Melange Books has released The Smell of Gas, an erotic, pulp-style crime thriller by your humble author and her husband Tit Elingtin. It's available now in print and e-book formats. I don't want to blog about it here, though. I already blogged about it today on Breaking In Before Breaking Down. I would rather blog about...breakfast.
It was a fine, sunny morning in my home town this morning, so Tit Elingtin walked over to our usual breakfast spot, then went on a 3-mile walk along the river. I had the pancake special, chocolate chip pancakes. Delicious. Along with the chunks of candy in my breakfast, I was also treated to a hunk of eye candy, a guy at a table across from us who looked just like Sam Worthington. (I wish I had a Hunk du Jour photo to link to, but somehow HdJ has managed to miss the Aussie stunner.) Well, almost just like - this guy's hair was a little redder.
Many of you will remember Sam Worthington from Avatar. I like to remember him from Terminator: Salvation, because, well, I just like to think about Christian Bale.
I also like to remember Sam Worthington's interpretation of MacBeth. Those who love Claire and Leo in the contemporary telling of Romeo + Juliet (may Pete Postlethwaite rest in peace - best Friar Laurence ever!) will enjoy the 2006 version of MacBeth starring Worthington. I like the sexy, redheaded Scottish witches. They're like a trio of soothsaying Shirley Mansons.
This weekend I have rented, but have not yet watched, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Undead. Should be a good one, though. It has Hamlet, vampires and a score by Sean Lennon. So far, the best film take I've seen on the Hamlet story remains Royal Deceit, with Gabriel Byrne, Kate Beckinsale and Christian Bale. Not just Christian Bale, but a NAKED TEENAGE Christian Bale. Best Shakespearean version? I like Ethan Hawke's attempt. Julia Stiles is a particularly charming Ophelia.
Do not get me started on the Mel Gibson version of Hamlet. I will no longer watch films with that anti-Semitic, misogynistic douchebag. Except maybe Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome; Mel is canceled out by Tina Turner, feminist icon supreme and possible reincarnation of ancient Egyptian woman-pharaoh Hatshepsut.
Sooooo anyway, Sam Worthington's redder-haired doppelganger sat in the restaurant, eating sausages off a fork in a way that would make an erotica writer with an active imagination think impure thoughts. In stepped a cute woman with a ponytail, approximately Sam 2's age, and I thought they would make a good couple. They would have adorable babies. Because, you know, babies are what you're supposed to be thinking about when it's a warm spring day, you're surrounded by egg and bunny decorations and everybody's getting ready to celebrate Ostara.
I would like to have some brilliant post connecting the Pagan celebration of Ostara with Jewish Passover and Christian Easter, since Passover was this week and it is Easter weekend. I don't. I have this, a post blogged by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. (I promise you a worthy Beltane post on May 1.) Buy a copy of The Smell of Gas!