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From Fort Myers, Florida USA
Joined Saturday, July 7, 2012
Recent Book Activity
4 weeks all time
books registered 0 3,129
released in the wild 0 274
controlled releases 0 4,123
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Extended Profile
Guy who is still actively doing one of the rarest professions in the world:



“Maybe Heaven will be a library. Then I will be able to finish my to-read list.”

― Kellie Elmore


We are ever the wishful thinkers, aren't we? XD


Ha Ha! This is SOOOOOOOOOOOOO true:


"The worst thing about new books is that they keep us from reading the old ones."

-Joseph Joubert

"I love being a writer. What I can't stand is the paperwork."

Peter De Vries



My bookshelf reflects the tastes of other people on this site, as I grant a lot of people's WL books....

I say this because I play in a lot of Sweeps and I've had the issue where people have sent me books based on my bookshelf genres and not my WL genres and I DON'T read: Murders/Mysteries/Serial Killer Memoirs-Studies or Horror. So when I'm sent these books, I make sure to find them a good home, but I won't read them and that seems a waste.

Not trying to be rude, but it's hard when you keep getting books in the exact genres that you won't read. (Yes, I realize they're popular genres, but I can't stand them)


Lately, I've been joining birthday groups and whatnot and they like to know what other things I might like, that kind of thing. This is Not for the wishlist Tag Game but for the other types of games:

~Tarot / Oracle Cards (I'm way into those right now! ;) )

~Wish List Books (especially Manga! :D )

~Drawings of hands (especially hands doing something!)

-Handmade ornaments! (I adore stuff other people make)

~Short Story that you yourself have written

~Sparkly Earrings (I was clearly a magpie in a previous life ;D )

~Tell me about the funniest personal stories you have

-Chatty letters about anything and everything! Strange ideas you’ve had and random thoughts are welcome here!!

-Old keys! Not like the modern ones that all look alike but those old skeleton keys or the wind up keys for things like clocks. I love those!

-A letter telling me about the craziest idea you’ve ever had. And if you went through with it, what happened and do you regret it? Or relish it?

~Tea! I especially like the David’s Tea (even just small samples or enough to make one pot would be wonderful, just label it so I know which one I’m trying!  )

~Chocolate with nuts (us nuts have to stick together lol )

-If you have any candy that’s unique to your country, I’d love to try it!

~Poetry you've written

-Stationary paper that you’ve MADE into stationary paper! (What I mean is, take blank paper and decorate the edges for me however you want, drawings, stamps, etc: for me to use to write someone!!)

-Of course I could always use BC supplies but I especially favor the ones people make themselves. I love the creativity!! You guys rock!

~A burned cd or maybe a YouTube link to the strangest song you've ever heard

~Art that you've handmade (with a written explanation of what it means to you)

~Anything related to, or from, Japan (because I'm having a not so secret love affair with it right now) he he

~Random surprises! Especially if they’re flat out odd!

Sorry, my list is as odd as me. But if you're up to it, toss me something from it! :D

"It shouldn't make any difference, but Friday and Saturday nights are the worst. They're the worst because the loneliness is magnified. The best you can do is hope that there is someone else like you out there, but if there is, you will never meet this person because she doesn't get out either.

So you're left with your thoughts, and your thoughts are living people in your brain who call and hang up and lounge around like armed security guards who happen to be beautiful. In between these thoughts, you think about what's going on out there. The girl of your dreams is being ravaged by a man who doesn't have a care in the world. Just to hear her voice would make you happy for a week, but he gets to spend the day and night with her and thinks nothing of it.

Somewhere across town there is laughter and fun and something that resembles kindness and love. There are people having a good time, not watching the clock, not wanting to sleep. Sleep is all that feels good. Sleep feels like a little death. Those tiny hours in the morning when everyone is asleep are the only ones that don't feel lonely. But for now, there are boyfriends and girlfriends, people in love, wide awake. They hang out. They hang out. They hang out. They do nothing worthwhile except each other. Friends, friends, friends. Fiends. Inside jokes. There are so many stupid conversations going on right now. You could be having a meaningful conversation with a taxi driver. You could talk to him about how Travis Bickle's taxi was a metaphor for loneliness. You are not missed. If you aren't being thought of by a single mind on Earth, do you really exist? Chad will always exist. They make plans so easily. They don't debate over dialing numbers. Bleak house.

You have a gray tint on your contact lenses. But you have your work. They don't have that. They are cowards. Everyone seems so afraid to be alone. It takes strength to lie there alone and take it. They just want to copulate, and that's their biggest concern of the night. You want a tragedy. An assassination. A massacre. An earthquake. A city falling to the ground. Something to get the people on TV to be on the same page as you."

"I'm a sensitive guy who can feel when he's being videotaped and sympathize with urinal cakes. At least I've got grace in this homemade pair of contact lenses composed of pure love. With the aritificial vision they provide, I can see all the girls wearing Freudian slips underneath their dresses, wrapping their bra straps around moonlit skyscrapers.

I can also see what they look at instead of me. It is a handsome boy who has never had a worry in his life. He fingers his belt buckle with one hand and arm wrestles with the other, grunting and struggling to reduce his opponent to barbecued pulp. Neither he nor she honors me with the time of day, yet I allow them to pace hand in hand around the inside of my head. And me, I stand off to the side with my back to the wall, thinking to hold her would be apocalypse in my arms.

I'm left with words, for better or worse, to stuff into bullets or wad in my purse, but I can't help but feel like an air traffic controller with delusions of grandeur, safely landing suicide missions on paper runways, turning my future hair prematurely gray, thinking wordy thoughts, accomplishing so much but not getting out nearly enough."

-Two excerpts from pages 129-130 & 83, of the book 'Torture the Artist' by Joey Goebel.

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