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Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
i still can't forgive the fact that someone
has ****** up "my" jukebox
that youtube once represented...
i know that i'll have to adapt...
start using last.fm again...
   but it's still ****-poor an excuse...
   i will stream fatoumata diawara's
enough times, but then i will actually
but the compact disk...
for the concept of the internet
becoming a transactional medium
of commerce: the new algorithmic
revisions aren't helping...
a music video should play with
a recommendation to a political video...
the whole thing is bogus,
and a mess...
            before i discovered all these
alternative commentaries...
it was the jukebox and staring at a blank
pixel paper become randomly
impregnated with pixel ink...
        mind you...
you know how uber looks like in
Russia?
        not like in the western world...
there's not tracking technology involved,
no: i spy on you so you spy on me
*******...
           hitchhiking in an urban area...
the trust of people among people
and between strangers is so high among
Russians...
you know how an uber ride looks like?
you stick your hand out into the street
from the pavement, thumbs up,
   and you play the roulette,
someone either stops, or someone doesn't...
you give them the directions of where
you're going, and if the stranger is
passing past it... you get in...
and pay them a taxi fee...
no apps... no *******...
                 but people trust each other...
nasty ******* otherwise...
"uber" in Russia is so different to the uber
in the Anglophone world...
it's not even worth relating as
comparable...
                  it's called:
   hitchhiking in the urban schematic
of traffic...
                    strangers trust strangers...
well... if you don't manage to call a taxi...
you hold your hand out on
the street... and there's someone who
will drive you to where you want to go...
no questions asked, a small fee agreed
upon... less than a taxi, perhaps a small
deviance...
   once i walked for about 10 miles
on the M25... counting how many bees
were dead on the pavement...
a lot...
   did anyone stop on the hard shoulder
and ask me if i wanted a lift to
Barking?
   nope... the English pretend they're
not solipsists, but actually are...
     no one stopped once...
i returned home with blisters on my feet...

p.s. i've never used a dating app.
not once not ever ever...
               i don't think i'd like to,
to begin with...
             slice or left, slide to the right...
whatever that is...
               i am bound to instant
gratification when i take a ****
or sit down to take a ****...
   really? it's as pleasurable for
something going in,
with what i feel when something is
coming out?!
           really? but the in-and-out part?
i could suppose: in = out,
              but in-and-out ≠ in ≠ out...
so much for living under a pile
of rubble...
                        with the way technology
advanced i must be, roughly 70...
   or playing a dumb-*** 32 year old...
whatever it was...
*** twice a year with a *******
seems to be enough...
          i'm surprised i didn't venture
to stay in Taizé-Graz...
                 as much as the world of
cosmopolitanism arrives at and provides
you with...
                 sorry...
                        i'm just thinking of her...
19... 'i think i'm pregnant'...
      you know what you should do?
get an abortion...
              you have a university career
ahead of you...
  but i didn't ask:
  is it mine? i am sure i wore a ******,
and you told me you were on
anti-contraceptive pills?
  ****** her in the bath while she
was on her period with the rubber...
and then... 7 hours in the night on
the night i left St. Petersburg, just after
her period ended
  (i'm guessing... the best time to
impregnate a woman is just after
her period)...
    i didn't ask whether it was mine...
i assumed the facts she gave me...
mind you...
              i'm more worried about
S.T.D.s being prescribed by
women outside of the *******
profession, than the women
within the ******* profession...
at least a ***** will tell you she
received regular S.T.D. checks...
  which is encouraging...
                     so...
  i can do intimate for an hour...
     but outside the hour...
i prefer to consume...
   the aura of my body...
infused with the perfume of a woman's
body sticking to me...
twice a year it might happen,
always after i return from
Poland...
               i'm thinking...
next time i visit them...
i'll take a decent bottle of bourbon
with me, trim my *****...
       and **** a her, silly.
Gotta Me
Wanna Ye
Be Fit ‘n’
Win Bad
Win C’raz
Win F’ne
Walk’n
Ride’ n
N’my 9
Mile Nine
Crush Ye
Gold Rush
Shout Ye
Shot Ye
Gold Mine
Cowboys
Rob n Dine
Graz F’ne
Lawmen
Sheriffs
Marshals
Hell Swine
Silver n Gold
Gun n Hors
Cows
n Calves
Pastures
Nah Nah
Not Thine
Ya Yea
Ye Mine
Gals n Fun
Not Thine
Ya Yea
Ye Mine
Gotta Me
Wanna Ye
Fit ‘n’
Win Bad
Win C’raz
Win F’ne
N’my 9
Mile Nine
Ya Yah
Ye Gold
Dunes 9
Cows n Hors
Guns n Gals
Ranch’s
A’l Mine
Nah Nah
Not Thine
Cowboys
Drink n
Dance
Rob n Dine
Bubble Wine
Ya Ye
Shout Ye
Shot Ye
Let’s
Drink
Toast
Wine
Lawmen
Sheriffs
Marshals
Hell
Swine
END

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