i am not racist, sexist, or ageist. so, while you still have a high regard for me, i’ll hit you with the truth: if you must know, i judge a book by its cover. literally.

i find myself browsing through bookstores and libraries, longing for a good book to read yet only focusing on those books whose cover designs jump out at me as new, shiny, and pretty. it is only those pretty books whose inside jacket summary i’ll bother to read or attempt to flip through. when it comes to books, i am completely prejudiced.

of course, there are some books that i hear about through reviews or from friends that i decide to pick up despite their ratty, ugly, and/or gaudy covers. i’ll buy them and read them and love them, and then carefully place them on my bookshelf among the new, shiny, and pretty books. it’s superficial hierarchy at its worst on my bookshelf, however more aesthetically pleasing it is to me in the long run.

i can assure you that i’m not this picky with people. i am acquainted with very many ratty, ugly, and/or gaudy people, myself being an object of revulsion, as well. but, officially, i am a book bigot.

so, when you parents feed you that overused metaphor, warning you not to judge a book by its cover, tell them about me, the book bigot, whose pretty bookshelf is totally worth the social reprehension.

in other news: happy new year!