Monday, November 18, 2013

Coke, my sister Leilani, and 50 shades of cray


Two Belgian professors tested the 10 most borrowed books in the Atwerp public library, and found traces of the herpes virus on a copy of erotic novel Fifty Shades of Grey.

Just goes to prove real women don't write trashy porn novels, they ride 'em.

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And get this: all 10 books tested positive for traces of cocaine. Significant enough for anyone handling the books to test positive for the drug, but not enough to get high on.

A link to the news story from Time.

http://newsfeed.time.com/2013/11/14/professors-test-fifty-shades-of-grey-library-book-find-it-has-traces-of-herpes/
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It is November 18, 2013, exactly six years from the day (and time: 10:35 pm) that my sister Leilani died. "Bing will have to get along without me," she said, a day or two before. She didn't want me slopping around in grief, but I did, living in a repeating reel of her final hours, 24/7, for the next few years. This year, I want to celebrate her funny, irreverent, off-beat spirit. Hence, the post above.

I can imagine she would have found the link first, then showed it to me. Then she would have roared with laughter at my quip: "Real men don't write trashy novels, they wear them." Soon after, one of us would have come up with the clincher: "Real women don't write trashy erotic novels, they ride 'em."

We were like that. Cray-cray. In a good way. We made each other laugh. I got my sense of comedy from her. I was the fast-talking stand-up, she the appreciative audience of one.

My sister Leilani posing with entertainer Sam Milby at the PSBank Christmas party, 2006.

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