Reading the Steve Jobs biography is primarily a monumental headache. I’m filled with regret for buying that book. Every time I open it up I get angry. Great blazes of rage and all I want to do is throw it away, I want to stop reading it. But I can’t. It’s my curse that once I start a book I have to finish it, even if I’d rather pound my band into a bloody pulp with a sledgehammer instead of open it one more time.

It’s uniquely an awful book. It is the first and last time I’m going to read anything written by Isaacson. I need a quiet place where I can suffer through this awfulness. The only thing I really wish was that it was a paper book and not an ebook that way I could throw it in the backyard, douse it with gasoline and let the hateful thing burn.

I really have to renew my library card and get to borrowing this dreck. At least that way when these awful books manifest I can get rid of them without having to waste precious money on this printed crap.