So all them youngsters have been screaming and squealing over the upcoming Twilight movie.  Me being extremely pompous and enjoying being able to say "the book was so much better than the movie", I was forced to read the series, so I could sound smart and cool and stuff with the under 21 crowd.  Here is my twilight timeline.  Twimeline:

Twilight:

- first three chapters:  I immediately realize that this book is very poorly written.  Unfortunately at this point I have already injected this 498 page rock of literary crack into my veins and CANNOT STOP READING.  I'm mainlining vampires and suddenly . . .

three hours later . . .

-it's four o'clock in the fucking morning.  I have to get up at seven, but I'm engaged in the vicious cycle of addiction.  I read a chapter.  Then I try to sleep.  But as I try to sleep I wonder what's going to happen to that bitch, Bella, and more importantly, my entirely imagined mental image of her fictionally over-attractive vampire boyfriend.  I become restless with anxiety over the fate of someone that doesn't exist, whose species doesn't even exist, so I do what an addict does, dusting the imaginary bugs off my arms and cook up another hotrail of twilight.

another three hours later . . .

-fuck my life.  I have three chapters left, and got at best a half hour of sleep.  I don't even enjoy reading this anymore.  I've never managed to be simultaneously bored and riveted before, except for maybe the first time I saw the Blair Witch Project.  

that night . . .

-i finished the book.  strange.  I should feel satisfied, but I feel empty.  What would have satiated my Vampire lust before no longer fills the fang-sized void in my soul.  I seem to have built up a tolerance to Twilight.  I must switch to hard-covered books now.  Longer books.  Like New Moon . . . and Eclipse . . . and someday, maybe . . . Breaking Dawn.