"I'm offended-please pass the mashed potatoes"

Securing HoLiDaY GuEsT INFAMY 🍷⚰️☠️

Hello, beautiful Muses!

It is I-sashaying into your inbox like a delightful confection: circa 90s Anna Sui Runway & your favorite 90s flick, you just can’t quit.

We.Are.BACK! And my oh my, do I have some belated holiday heirlooms for you to cherish

First things first: BOOKS YOU SHOULD BE READING…..

I’M A FAN-run. Don’t you dare walk RUN to your local library & put this ON HOLD. Or just buy the damn thing because there are treasures nestled in every line. Patel’s word choice appears effortless yet feels like a lollipop scraping the roof of your mouth. Painful-but you want MORE.

Sheena Patel, you clever little minx¹. How you’ve managed to compile the complexity of classism, unevolved power constructs layered with the tenuous (at best) existence of contorting oneself to a society that is a landmine of insincere pandering conversations around race!

I’ve been gobbling (gross visual-apologies) each page with feverish-slightly unwell abandon.

I love voyeuristic undertones in the digital age.

Yes, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

The orange rind bitterness of sinking your teeth into a new, semi-feral fixation.

Translation: Getting our stalk on (covertly, of course)

A great American pastime, basically up there with football and being forced to say the pledge of allegiance.²

Sorry, tangent- what can I say (apparently a lot)?

Back to Patel’s literary debut:

It is an unflinching look at the secretive yet universal pastime of how we (yes, even you, “cool guy”) can become ensnared, fixated, obsessed (in the most flattering way) with the object of our affections-other affections.