Where's Waldo?

Hell hath no fury like a cover artist apparently told to capture a scene from each chapter of the book! Yikes! There is so much going on in this picture that I'm too tired from looking at it to read the book!

The Phuture is Phallic!

Happy New Year, Judge a Book readers (at least those who use the Gregorian Calendar!). From Shushie:

This book isn't awful, just outdated now at 30 years old. It was briefly mentioned this morning on CBS's Sunday Morning show as part of a 30 year retrospective comparing technology then and now, but of course I had to check and I was certainly surprised to see how several public libraries still hold this title as part of their collection -- hopefully in a special section for discussion or nostalgic purposes only considering that in history according to this book:

- Between 1980 and 1990 household computers cooked our meals and kept a diary for the people living in the house; the first domestic robots were used as household "slaves" to do simple tasks; energy saving features were built into all new houses; and the world tree planting programme had begun.

- Between 1991 and 2000 the household computer now ran the robot slaves to do most work formerly done by the human housewife so that women could go to work or spend their time on leisure activities; we all started talking on wrist-radios; and the USSR launched its "cosmic greenhouse" as part of its space station complex which helped further the design of future space cities.

Yeah, but all I see are phalluses!




Penis in Spaaaaaaaaaaace!

I (BikerPuppy) am a single woman hoping to eventually find the man of my dreams. That's why I make fun of the romance novels -- because I'm jealous that they portray as obtainable what I've been so far unable to obtain. This is not for lack of trying, but where does a professional woman meet a suitable man in this day and age? Bars? No, I'm not 22. Book stores? Hasn't worked so far. Dog parks? You'd think this would work, but the men I meet there are married or gay, without exception. That leaves internet dating, which I'm in the process of trying, with mixed results.

However, the cover of Hamilton's book illustrates the danger we face as single women (I guess men face the same danger) looking for love online. It's easy and safe to talk and flirt online and on the phone, but eventually you're going to meet in person. You never know what you're going to get. Fortunately for me, I've never had anyone show up with a razor blade (or at least not one that they've shown to me), but I've had guys show up who are clearly 15 years older than their pictures, who are now covered in tattoos (when their pics showed unmarked skin), or who think it's ok to show up for a first date in ripped or dirty clothing. I guess, given the razor blade alternative, I should be content.


Thanks, Flirt cover artist -- you've scared me into closing my Match.com account and trying Plan B.