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God I’m sick to death of books about demons.

Of course there are certain books about demons that I’ve bought recently, but those book buying choices were more about the author than my interest in the actual books themselves. Does that make me incredibly loyal or incredibly stoopid?

I know I’ve said it before, but I’m really hating (and I mean, really hating) the deluge of vampiric demon books out there. Everytime I see a book with the word demon in the title, I feel the need to stick a fork in my eye. It’s painful, and I can’t bear it. At this point, even the virgin-mistress-secret baby Harlequin Presents books are starting to look good in comparison. Big effing sigh.

Oh, and just in case anybody gives a crap, I’m officially in mourning over the fact that Lewis Hamilton somehow managed to fuck up an all-but-sewn-up Formula One world championship title this weekend. I’ve told TTG that I wont be able to watch the race in Brazil, my nerves wont be able to hold up under the strain.

Erm… any Aussies out there watch the Rugby World Cup this weekend? *smirk*