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July 25, 2013 / bpeveril


Every so often, I wish that I had a book club to go to. But then I think of a room full of middle aged androgynous drones sipping tea and discussing something boring that only half of them read and I’m over it.

I want a book club where people are passionate and loud, the arguments drag on into the night, and it’s over when it’s broken up by a drunken fist fight. Is that too much to ask?

Why aren’t there more people like me?


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