Dear Family Guests.

Dear loving family,

Living in the sticks, I realise you must be somewhat deprived of stimulus. But in enjoying our hospitality, please endeavour to not steal the books (plural) I offer you to read. I guess I would not have minded so much, HAD I EVEN READ THEM.

As at this time, I'm sure you can appreciate that, with fuck all money, no computer*, slow internet meaning no downloads, no television in english, and only one shitty game on my iphone to amuse me, books provide pretty much my singular form of entertainment. As you know, from experience I imagine, in being momentarily poor and needing an escapist reality, the genre of pulp fiction offers the solution of hours of relatively cheap fun.

What bothers me more is, that if I had to stay at your house, I would be specifically told to 'not steal the books'. An interloping act, if performed, one would never hear the end of... And more to the point, now I know why.

NB to self: must hang sign in guest bedrooms "Don't Steal My Fucking Books"

*computer situation rectified (obviously) by this point in time.