I’m still on the Ian Rankin Rebus series. For the third time I have gone to the Emmet O’Neal Library for one of the books. This time it’s Black and Blue. For the third time the book I borrowed is stained with food. Who are you ahead of me, book borrower? How do you reconcile your excellent taste in reading materials with your obvious and disturbing slobbery? As chronicled on these electronic pages, you have defiled the non-electronic pages of Mr. Rankin’s works with what is assumed to be deviled egg, popcorn kernels and the grease associated with, and now, chocolate? Smears of brown with no oily rings around them. Could be blood I suppose, but that’s not your M.O.
On a happy note, my literary food hankerings continue unabated. I had fish & chips last night with the praised and exalted London Pub Sauce. Reading is fulfilling.
On a related word that is not “note” because I don’t want to mirror the beginning of the previous paragraph, I mentioned that I wanted to read a book upside down (the book, not me) so as to be able to truthfully say that I on occasion read books upside down if I am ever caught in a situation where I had to grab a book and pretend to be reading instead of doing whatever nefariousities I was actually engaged in. I could save precious book righting time as well as remaining nonplussed no matter what the orientation. I have chosen Burning Chrome by William Gibson for the short length (204 pages) and relatively large print. I hope that it contains a multiplicity of “o”s, “x”s, and “l”s but really can’t check for that without first reading it, so I’m leaving hope to the wind and provenance be mine etc.