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I quit reading five different books yesterday. You'd think this would be fodder for another "I can in fact quit you" tagged post, but most of it was just tired stuff--poor prose, sexism, stuff I've ranted about before and do not need to do another chorus of.
But there was one thing. One author was giving us his character's thoughts. And the character thought: No! No!! No!!!
And I thought: no. Quick flowchart of choices: are you 12 years old? And has the calendar year passed Anno Domini 1922? If so, don't do that. If not...still don't do that, but we'll maybe excuse you.
Today is my 33 1/3 birthday. My first third of a century! I am going to have an ice cream cone. Well, and a new dishwasher I didn't really want, but these things happen. The ice cream part is the birthday part.
But there was one thing. One author was giving us his character's thoughts. And the character thought: No! No!! No!!!
And I thought: no. Quick flowchart of choices: are you 12 years old? And has the calendar year passed Anno Domini 1922? If so, don't do that. If not...still don't do that, but we'll maybe excuse you.
Today is my 33 1/3 birthday. My first third of a century! I am going to have an ice cream cone. Well, and a new dishwasher I didn't really want, but these things happen. The ice cream part is the birthday part.
