I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before now…fuckin’ dumbass, is why… Yeah…well…

This morning I overheard Izzy asking The Celtic One something about reading Silas Marner, and it got me thinking about one of the biggest intellectual embarrassments of my life, no lie…and that is that I have read pitifully little of classic literature, no matter how it is defined. I’m not sure how I got thru all those years of school without having to indulge more than I did, but I did it.

Well, shit, I can fix this with no problem…well…except the one I’ve always had when trying to read the classics…I often either find myself bored to tears, or that the writing style of the author is just fucking unreadable, no matter how great anyone tells me it is.

Still, that shouldn’t be the issue, should it? As I mentioned to Izzy this morning, a reasonably intelligent adult ought to be able to read anything. It’s just words on paper, right?

Ok, I’m going to start this today. I have never read…Unc blushes deeply at his lack of education...Lord of the Flies. I know all about the book, of course, but I’ve never read it. Well, it’s sitting just to my right, a brand new copy that has never been opened, even.

There are a couple of provisos with this, however.

I WILL NEVER READ ANYTHING BY JAMES JOYCE. EVER AGAIN.

This is non-negotiable, nor will I feel the least pang of guilt or embarrassment. No matter that the entire world disagrees with me, Joyce’s writings are, with no exception, meaningless bullshit, horribly written, and terminally boring. Fuck you, James…your shit stinks, and I ain’t reading any ever again. Amen.

There was one other thing I was gonna set up as an escape clause for me if I get really bored reading some of this stuff, but I decided that was why I have never read any of this crap; I always left myself an intellectual out.

TIME TO MAN UP, UNC.

Ok, though I’m not completely sure what that means. So I can’t wear panties any more, is that it?