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Now let me begin this blog with a disclaimer. I’m one of those people who shy away from the soapbox, and I save my “rants” for when Gus-the-Newfoundland has an “accident” on the livingroom rug. But sometimes something so low, comes along that I just cannot keep quiet. And like that pile of you-know-what sitting on the Mowhawk carpet, the book Go the F*** To Sleep stinks.

I mean REALLY..? This is considered funny? Entertainment?  “Pure Genius?”  Now for those of you mumbling into your sleeves “Oh come-on, lighten up.” I put the question. Where does taste leave off and the gag reflex kick in? Evidently anything Samuel L. Jackson (who I adore as an actor) reads aloud is considered good literature. But for god’s sake, would you invite Jules Winnfield to read your kids to sleep? I have experienced this book, seen the Sam Jackson video and watched the commercials ad nauseum. I suppose we’ll see the T shirt on the market soon. And all for one thing–the almighty… ( it rhymes with the bleeped word in its title).  Might I suggest instead, a book,  for all of you “parents who live in the real world.”  It’s called Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown. 

Read it–to your kids and maybe… just maybe you’ll find that  those little people you spend so much time trying to avoid can touch your soul instead of getting on your last nerve.   

End of rant.  

Grab today–tomorrow is coming.   Fantastically your, LC 

“Death leaned over my shoulder and said “Live…I’m coming.”

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