We interrupt this broadcast...
No, Bookslut, no!
(I think I can safely speak for all the readers of this blog when I say that tonight's NBA Finals Game 7 makes literature seem insignificant, frivolous and worthless by comparison. Literature has the power to change lives blah blah blah, but there's one thing it doesn't have: Robert motherfucking Horry. Go Spurs.)
So he's right about the finals game, but my poor little heart can't take this news about Bookslut's basketball allegiance. And thus, from the other side of the book-reading, bastketball-watching table, I must say: GO PISTONS.
Back to lit-chat now.
PS. The Timberwolves are really my favorites. And I only really hate the Kings. And Shaq.
(I think I can safely speak for all the readers of this blog when I say that tonight's NBA Finals Game 7 makes literature seem insignificant, frivolous and worthless by comparison. Literature has the power to change lives blah blah blah, but there's one thing it doesn't have: Robert motherfucking Horry. Go Spurs.)
So he's right about the finals game, but my poor little heart can't take this news about Bookslut's basketball allegiance. And thus, from the other side of the book-reading, bastketball-watching table, I must say: GO PISTONS.
Back to lit-chat now.
PS. The Timberwolves are really my favorites. And I only really hate the Kings. And Shaq.
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