This “spiritual” biography about Beethoven (I missed the “spiritual” part of it when purchasing it for $1 at a cafe). It sucked absolute dookie and reminded me that flowery language does not equal intelligence and obscures a damn point. I was absolutely grasping for take-away factoids about our maestro and gleaned three things out of 200 pages of eye-clawing fluff: he was a lonely bastard; he had a brother named Carl; he had beef with a few princes over lack of payment.

Ok

Girl what

Ugh, yes, I got an etiquette book when I was 16, already too polite a teenager, while my three brothers burped and farted and cursed their way to adulthood