Someone at one of the blogs I frequent posted her excitement over getting a Kindle for Christmas. Her words being, "I can't wait to have sex with it."
For Christmas I got a Kindle also. (I'm not allowed to mention that it came from Carolyn because she's afraid of looking as amazingly generous as she is and she wants people to think she's scary and mean instead of absolutely lovely...) I love my Kindle. LOVE IT!!!
I've been getting a bad time for it at work. There's the "I love to hold/smell/taste a real book" crowd that makes me a little gaggy. I always thought a book was in the story and writing, not in a strawberry scented cover (ALERT: Marketing Idea!! Grab it smart person!!)
(On a tangent: would romance novels then smell like Fabio's armpits?)
Moving on. I love love love my Kindle. I've read more book since I've owned it than I've read in the previous months of 2010. I named it. I coo at it. I'd rather take it to bed than Fabio.
(Not the fella above. He's gorgeous. Screw the Kindle if he shows up.)
What's the point of all this? None really. The woman that posted obviously should have edited herself and I like to post silly pictures for no reason.