Bang the Librarian Hard

Cheap flesh thrills
For some reason, there is still a small crop of chicks walking around this campus with “muffin tops.” Someone in administration must have gotten rid of the full-length mirrors in the dorms as part of the budget reduction. Big mistake. These chicks actually have the audacity to stand in front of the reference desk and start “pogo jumping” on the industrial sized stapler and hole puncher with their tires of marbleized mid-section lard shaking up and down in my bird’s eye view. I thought about putting up some type of “warning” sign, but I experienced temporary vertigo and a headache and just stared in disbelief. I really need to bring my W magazine and just place it right next to the office supplies of “human terror.” Freaks.

Candy stripers aren’t as fun as candy strippers
My role as “candy striper” continues through the month of February (it started in late December). Aside from heart attack guy still being here (tomorrow marks 3 weeks), Tuesday night was quite an interesting evening. After scoring a sub for my ballet class, I sat in my car outside of the local Chinese restaurant – picking up my order to temporarily get out of the house from heart attack guy who was sighing and whining and sitting in the dark – and the car was “inconveniently” parked in front of our local hangout bar. I quickly called N and offered her a 20 spot and free beer to meet me for a drink and she replied, “I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” After a couple of beers and a burger (which I slathered with cheese, salt and mayo because I’m sick of heart friendly food at the moment), N invited me back to her pad. It was still relatively early, and I didn’t want to get home before the German – who was working heart attack guy’s night reference shift. Strangely, M was sitting in their (N&M) living room (no TV or anything else detectibly audible was on) looking like he was shivering from some glacier ice cap melting. Luckily, I didn’t feel like I was interrupting any important “staring.” I think it was about 30 minutes and a couple of beers later, when N’s phone rang. It was our other friend, R, calling to say that her husband, M, was having some type of flu/insulin/seizure/fainting spell and could we go pick them up. M (of N & M) and I got into the car (this happens to be my parents new car – important for the story later) and headed over to pick them up. When we got there, sick M looked very peaked, laden in sweat, and had trouble walking. Pretty scary. Somehow, through the miraculous intervention of keen zingeriness and wit, this sick man was still able to crack a couple of good jokes on the way to the ER. Positively remarkable. I think we were all there for about an hour, and I was disappointed that the ER antics in country town are about as intense as watching the grass grow. Where’s the shit that happens on the real ER or Grey’s Anatomy? Instead, we had to stare at Funions in the vending machine and wish for more beer. Sick M was rehydrated, and the “good ER doctor” (who happens to be dating my friend, Kit Kat, and they are currently on the fritz, so I’m glad I didn’t say hi) released him to go home. In yet another remarkable feat, sick M still cracked more jokes going home, and in the flash of a second he managed to get the fucking dashboard to go back to Fahrenheit from Celsius –realizing that the “E/M” button meant “English/Metric.” Yet another sign of poor correspondence school education on my part.

Kitty Butt Conundrum
As if the medical conditions that have been surrounding me lately couldn’t get worse, R called me tonight to tell me that their kitty, A, had an impacted anal gland that erupted today. They took her to the vet where she was gassed, had her ass shaved, and her little kitty anus glands had been squeezed. I bet that Hungarian woman in Chicago that waxed the crack of my ass that time would have done the same thing for kitty – only cheaper (but probably more vicious).

Bang the Librarian Hard
Between 1975 and 1988, there was a series of “hardish core” porn paperback novels about librarians published by Greenleaf Classics. They tend to make the cyberwaves once in awhile among the biblio mavens (not all of whom are fashionable by the way) who dig reading about that shit. The hilarious part is not the banter related to the description of the novels, but the anger over the classification scheme. For example, “Bang the Librarian Hard” has a PN 7315 call number. PN is the LC (the mother library) classification for literature, and the cutter number may have a different meaning depending on the main title entry. Technically, “cuttering” is to provide a logical and orderly subarrangement within a class number. Typically it’s the topic, main entry, work (title) and manifestation (edition). Topical cuttering is different from classification because it provides an alphabetical rather than hierarchical arrangement. Anyway, you catch my drift. So, it’s this shit that librarians are talking about, not the following “bang the librarian” snippet plot summary:

“Samantha Hamilton is the librarian at Madison High School. She starts by sucking off a student (a junior) in the library workroom as part of helping him on a term paper on the mating habits of modern females. When he is shocked at her crotchless panties, she comments that "I see you have the typical high school stud's opinion of us stuffy librarians." (7) She gives him a pass to his next class so he doesn't have to hurry. "Teaching students the joys of library research was Samantha's specialty." (14-15) They get caught by Joshua McGarrett, the vice principal. They engage in mutual oral sex and hope that Miss Gustafson, the head librarian, doesn't find out, as she is ‘frigid as the Arctic.’ “

This is why I love librarians. They can handle crotchless panties, porn, dried cum in the art books in the oversize stacks, peeping toms and pervs, but fuck if they will stand for erroneous cataloging standards!!! That is complete blasphemy.

Next contest challenge
My contest was quite the success. While I am STILL in the process of processing the prizes, I’m thinking about what my next contest should be. Any and all suggestions are welcome. Shatty shat came up with the heinous song contest, so I challenge any of you witty (and semi-witty) people to come up with a new contest theme. Good luck.