I was in the apartment of a guy who was a serious, clinical bibliomaniac back about 20 years ago. In the large living room-dining room space there was desk with a TV on it, a swivel chair, and books stacked knee through the rest of the space, with little paths running through them. Down the hallway to the back, the books were stacked waist high along both sides. In the kitchen, the cabinets were full of books, except for one shelf of one cabinet, which held boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese.
That guy probably would remember, like I do, when Publishers' ClearingHouse was actually a book catalog and not the Prize Patrol!
Books, books, books, and mac n' cheese. This guy had life figured OUT. :)