[Commonplace books: Thomas Farnaby, 17th-century]
Behind, behind, behind--that's where you tricky mystics always put the secret, as if life had a rainbow-colored rump like a pet baboon. It makes me sick to hear you, you old blackguard. Peace to all beings! Our only comfort is to rail, since we're not brave enough to die! Your baboon's arse may be an Aurora Borealis for all I care, since we shall never see it! The point is, pilgarlic darling, your jigging monkey-world is a Monsieur sans queue, an arse-less Monsieur! Like the Moon it has never turned round; and it never will!
Posted by stronzo on 01.27.2012
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