it's a thousand pages give or take a few

as i've probably said before, i believe that the world's great masters will see to it that one day i will be recalled in song, poems and statues.

not just one or the other. all three.

i've not said that to any of you? seriously? huh. well, make a note now. and for those of you with the skills, start composing those odes and chipping away at the marble. great masterpieces take effort and you really should pace yourselves.

however, because i like to think i have held onto a smidgen of my writing ability and have an "in" at a bookstore, my hope was to have a hand in the creation of my autobiography. purely because i'd like to ensure the facts are accurate (no, i never married impulsively and then divorced quickly, paying off my one true love never to speak of our indiscretion. i've never had a stint or five in rehab. there are no questionable photographs of me floating around out there...).

i wanted to tell my rags to rags story and handpick the photos used for the book jacket to ensure the publishers capture my best features (and we all know what those include, and we are stunned, actually, at how i've not mentioned that feature - or would they be 'features'? - in quite awhile now). i was positive that one day, the world would truly want to know all about me and oprah would go off the deep end by pimping my tome on her show.

anyway, i got to work last night and stopped in my tracks when i discovered that someone else had decided my story should be told now. apparently, the public has been clamoring for it, the insight into what makes me tick. i've just been too busy blogging to pay attention.

and i suppose i could be irritated that i wasn't consulted. that i didn't have a say in things. but honestly, i think the author truly captured the essence of what i'm about.

see for yourself.



honestly? i have to say, i'm pretty pleased with what they've done for me. much more poetically then i ever could have. the title alone sums me up reasonably well. it would seem to sell it. but truly, after reading the title, you almost don't even have to read the book, and where would that get me in my potential legal fight for royalities?

the cover artwork - a lovely silhouette montage - does capture my many wonderful moods. flirty. capricious. captivating. and always on the lookout for something or someone upon which to administer my titled abilities. at least based on that look captured on the far right.

i'm just a bit disappointed they opted to showcase the legs rather than my other kick ass attribute (attributes?), but what can you do when you lose your say?

(there's me bringing back that which i've not mentioned in awhile, btw. hello, beautifuls).

perhaps i'll regain my say with the already planned follow-up...



should you be interested in these reads, i should reiterate that i do work for a respectable, publicly traded corporation. it's not the type of book and novelty store where we request to look at your driver's license for any other reason than if you opt to pay by check.

but, because i'm a nymphomaniacal bloodsucker, i have to say i dig those kinds of stores, too, and i'm so going to request that they carry my life story the next time i visit one.