Happy late round up, friends and foes. I'd promise it's going to be a good one, but you never know. You just don't. What I do know is that there's an on sale date for the next George R.R. Martin book. Does that actually mean anything? No one knows! If you need to practice reading huge amounts of text, maybe you should do a Bible readathon, even if all of the booty has been removed. If you're not interested, or you're like 30% of teens (and so only read one to two books a year), you might want to start with something less taxing, like selected Charlie Sheen poetry. It exists, I swear.
Are your books sick? Maybe they need to see a book surgeon. (And if anyone is in the market for a present for me, I'd take one of those surgered books.) Once the books feel better they can go visit matchstick Minas Tirith. While the paper books are gone, you can get a free Kindle with a new bank account, which I am actively considering. You could download some books by the self-pubbed Amazon best seller, or you can drop books altogether in favor of the Twilight convention, but only if you already have a ticket. Because it is sold. Out.
Are you excited for Bristol Palin's memoir? If so, you could probably use one of these non-judgmental reading dogs, because I am judging you so hard right now. While you're reading that I'll be participating in the presidential biography project, reading a biography of every US president. In order. Hello, Millard Filmore, you devil you.
That's it for me, tigers. See you next week!