1) On the wall of the ‘Haight motherfucking Memorial Library’, Vancouver, there was a sign.
‘No making out in the stacks, this is a fucking place for books, not a brothel, unless you let the staff join in and DON’T GET COME ON THE BOOKS, fuckers.’
‘No pop music, fucking classical, jazz, techno, music that isn’t punk.’
‘DON’T GET COME ON THE BOOKS’
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i am speechless with joy.
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(this fic needs to be written. really really does *g*)
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