(Regular reader numbering in the Ones, if you haven’t noticed it yet, my blog went through a snafu that resulted in all the posts from October 2013 onwards to vanish into the ether. So I’m just uploading all of these transcripts without any garnishing because I barely remember what I wrote back then.)
Since National Book Store is made up of rainbows and unicorns and cotton candy, they didn’t just give me one Christmas present, but three.
And they’re not just your ordinary books either.
I like to think that these bitches are throwing some serious sarcastic shade, because the only other option is horrifying: People actually think Becca Fitzpatrick’s “Crescendo” is a good book, and that I am actually living in Bizarro World.