Who is fat robot

I, fat robot,  am not a cat and do not consume nearly enough cake.

The Hands on the Keyboard are somewhat sickly pale and humanoid. They are attached to a female individual born in the mid-eighties.  From its facial cavity it speaks some form of archaic viking language, while the hands persistently try to put together functional sentences in English.

Here is a list of ten approved things, aside from books:

  1. Judgemental cats
  2. Cashew nuts
  3. Lapsang souchong and associated blends
  4. Ginger, all forms
  5. Space Jam
  6. Pockets with room for real life hands and keys
  7. Coloured pencils
  8. Bunny slippers
  9. Getting packages in the mail you’d forgotten you were expecting
  10. Less judgemental cats

I usually rate the books I read highly, and feel nice and shiny things about them. I’m sometimes afraid this means I have no ability to express criticism, but it’s most likely because I read a lot, and have been reading for a number of years, and am consequently skilled at selecting the reading material I am likely to enjoy.  I don’t usually pick up books I think are bad.  Except in those cases of “Gosh golly I am going to read about these sparkling vampires because I’m curious and sometimes a top 40 song is pretty catchy, after all.”  (The sparkling vampires weren’t catchy. After all.)

So on a scale of 1-5,  my ratings are quite rarely below 3.

In writing about why I liked a book, I try to explain what kind of liking it is (like, like or like-like, y’know, like?), which I think is more important to a review than a description of plot and characters,  and I get sidetracked a bit, and fear I might inadvertedly be writing terribly insulting things , but on top of the pile of a thousand dead infant book blogs, I have decided complete subjectivity is the only real option, and yellow apples taste better than both green and red ones.

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