Dear Book Buyer:

You want a book on Brazil, but you don't know the title/author, Brazil might not be in the title, & it came out in either '08, '09, or '10. Sigh.

Dear Book Buyer:

Maybe I'm an old fuddy duddy, but it just seems downright unwholesome to come into a bookstore and spend hours reading Magic Eye books.

Dear Book Buyer:

Lord of the Flies was not originally written in French & then translated into English. Why must you turn my bookstore into a house of lies?

Dear Book Buyer:

Perhaps it's odd that we sell electronic BBQ forks. However, it's even more bizarre that you're trying to shove one up your friend's ass.

Dear Book Buyer:

You're not signing a mortgage or choosing a new heart. It's a fucking dictionary, so pick one, and give me the last 25 minutes of my life back.

Dear Book Buer:

You did NOT just ask me for a copy of The Sale of Two Titties. Is this real life?

Dear Book Buyer:

Gee whiz Conspiracy Lady, perhaps you're right! Maybe all of the books in the store were written by one person. Or, maybe not.

Dear Book Buyer:

I can assure you, the Moleskine® notebooks are not made from moles.

Dear Book Buyer:

Thank you for explaining to me at length about how the germinal stages of wheat represent our relationship with Jesus.

Dear Book Buyer:

Thank you sir for sporting what is by far the most epic mooseknukle I have ever seen. That's the Stonehenge of mooseknukle.