The librarian at the Club where I borrow books from was naturally pertrubed by my proclamation that I was tired of the superficial and wanted to READ. He was more worried than ever when I marched over to him holding about two thousand five hundred pages in my hands. Okay, we all know me, I held them for about two seconds before I started to tilt to one side from the weight and he chivalrously came to my rescue.
'How long are you in town?' he asked, discreetly as he began the laborious process of checking the books out for me.
'Oh, I'll get done with these by tomorrow and come take more.' I responded beaming.
It's like I'm twelve again and just discovered my one true love. Reviews coming shortly - maybe. When you're in the mood to read, writing seems superfluous.
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