Bleachy-Haired Honky Bleep

I'm reading a screamingly hilarious book right now called "Bleachy-Haired Honky Bitch." It's a sassy memoir with a title that would be banned and buried if the MPAA had any say in the matter. Instead it sold faster than sunscreen during the summer of 2004 and I'm just finally catching up on the trend now. Author Hollis Gillespie writes an epithet laden with more color, candor and self-deprecating wit than a major league sports columnist . She has an ear for the ridiculous and writes several crazy profane memoirs of her dysfunctional family and friends. Jen Joy insisted I read it on the flight to Russia but the book is so loaded down with levity that my laughing annoyed the other passengers. The shock value of her books is deserving of undivided attention so read it away from impressionable children, cranky mothers, holier-than-thou zealots and yes, even flight attendants. Not only is Gillespie a meaningful writer but an airline stewardess as well.