Dear Nicholas Sparks: You, unlike any other male on the planet, have tapped into the female psyche with your tear-jerking love stories. Despite the nauseatingly sweet plot lines and schmaltz, I can't help borrowing all your books from my mom.
However, the movie adaptations end up being even sappier. (i.e. "A Walk to Remember," "The Notebook.") I'm afraid for your new movie "Dear John." (I haven't read the book yet.) I like Channing Tatum and Amanda Seyfried. I like war-torn lovers. But this movie looks, well, just call your agent ASAP.
Sincerely, FlipSide
P.S. Can I pick up a hot guy if I drop my purse in an ocean, river, creek, my bathtub?
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