Not to get all off topic but I just finished the single fucking corniest detective novel in the history of time and space. This shit won awards in Japan but I guess that's due to its plot being about a handsome loner detective who's liked by none but respected by all, neither young and unwise nor old and infirm, dates a 22-year old singer with big tits whom he saves from a crazed killer who happens to be a fan who took a break from slaughtering cops to take in a concert. Yeah, so basically it's like Entourage in book form with no sex and the token gay is a predatory rapist.
The book itself spent last night on the balcony cuz frankly it's not welcome in my home, being brainless, obvious male fantasy bullshit. A perfect soundtrack for that life-stealing garbage pile would be the music of Bon Jovi, whose songs are so stupifyingly vague and unconvincingly populist that they might as well have titles like "Let's All Buy Bon Jovi Records" or "I'm The Reason Your Chick Is In The Mood To Fuck" and "This Song Is About The Loneliness Of Rock Stardom." We are hating on Bon Jovi at HooM! all week don't go anywhere! Tomorrow: Fairbairn and Child, the men who made Jon BJ look talented.