The overgrown super-shit
My sister used to be a bibliophile of the highest order. I think she started reading in utero, a scenario kind of mirrored by this scene from later on in her childhood: Ma G used to catch her standing the in shower, thumb in mouth, a book peeking out from the curtain. (Hopefully she won't kill me for the thumbsucking detail--she still says "nothing compares to the thumb"). Much later on, she got a job in a Toronto bookstore where she and her co-workers collectively wrote a lurid bodice-ripper in the back office. They also invented this acronym: STLR. Which was used, apparently, for books of such rare and staggering mediocrity they weren't even worth the human energy required to shelve, repackage or remainder. Hence, the Straight To Landfill Release. She doesn't read so much any more. I think some days she might even claim she was chased from Canada by bad writing. So really this word, which I learned today, is for her. SaumassigeSchreibmaschiene, which translates roughly into “putrid garbage typewriter prose.” Those Germans, they really get to the point.
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