so slowness was my first encounter with milan kundera, as it was $1.50 at one of the stops on our thrift store circuit and, hey, french instead of czech! which is not to say that i read it in french, but i found that exciting. blurbed as his "lightest novel," it may not be the gateway to a big kundera adventure - paul claims to have issues with him, and something he, paul, considers problematic would hand me my ass halfway through the first chapter - but i would have it known that i quite enjoyed the genital descriptions. they are as if - the gentle narrator from gogol's dead souls drained the bile from the evil cocks in naked lunch. does that make sense? look, it's not scary at all:
The penetration did not take place. It did not take place because Vincent's member is as small as a wilted wild strawberry, as a great-grandmother's thimble.

Why is it so small?

I put that question directly to Vincent's member and frankly, astonished, it replies: "And why shouldn't I be small? I saw no need to get big! Believe me, the idea didn't really occur to me! I was not alerted. Vincent and I both watched that odd run of hers around the pool, I was eager to see what would happen next! It was a lot of fun! Now you're going to accuse Vincent of impotence! Excuse me! That would lay a terrific burden of guilt on me, and it would be unfair, because we live in perfect harmony, he and I, and I swear to you, we've never let each other down! I've always been proud of him and he of me!

The member was telling the truth.
if someone demystified nipples thus, i'd be able to tackle the whole western canon and go to nude beaches.

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