, but “marinated”?
So I suggest here, for the benefit of the Internet, the following list of erotic and nonerotic kitchen terms. For the purposes of really screwing up my search ranking, I encourage your input.
Cast Iron Skillet
Oh God. My mom reads this website. Hi Mom. How’s Dad?
Anybody know a good therapist?