Goodwilliam

My mom loves to shop at thrift stores, which is a trait that happens to have been passed down to me. Something else that has been passed my way thanks to one of her recent outings is a HUGE book of the complete works of Shakespeare. This thing is seriously over 1500 pages long, and large enough to create a makeshift solar eclipse. I already have a book of Shakespeare’s complete works, but didn’t have the heart to tell my mom, and so now I have two. As for what I’m going to do with this new one, I have a couple of options in mind.

1.) Figure out how to use it as a defense mechanism.

OR

 2.) Purchase a housecoat, a home perm and a cd of someone playing the fife; put all my purchases into effect; and lock myself in my bedroom immersed in shakespeare and the regret of not locking myself near proper plumbing. If this option is the one I go with, people may try to intervene. If that should happen, I will protest and repeatedly say words like ’tis and hither. Ultimately I will surrender when the people running the intervention point out that the book, which will be on my lap, is cutting off the circulation to my legs due to it’s weight. I’ll realize how goofy I would look in a housecoat if I didn’t have any legs, and will promptly throw up my arms in abandon and sigh heavily. The group will heave my book out a window and crush a firetruck that will be parked by the curb. I will be reduced to a woman with a home perm, a fife cd, and the lost life of a dalmation on her conscience. Later, I’ll find comfort upon realizing that I still have one party pizza left in my freezer – which I will have newfound access to. I will offer my pizza to the intervention group, and then eat all of it by myself while they sit in my livingroom. I might not even bake it first.

If you can think of any other options for me I’d be pleased to hear them. In the meantime I’ll just assume you’re going to push for option #2 and get a headstart by calling the firestation. It’s probably best they’re over here anyways.