Last night, I saw a copy of Diablo Cody’s Candy Girl: A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper at a thrift store for $2. Cody interests me, but I really hoped the dialogue wouldn’t be too reminiscent of Juno. (I swear, if I ever hear anyone refer to their significant lover as “the cheese to my macaroni” again, I may have to disable them from ever accidentally getting - or getting someone - pregnant).
While the narration occasionally gets too alliterative or silly, as when Cody refers to something as “gopher guts gross,” I cannot put the book down. Interestingly, the other book I’m reading at the moment is So Sexy So Soon: The New Sexualized Childhood and What Parents Can Do To Protect Their Kids by Diane Levin and Jean Kilbourne.
This section is one of the first that was so funny that I dog-eared the page:
“Hello,” I said to the doorman, a fat, grizzled old cuss with the kind of face you expect to see on a titty-bar sentry. He looked like he used to run a boat repair shop until Betty Anne divorced him, and well, you know how that goes.
“What do you want?” he asked me through his grayish whiskers. He looked like his kisses would taste like Bac-Os, or the sucked heads of crayfish. Something rank and saline.”
