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       In Martin: on the public toilets of the Tulip department store: I came across another powerful
example of a metaphoric Cock - so I didn't look on sausages of the boys from Turiec - but:  I had the
honor with Mr. K (oh: I already know what Franz meant it*) :this one was watching his genitals there:
engaged in jerk urination: impassively entangled in his stiff arms: the intimate man:     unfavorably
pressed by his need: and: this is how he would remain in my unmemory   - only like a blue blurry spot
in a corner of urinal box - if he didn't cast a scornful contemptuous look at me   - when my rhythmic
fart ran away shamefully without warning: and: I even slowed it down    - because I didn't plan to go
shit. :In an instant: I deeply longed to scream spontaneously:        into the resentful face of this
righteous man: that: fuck you: dick!!  - mainly because I blushed the whole       - but then I almost
laughed out loud: because: I was already looking forward to: how funny I write about him today - here
in my great tabloid -  it will be a showdown - with you: sored fucker: you heard well: I released gas
from my ass


       * Yes: Kafka didn't impress me much: I don't like The Metamorphosis at all:   and The Trial: I
didn't even finish: if I felt anything: it was only when I wandered around The Castle: Sorry Franz