Brangelina makes me sick

Dammit! I knew it was a bad idea to see Mr. and Mrs. Smith. During the two-plus hours I sat in the theatre, my scratchy throat became a full-blown head cold. As I sat and sniffed and wondered just how Angelina and Brad found the caché of weapons at the Bed, Bath and Beyond, the cold germs were grouping and getting ready for full attack. So even though I was charmed by the love-hate romance and massive gunplay, I came out of the theatre a lesser woman.

I got the book. It's about a drug addict. So far, hardly the summer read I was hoping for.

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