A guy who lives in my building lent me this, in exchange for The Fellowship of the Ring. It's by a Norwegian writer named Ibsen. Hedda Gabler is probably his most famous play. Yeah, I know.
One thing I love about second hand books is that sometimes you get a glimpse into the lives of its previous owners. This book was acquired in Australia, where once it was required reading for a highschool.
What have we here? A note. The penciled part reads:
James You just don't do that sort of thing.
Mrs. Elmstead.
I wonder what ol' Jim Bean did, exactly.
Ah, could it be this? Looks like the boy got a hold of his mother's pinking shears and took this poor book to town with them. So, you see what I mean about second hand books? Not only do I have an enticing story about Scandanavian scandals, but I also have the mystery of the pink note to deal with.
Yes, I know no one in his right mind would care about this, but being here does weird things to your head.
Here are my new roommates, trying to decide who gets to sleep on my futon.
If the staple in the middle of the two pages didn't give it away, I actually got this photo from a Japanese magazine one of my housemates brought back. I no longer want to work in the marketing field. I want to stay in Japan and be a photographer.
This is The Duke enjoying his magazine. He's from Edmonton originally, but now he's got a real job and is practicing to become an authentic, sleazy salary man. I'd say he's making a decent go at it.
