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I have a dark secret to confess. It has burned inside me for several years. It is terrible. My friends may never speak to me again because of it.

I…I…I read Reader’s Digest…and enjoy it.

Not the feel good stories. Hate those. It’s melodrama, and the only time I allow melodrama is if I created it.  MMMMWWWHAHAHA!

No, in all honesty, I read it for the jokes, the manners section, and the tips/health section. I like a good laugh. My manners are atrocious. I am going to be getting a government paycheck so I’ll need to know how to cut corners in my budget so I won’t keel over from lifting giant rolls of red tape. It suits my needs.

Reader’s Digest is not high brow in any way. It is not even that particularly good, but I don’t care. It is useful and I can’t always be reading The Aeneid or Crime and Punishment. I need to let loose with my reading habits every once and awhile.

Now, excuse me. I am off to read a graphic novel on DNA.

Until Our Next Meeting,

The Lost Writer of Rohan