Chick Flick Saturday night
It’s Chick Flick Saturday night and I’m home alone watching Bridget Jones Diary, oh for about the 20th time. Now there’s a book that doesn’t do the film justice, but how can you have Colin Firth in a book. What do you expect from a woman who spent the afternoon vacuum cleaner shopping with her husband and is ecstatic about a new bagless cyclonic hepa filter vacuum cleaner that picks up pet hair. Believe me with three dogs and one cat there is plenty of pet hair.
So with all the talk about movies never equalling the book, I think there are plenty of movies that are better than the book. Does anyone else think that, or do I just have Chick Flick euphoria?
