the bookshelf that flushes

July 24, 2009
Bathroom reading! Some people find it disgusting. For others it's a small pleasure of life, a refuge from the tumult of day to day existence.

Recently I decided to press the reset button on the material I had at hand in there... My bathroom library was as follows:
It wasn't quite as much as it might look like here, two neat stacks standing on edge. The preponderence of WW2 and video game stuff is due in part to the proximity of their normal bookshelf to the bathroom. (Also it's stuff that's interesting in small doses.)

Any volunteers to describe their bathroom library in the comments? Or is it still all just old Calvin and Hobbes and Bloom Counties?

(As for the "ick" and "well I'm never borrowing a book from HIM" factors... I dunno. I suspect if you start going down the road of uptightness beyond washing your hands after using the bathroom, it's a slippery slope to starting to freak out how many insect bits per gallon are allowed in foods, or about the eyebrow mites we all carry, or the intestinal bacteria that help us all out, and 1,000 other ways where things we think of as relatively pristine are really quite icky.)

Random anecdote: my dad grew up rural enough to remember some places where the Sears Roebuck catalog served as a combination of toilet paper and reading material (maybe for an outhouse at the cousins' farm?) There was a specified order to which sections of the catalog got torn out first; I think it started with shoes.

Trees and grass are looking so green. Is that because all the rainwater "lets" them be, or they desperately reaching to use any sun they can?
After a spring and half a summer of sandals, socks and shoes (for a business meeting) feels like swaddling clothes.
- The Horribly Slow Murderer with the Extremely Inefficient Weapon