Dana, you saved others from the horrible books.

That's what Micole keeps telling me. But it's still kind of traumatic.

I also know that the used bookstore will not give me shit for these other books, which is kind of miffy-making. But I just need to let them go.

I've been known to leave books on the stoop or somewhere where people walking by might take them....I figure they might become trash, but maybe someone would take them.

No one should read these books, even by accident.

Come scootin' in San Francisco if unpacking wearies you. I can't guarantee tequila, but somehow we will make our own fun.

Ooh, now that does sound fun. Maybe we can go do something silly.

Ooops, I was thinking of The Lockhorns but wrote The Bickersons, which also works but oh well.

No one should read these books, even by accident.

Then what you are doing is purely a community service.

I've been known to leave books on the stoop or somewhere where people walking by might take them....I figure they might become trash, but maybe someone would take them.

This is me. Books too beat up for the library become Bookcrossing books, and get left in a box either at the landromat or a bus stop. I figure at least I've given them a chance. (I physically can't throw away books. Even books that really really suck. I've tried, and I just can't do it.)

I'm gonna post this without comment: How to organize an orgy

I physically can't throw away books. Even books that really really suck. I've tried, and I just can't do it

This. Maybe the laundromat route is the best. There's one a couple of blocks from my house, but it seems much farther away because it's not a direction I normally walk in. Psychic space is bigger than physical space.

It's interesting how laundromats turn into community centers.

VM: I'm still thinking Aaron Echolls is the killer for the same reasons laid out above. But I'm also thinking that it may be too easy. Still, holy shit, all around. The convolution of Veronica's life is so screwed up that it sounds almost soap-operatic when you describe it ("Yeah, she's a kid detective who was a former popular girl who became a pariah when her best friend was murdered and her father accused the parents, who also happen to be the richest family and head of the largest employer in town, and Veronica's searching for the killer, who may or may not be her ex-boyfriend, who also may or may not be her half-brother, who she slept with while drugged and thought she'd been raped. She's currently seeing her dead best friend's ex-boyfriend, who also may or may not hate her, who has an abusive father and a suicide mother. Her own mother ran off shortly after her father lost his job (I didn't mention that?), and has just returned home in time to destroy her father's happiness. Oh yeah, her dad's seeing her sorta-best friend's mother. And that sorta-best friend is about to dump her ass 'cause she's been lying to him about her illicit relationship with the guy who may or may not hate her. Is that clear?") That the show's writers have made it work is some kind of sheer brilliance.

TAR: Why is it that the jerks are always the ones savvy enough to look for better tickets? I was sorta in favor of Rob & Amber for a while, mainly because I didn't think they would win, but, in light of the fact that the network just keeps giving them stuff and that Rob's gone from jokey-playing-an-asshole-to-amuse-people into no-really-I'm-just-an-ass, I would hate to see them win. And Ron & Kelly just suck for many, many reasons.

In other news, I may have a problem with becoming overinvested in tv shows.

Maybe the laundromat route is the best.

I've both picked up and dropped off books in a laundromat that I would have been too ashamed to buy/sell at a used bookstore. Like, I have a book of poetry by Dag Hammarskjold (yes, the deceased former secretary-general of the UN), that reads like vogon poetry. I picked it up in the laundry room of a building I used to live in. Completely unmemorable potboiler-thriller-romances (I think) books that my sister or mother have left in my house have been left by me in laundry rooms.

Thank goodness for them. It burns my soul to throw books away, even other people's crap books.