My book received a review recently of mixed adoration. (By that I mean mixed with things that aren't adoration.) Among other things, some good, some snarky, the anonymous reviewer wrote that for those who enjoy "soliloquies on poopy diapers" it's a great read.
Well, this is lucky indeed for me. Because. News Flash. Get the Cameras Rolling.
MANY OF US DO ENJOY "SOLILOQUIES ON POOPY DIAPERS."
But who are those crazy, improper, tasteless, trashy people? And why aren't they busy reading great literature? What could lead a person to be entertained by such a senseless, meaningless, disgusting topic?
Could these scary people really be the mothers and women among us? Come now, Shakespeare made comedy without resorting to a poopy diaper monologue.
But then, undoubtedly, he never changed one.
(P.S. This blog is so radically countercultural that POOPY does not even appear in my computer's spell check. Cool!)