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So, I am an idiot.
A couple of weeks ago my brother expressed an interest in one of my favorite books. (To Say Nothing of the Dog, for those of you playing at home.) I love when people I love read books I love and so I let him borrow it. It came back to me with the cover half torn off, and the binding on the back peeling away.
And yet, despite this, I let him borrow another book. I knew what was going to happen, and I still let him do it.
And now my copy of Queen of Sorcery has a big tear in the spine.
I want to get mad at him and yell and throw things, because, dammit, I don't scratch up his X-box disks when I play them, and he knows how anal I am about my books. But I got myself into this situation by letting him borrow another book after he gave me back the previous one in crap condition.
I can has apartment now?
And yet, despite this, I let him borrow another book. I knew what was going to happen, and I still let him do it.
And now my copy of Queen of Sorcery has a big tear in the spine.
I want to get mad at him and yell and throw things, because, dammit, I don't scratch up his X-box disks when I play them, and he knows how anal I am about my books. But I got myself into this situation by letting him borrow another book after he gave me back the previous one in crap condition.
I can has apartment now?
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