In Which Your Humble Blogger talks about Samuel the Small without making any dick jokes. Although you knew I was thinking them, so I suppose that doesn’t count.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is cranky, and cranks.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is, inevitably, reminded of the seventies joke about the old bean who decided to emigrate before they made it compulsory. Peppers, that is.
In Which Your Humble Blogger has four votes, and is not afraid to use them.
In Which Your Humble Blogger isn’t seriously proposing to play in this format, but is rather just observing that YHB is thinking of a B, that’s all.
In Which Your Humble Blogger says something, I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is still a dozen books behind. I mean. Isn’t there somebody out there I can blame for this? Charlie Rangel? Brian Sabean? Prydwen Elfed-Owens?
In Which Your Humble Blogger wonders if you can tell he’s been on the road all week, and just stacked up some book reports to keep this Tohu Bohu looking like it was still breathing.
In Which Your Humble Blogger talks about two different things.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is amazed, simply amazed at the quantity of different P&P spinoffs, sequels, parodies and ancillary consumer products available in the local bookstore.