the saga of shelf-ass ... part 1

you may think it is unkind of me to refer to a mentally ill homeless woman as Shelf-Ass, but that's only because you have not seen the neverending gargantuan plain which is her backside. Shelf-Ass spends most of her time sleeping on one of the library's old wooden benches facing the windows. oh, how i wish i was allowed to nap in the library. but her napping is not her worst offense. no, her true offense is olfactory in nature. imagine a facility which processes government cheese. you know, the day-glo orange kind. now imagine if this factory had to be immediately evacuated, and all the government cheese was left out in the open. and the factory employees could not return for one full calendar year. the intense odor which would emanate from opening the factory doors would barely rival the stench which emits from Shelf-Ass. so when i hear the crickety-crick of her homeless cart announcing her arrival into the library, i know its going to be a glorious day.