I waited in line to meet John Green today for about 2 hours. He was signing books that whole time. When I finally reached the front of the line, I sort-of-jokingly asked him, “How’s your hand holding up?” And he looked up at me with wide, borderline-manic eyes and said flatly, “My head always goes before my hand.”
an abandoned chest of roistering literature for the drunk and rampant reader.
drunken library 