Book Report: Deep Secret
In Which Your Humble Blogger accedes to the request to make this Tohu Bohu less engaging by catching up on Book Reports.
In Which Your Humble Blogger accedes to the request to make this Tohu Bohu less engaging by catching up on Book Reports.
In Which Your Humble Blogger gets the freude, and that’s just too damn schade.
In Which Your Humble Blogger finds a lump of coal. Jolly good! Just what he was looking for, down the mine.
In Which Your Humble Blogger goes ahead and makes a prediction, for no good reason and to no good purpose.
In Which Your Humble Blogger makes it all about him, and his experience of a thing, which is how it should be, because, after all, me. Me I me me, my me me; me me me, my me, me me myself.
In Which Your Humble Blogger likes a book, which happens more often than you think.
In Which Your Humble Blogger’s dead body shall be for meat unto the fowls of the heaven, and to the beasts of the earth, already.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is killed by Martians, but recovers, mostly.
In Which Your Humble Blogger finally gives up and writes a thing that he has been thinking, despite the thing not being, you know, true or anything.
In Which Your Humble Blogger complains, because it still hurts to swallow, although the fever is gone.