Judging a Book by Its Cover

A couple of weeks ago I bought two new books to start reading during my class breaks (because I get very bored, and homework will always be there). One of the books, which I've yet to start, is a fictional story based on a true one about a woman with Alzheimers, and the other is a collection of some writer's witty short stories. I chose the latter for two reasons: 1) I enjoy short stories because they're quick and to the point, and I think it takes a lot of talent to be entertaining and thought provoking in such a little amount of space, and 2) the cover caught my attention and I liked it -- it's yellow and bright and the font is neat and the title is interesting.

See:

I skimmed through the first couple of stories before I bought it, and they seemed innocent and clever enough. However, the first time I sat down to read it my eyes opened wide and my cheeks blushed as the words I read to myself filled my head with distasteful images. There I sat in a student center full of people, if only they knew the thoughts being forced on me at that very moment...Seriously, if I wanted to read vulgar portrayals of one's sex romps or unsettled sexual orientation, I would have bought a romance novel. Yikes. SO, moral of the story: Take them literal when they say don't judge a book by its cover, because they kind of know what they're talking about.

Speaking of being dirty, I was recently called a dirty-bird for posting a picture of Michael Phelps, but honestly I don't see what's dirty-birdish about speedos and a fantastic physique. It's art. Also, I was likened to another blogger that likes to link his page to those with questionably crocheted objects. While the things I write about and post might be a little random, I think they're in no way comparable to a vulva made of yarn.

If you don't agree, though, I'm really sorry!