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Book Review: Sugar Nation

12 Sep

I just finished the scariest book I’ve read in a long time – and my husband writes horror, so that’s saying a lot. But this isn’t a ghost story or a psychological thriller. It’s a cautionary tale about a killer hiding among us; One so devious that he can slip in unnoticed, hiding in shadows while directing his cronies to kill on his behalf. Spoiler alert: The butler didn’t do it, it was diabetes. The book is Sugar Nation by Jeff O’Connell; Part memoir, part nutrition guide, and an entirely sobering wake up call.

Sweet n' scary.

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Primal Beauty: Who Wants to Smell Like a Dirty Hippie? *

26 Jul

(*This article in no way intends to assert that all hippies are dirty and smelly.  The author is referring only to specific hippies she has known in her lifetime.  However if you feel that you may be a dirty, smelly hippie, please know that there are other options available to you.  Thank you and enjoy the rest of the piece.)

I am definitely not the crunchy granola type.  I hate patchouli.  I love a good hike, communing with nature and all that – but by nightfall, get me back under my air conditioned, well lit, no “nature” allowed roof.  Dreadlocks always make me think of that old urban legend… You know the one, something about a girl who was bitten to death by spiders living in her ratted up hairdo.  Moral of the story?  She didn’t wash her hair, so take a shower and don’t stink up the place or a poisonous bug will take you down.  Of course, she wasn’t a hippie, she was a lazy bobbysoxer who didn’t want to re-tease her bouffant every day…but I’m sure there’s been a reboot of that legend at some point involving a Dead Head with dreads.  (Full disclosure:  I myself am a huge Grateful Dead fan and saw them in concert just before Jerry Garcia died.  But I wore a cute sundress and antiperspirant.  Whether or not I was high is irrelevant.)

OK, I may have gotten a little off-topic here, but I do have a point:  I’m all for the idea of going natural with my products, but at the end of the day I don’t wanna smell like I’ve gone a week at Woodstock without a bath.

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