Yesterday I visited the bookstore as I finished the other three. I spent about 45 minutes in search of the perfect novel. I asked about Naked Pictures of Famous People. Totally sold out. I completely brain-farted about Cat’s Eye until I got home (typical movie store, music store, bookstore move, forgetting everthing upon entering). I was in search of a brainwash
swish swish
cleansing after finishing that book, “Good in Bed” (which I refuse to link for fear that someone might actually buy it—if you must waste your time, I would love to waste some of mine and send it too you). This next book… it has to be good, or at the very least, decent. If it’s as bad as the last one, I might lose my reading streak. And I am rather enjoying it. Toby said,
Just put it down if it sucks.”
But like that last bit of cake on new-employee day, I must finish even a bad book. This time I left the store with Rick Moody’s, Demonology and Francines Prose’s, Blue Angel. I will go back for the rest. I will write them all down this time, backwards written, on my forehead.


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