And yes, that charming lady in the middle picking her nose is our famous 104-year-old Grammy, Elsie McLean. If you don't know why she's famous, google her ass and get wise, I'm sure. Cripes, she's even on Wikipedia!
So while in the Burbank airport on the way to Chico, I bought a few magazines to help kill time and among them was this most horrid of rags, Star Magazine. But the cover advertising the best AND WORST beach bodies gave me hope at making me feel better about the sorry current state of my own sugar-overloaded gelatinousness, and so I purchased it and brought it to Chico. Now, Grammy is a smart cookie and a total lady, and reads (no exaggeration) about a book a day, does crosswords, plays Bridge, golfs three times a week and still has time to make persimmon cookies, chocolate cake, and then waffles for everyone's breakfast.
So it came as kind of a shock while we were all playing Mexican Trainwreck one night to look over and see that Grammy had very quietly finished her novel, and with ancient ninja-like stealth, had picked right past the Glamour, the Sunset, the Allure, and gone straight for the much smuttier reading fare. And read it cover to cover.
Recipe for a long life: Tons of golf, lots of salt and black coffee, not listening to doctors, and, as it turns out, Tara Reid's cheesy butt cheeks and the latest on The Hills' dipshits. Who knew?