Complete and utter rubbish
I have just five words of advice for all you Amazon shoppers: do not buy this book. I mean it. Even if you don't believe me when I tell you how bad it is, and you insist on reading it, don't buy it. Borrow it from a friend or take it out from the library (if you absolutely must). This drivel doesn't even deserve your time let alone your money or shelf space. Judging from this book alone, Candace Bushnell is a horrible author. I've yet to read 'Sex and the City', but I love the show. If that novel is anything like this trash, I'll have no choice other than to stay away. Not only is every character blonde, Bushnell must have run out of ideas because every character is either a model, an actor, a writer, or a business person. Oh, and they're all addicted to cocaine, like it's normal to be carrying around a vial of coke. It's sick, really.

As you may or may not be aware, 'Four Blondes' is not a novel about (as the title suggests) four blondes. Rather, it's four short stories about four different blondes. The first two stories are complete wastes of time. In fact, if I were you, I wouldn't even bother with those two. Even if you've already taken the time to take the book out from the library. Of course, if you've taken the time to visit the library and pick this trash up, you've obviously decided against heeding my adive anyway, in which case, you may as well go ahead and continue to ignore me. The second two stories arn't much better than the first, but I found them to be the lesser of two (or in this case, four) evils.

The first story is about an ex-model named Janey Wilcox. She's a manipulative sleaze who cares about no one except herself. She also loves using men for their summer homes in the Hamptons, and doesn't even care if she dispises these men, she'll still sleep with them. Janey is shallow, vain, and wants to do "something" with her life (here's an idea, get a job you trashy, evil woman). She loves ruining other people's lives and then expects them to, not only care, but actually come running to her aid when she's managed to dig herself into a situation she could have avoided if she was a decent human being. She hates her sister, Patty, because Patty's successful, happy, and a good person. I liked Patty. Usually, arn't readers supposed to like the primary, rather than the secondary, characters?

The second story is about Winnie and James Dieke. They're a married couple who never should have gotten married in the first place. You think Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson are a match made in I-can't-believe-how-unbelievably-stupid-spoiled-and-
annoying-we-are Heaven? Well, then you've never been introduced to the Diekes. They're both journalists and, basically, they hate each other. Winnie is over-controlling, and wants desperately to be successful and famous, whilst James has basically given up on life and is annoyingly frightened of everything. He's a wimp, a pushover, and an all around lazy guy. He's terrified that Winnie will leave him (oh, how will he go on without her telling him how to put on his socks!?), but she won't because she's still determined that being married to him with further her career. Oh, did I mention they have a son? Probably not, since they basically pay him no attention, and his name is never even mentioned in their story. What great people the Diekes are!

The third story is about Princess Cecelia. She's a self-absorbed snob who acts horribly to everyone, even her husband, Hubert. She seems to think she's head and shoulders above everyone else in the world because she's managed to marry the Prince of Luxenstein. She's basically insane. No, seriously. She's completely paranoid and is convinced her family is trying to kill her. She treats her husband like scum, even though he does absolutely nothing wrong. She's jealous of every other woman who's ever been in Hubert's life, and is convinced he's having an affair. She relies on other people for, basically, everything. And, even when they're trying to help her, she's discustingly rude. She does whatever she wants, whenever she wants, and when she doesn't get her way she complains about it, and acts like an idiotic snot.

The last story is the shortest, which is unfortunate because it's the least offensive of the lot. It's about a journalist who refers to herself simply as "grasshopper". She writes for a magazine, answering women's questions about sex. She's been sent to England to compare the sex-lives of Londoners with those of New Yorkers. She basically meets a lot of different people, has different conversations with both men and women, and picks up alot of different veiwpoints on different ideas and beliefs. This story isn't funny, but it's hilarious compared to the first three (in case you were thinking this entire book was going to be a "laughfest").

Well, I obviously don't recommend this book, as I've made perfectly clear. If I had to (and by that, I mean, if I was forced at gunpoint, because there's no other way I'd ever willfully open this garbage again) read it again, I think I'd start from the end. That way, if I somehow died halfway through, I wouldn't have had to read those first two again. I'm going to warn you all one more time: STAY AWAY!

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