I'll pick it up, aye. Arthur C. Clarke is the fucking most amazing man ever. I bet he could clog toilets with his piss and modelled the TMA-1 on his enormous, unfathomably smooth cock. WHICH, MAY I ADD, I also bet he used to snap in half like 32 women PER DAY, as he most definitely WAS NOT GAY like those LYING WHORES who edit Wikipedia would have you believe.
I got "The Collected Stories" out of the library ages ago and haven't brought it back yet because, well, I can't find the damn thing. How the fuck is it even possible to lose something
that big?!?! More to the point, should I go around and 'fess up or do I just dinghy it...?

I hope I don't fall asleep tonight and wake up to find myself hurled billions of years into the Earth's future like either of the characters in Nemesis / Exile of the Eons - MY LATE FEE FOR THE LIBRARY BOOK WOULD BE ASTRONOMICAL.
