(no subject)

Oh, Gould's. Your filth, your overpriced crap, your aisles strangled with tottering clutter, your sad gestures at organisation, your general contempt for books bred by an overstock problem which only a horde of mice could cure (no hope, they've got a cat) - you call to me. Or to the sad, mad GLA part of my little mind which thinks it can save you by moving all the copies of The Bull of Minos to the same shelf. (Some poor devil determinedly keeps the SF section in tip-top order and cleanliness. My hat is off to you, sir, madam, or other. I rescued a Hal Clement from the UFOs in honour of you.)

(no subject)

Having a setback.