Buy My Grad School Crap!

I have finally, finally gotten off my ass to re-activate Smartypants Clearinghouse, my Amazon store where I am selling off the most grad-schooly of my grad school books (plus a few randos that I now have digital and would never have a use for on paper again). My book-fetishist days ended somewhere around the 18th move of my twenties, and I have been slowly (sometimes VERY slowly) offloading these relics ever since. Does the fact that I read almost exclusively digitally now make me an anti-intellectual? I believe it was Pierre Badiou who said, “I don’t give a fuck what you think — please buy my books!”

All of the books are listed at rock-bottom prices; I mostly just want them out of my house. Many are inscribed with my name and the year I bought them (which makes them even cheaper; a relic from my book-fetishist days; “I’ll keep this FOREVER!” Eh, no I won’t). Some are even “inscribed” with what I am sure are very illuminating notes from grad school (cough cough, which makes them EVEN cheaper).

Anyway, know that when this shelf gets cleared out, its highly intellectual contents will likely be replaced by puke rags and binkies and breast-pumping accoutrements, because I am a lady-woman and once we become babby factories, brain no work so good no more. (I am kidding; I have meant to get rid of these pompous-ass books for years.)

Be warned, also, that my customer service skills aren’t that great. I mean, they’re OKAY, but let’s just say that I won’t be making a second career (fifth career?) in retail anytime soon.

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