A blog by a basset hound named Ernest puppy who is making the lives of two people in Seattle very happy and one day hopes to run for public office.
E, it happens.From 1989 to 2000, I routinely collected library books at the end of each schoool semester, from my daughter's closet, under the bed, wherever. I would take at least two grocery sacks of books back to whatever school library she was attending, after hours, incognito. Leave 'em. She considered the library her personal domain. Now she is getting her masters in library science. Go figure. I see it as the definition of irony.So eat away, my friend. I will personally spot you on the fines...mony
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