I unfortunately do my laundry in a laundromat about two miles away from my apartment, in Aurora.  Annoying.  The upside is that there is a $2 bookstore next door owned by a cute little Jewish fellow.  One day during my 32 minute wash cycle, I browsed the “Classics” section.  I like to keep up with the classics so as to uphold my smarty-pants façade.  I came across “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” by D.H. Lawrence.  I had yet to have a Lawrence novel on my list…and it was $4 (contrary to the store’s name).  When I got home and decided to look into it, I discovered the naughtiness I was about to read.  I was intrigued.  I love banned books.  That’s gotta make them good, right?  There were some less than stellar reviews, but a classic is a classic, and I wanted to judge the naughtiness for myself.  

It took me a painfully LONG time to finish this book.  I won’t lie, I was bored.  It had its moments, but not many.  Between the naughty parts, of which there were a few, it was a long-winded social and political statement that went a little over my head and I didn’t so much care.  I wanted a dirty love story.  I’m no stranger of crass language, but there were some doozies in this one.  A little too many so that I didn’t so much care for Lady Chatterley or her lover.  Like I said, it had its moments, but finishing this one was a triumph for me.  In fact, I believe that when I finished, I threw up my arms and said “yes!”  

No offense to Mr. Lawrence.  I commend his before-his-timeness, but I was quite excited to move on to Russell Brand’s Booky Wook.