Yes, I sort of vaguely remember how the pathetically stupid illiterate Sanchez dumpy dogs like to flatter themselves at the expense of white girls such as myself, which I can simply shrug off as one of the crosscultural disconnents that are inevitable in this fractured cultural cornucopia, but when they are messing with my personal life and livelihood so rudely, I suppose that at some point you would expect me to get riled up and do something to make them shut up. Like what?How would I do that?
I object to my reading habits being characterized in that way by those annoyingly illiterate riff-raff, but I seem to be powerless to do anything about that. That wasn't how it happened, but I don't remember very many details, that I would be able to tell the story of the book-burning in any coherent way. My parents might remember something about that since they helped to supervise the book-burning, but I was already at another school by that time so I have mostly forgotten what little I glimpsed of the mysterious closet full of books that we were not allowed to read, so obviously I did not see much of that. Dawn would remember more about that because she had more access than I did to the closet. I do remember that there were some damaged books with holes bored directly through them, because apparently there really is such a creature as a bookworm.
Yes, I can totally see why the Sanchez dumpy dogs would not be allowed access to the book closet, given their inability to correctly process information. They are simple minded critters.
