Crashbox

As if sitting for hours in a hidden corner of Auntie's---a very comfortable four-story bookstore in Spokane---covertly reading because I can't afford to buy a damn book wasn't bad enough, I was reading a children's book! Surrounded by noble tomes of deep and ancient wisdom, I sat there all night and read the first two books of A Series of Unfortunate Events. Now I must admit that I have a great weakness for that rather worn-out and over-done genre: A small family of children, usually orphans, who go to live somewhere new and encounter all sorts of strange characters and unique adventures. These books (the ones I was reading) are particularly silly; if fact, my opinion of the author is that he is narrow-minded, arrogant, spottily educated, and tremendously annoying. However, I became (and I am ashamed to admit it), hooked. I will not be satisfied until I have the whole series, and this a woeful circumstance indeed...Ah well. It's nice to reading again. And sometimes it such a relief to read something light, funny and ridiculously delightful. Soon I will find my way back Auntie's and finish the rest...how miserable