danalwyn

I imagine that the city fathers of Chicago hate me.

I imagine that their conversations go something like this:

City Father 1: You know who I hate? People like [danAlwyn]
City Father 2: Yeah, they're a bunch of bastards. All they do is sit around and try not to spend money.
CF1: And without that money, our diabolical plan to keep all city streets in a state of permanent construction is doomed to fail.
CF2: I have a clever plan! We'll rope off a city street or two, call it a festival or something, and then we'll fill it with an incredible number of folding tables loaded with used books at bargain prices!
CF1: And then after they spend their money, they'll spend the rest of the day hauling around huge, heavy bags of books and give themselves sore backs!
CF2: It's perfectly diabolical!
Together: BWAHAHAHAHAHA

So you can tell how my Sunday went.

( Plunder List )

Fun Physics Fact: The number of books you have scattered in piles around your domicile because you have nowhere else to put them is a constant irregardless of the number of bookcases, shelves, and other storage devices you assemble and fill to capacity.

I'm beginning to understand people who hate books and want to burn them. Although in my case I want to burn down the stores that sell them.

I mean, they look all pretty and harmless and stuff, but you go in them, and then you go home, and you're like "Hey, why is all my money gone? Also, where did all these books come from?" Obviously something bad happens when I'm in bookstores, and my life would probably be simpler (and wealthier) if they were all gone.

Seriously, I spent sixty dollars on books this week. What the hell am I doing?