This book came into my possession after I backed up my Jetta, whose trunk begged for a milking of her crates, into the driveway of a young woman ("Cynthia Wang, 2000" her bubbly #2 script announces at the bottom of the title page) relocating from Greenwich, Connecticut to Seattle, Washington. Presumably for love. And presumably without love for the many books she offered up, gratis, on Craiglist.

Which is to say: this book was free.

And which tees me up to say: this book was worth every penny.

I couldn't even read this using my New York Times reading style, i.e., only read the first sentence of every paragraph.

This thing is, to me, entirely unreadable, and besides, it sort of has that halo of Wall-Street-douchenards-who-want-to-control-friends-and-exploit-people //and their douchenardy aspirants// going on. (The Art of War? Really? Has life in your little condo association gotten just that ugly? Ninja, puhleez.)

Plus, I had this book in my bathroom, so now it smells faintly of pee.

Just kidding. Hey, anybody want to buy this used on Amazon?

As if. It's going for $0.25 there. This one's heading to the Goodwill in Swarthmore.

xoxo