Osterreich hat den Vontrapps
La Belgiquea leurs chocolats
Bûlgariya e nechuvano
Hrvatska je mjesto gdje žabe kreštanje
Kibris bir agaçtir
České čepování piva je z Czechaslovakia
Denmark er ikke Delaware
Eesti kividega
Suomi on lähellä Norjassa ja Ruotsissa
La France a Paris
Deuschland spreache Deusche
I Elláda échei kókkino - skepastí spítia
Magyarország éhes
Tá Éire ar thalamh de fearg
Italia odia quando si ordinal a pizza
Latvija izklausās tualete
Lietuva yra skystas
Lëtzebuerg *** nieft dee Belsch
Malta ghandha hafna ta ' maltu
Nederland wordt geschreeuwd toen Adam een doelpunt
Polska am Marie Curie
Portugal: Valentina: Hey que ê de on de eu sou !
România suná ca locul romanilor
Slovaškia pravi, "zdravo"
Slovenija je an prostem
Equipo de fútbol de España Es la favorite de Karly
Sverige har Minecraft
United Kingdom is leaving

laitos hanesta kunnnussunutu mies miell, englantikirjo mina ja me tunen junan
tama esse and seisoden lyht lyppi vappaasi seinan, ja velja
Sovyit eripstyat hanesta puhutka laekke aiomme
mista olen kaynyt kahvi?

after a long shift at Fulham (Craven Cottage): well... obviously
it was going to be a longer shift than usual...
we were readying ourselves for a pitch-invasion...
since... if Fulham won... they would become secured
promotion to the Premier League...
i asked to be moved inside: third time...
   all the prior shifts in Bishop's Park were: one big
joke / yawn... nothing to do...
                                    absolutely nothing... nada -
            ei mitään
at least inside the stadium i could do something useful...
first on the turnstiles... then on the seg-line...
then... moved to the front... facing the crowd...
obviously i was picked to move around a bit because
i can sometimes look intimidating if i want...
not that i really want to... but Fulham has a different
atmosphere to West Ham...
mind you... whatever the stereotypes... western Londoners
are slobs... they have no fashion sense...
honest to god... eastern Londoners have so much
more dress sense! esp. the men...
   i won't mention the women either side of the fence...
but... east London men: well... the ones that come
to football matches are... proper ******* lads...
    prim...
                       back to the turnstiles: paired up with
this Muslim kid... for a while he thought i was Muslim
too... like those Muslim propagandists on Edgware Road
trying to make me into a proselyte thought
i was German... backwards and forwards...
so what time do you break fast...
   you still break the fast in the classical way with water
and dates? he looked bemused since
in the turnstiles opposite us... the "ummah" breaks
fast with an entire ******* meal... my guess... Somalis...
he even asked me for a favour:
can i pray in this turnstile shack... you know where
east is?
           i don't mind but... we're opening in like 5 minutes:
and i'm pretty sure your prayer is not as quick
and pointless as our father... which only good children
get up to before going to bed... in Catholic circles...
at least: until they become... well apostates...
so he asked: you're fasting to? it was the beard...
the full beard and moustache... ergo i must be a Muslim...
and not an urban hipster... well: no long hair done up
in a Shiva "jatadhara" - but not dreaded / matted...
oh no... i fast for a non-religious reason...
   i like fasting: it makes you more concentrated...
you learn that by fasting you can train yourself to hunger
something that transcends a hunger for food...
me... when i fast... i hunger for the eyes of women
to look at me... literally: hungry like a wolf...
          i hunger for human interaction: but Fulham is
not a friendly crowd... high-brow... depends...
            - and i truly don't know how Charles Bukowski
wrote about the drudgery of work...
           i must have spent too much time in my ivory tower
in my twenties... raving mad...
to now find myself... happily working... after all:
only a day prior i was doing some hardening...
right now... i count... 9 trees that i planted in my garden...
so far: the first... a plum tree... towers over me...
and each year she doesn't disappoint with her yield...
the others are just infants, but hopefully...
two years down the line... some apricots...
cherries.... morello cherries... apples... pears...
   i might not have walked in Eden... but... eh... so so...
plus the rosemary the thyme and the wild garlic that...
in the summer months... come night time after having
watered it... it smells like... marijuana...
    plus that massive eucalyptus tree at the end of it:
shame... no pandas...
               but i understand like... i don't want to say it...
but... it's sort of like.... ahem: ARBEIT MACHT FREI...
long shift today... pitch-invasion...
   some roughing up at first... then enough people took
up audacity and it was like: just let them past...
yesterday dismantling a vegetable patch...
   shifting about a tonne of soil... shovel: shove shove...
into bags and dumped into another part of the garden...
then... digging three holes for three gorgeous trees...
there... i did my green bit...
    - but not since the health of the youtube algorithm
have i been so frustrated at my once favourite
pastime of foraging for new music like a John Peel...
i once had the best-set up for finding new music i might like...
once you could appreciate youtube...
when... ahem... it was a "manosphere": or rather...
a site primarily used by men...
               before all the cat videos... before all the make-up
tutorials... it was a glorious time to find music!
now? now we're talking about looking at ***** colony
of patches of... i just don't have the words...
but... sometimes... i still get lucky...
   i got lucky today...
        there's nothing like coming back all the way from
Putney Bridge to Romford... hands shaking...
strong pain in the chest: no... it's not a heart attack...
hands shaking... if i were diabetic?
                   i haven't eaten anything all day...
   i managed to hold about 20cl of **** through all the trip...
oh god... the chicken shop is still open...
hot box... 6 spicy chicken wings... chips... five (s)quid...
eat half while waiting for the bus... hands still shaking...
eat the other half on the bus... get off the bus...
go into an alley... ****... go to a patch of grass
and wipe my hands to finish off what the tissue couldn't
accomplish... take out a cigarette and... ah...
surgeon's hands...                 blood sugar levels alright
one more... and in my memory... that one girl
in yoga pants that kept playing with her hair...
pulling her pants up... exposing her massive:
and i mean... hmm... peaches can't be as plum...
giving me the stare... she kept me going until
the shift finished...
             so i got home... and when i come home
tired: i'm *****... so... took the "holy trinity" to the throne
of thrones... took a ****: you're going to automatically
**** while your **** relaxes... and then...
the usual story... at least i'm not making an Only-Fans
account and filming myself for others...
it's there one minute... and then once the deed is
done: creative juices can start flowing...
sit down with a whiskey... or two... or three...
and try to figure out what to do with the sick algorithm...
foraging for more music...
and there is a massive underground movement of folk...
i've known about Hedningarna for some time...
best songs? tappmarschen... vargtimmen... raven...
Suomi... which... is a strange sort of what's classically
associated with Scandinavia... since the Finns are...
well... particular... Inuit... mythological in a sense
of being almost Eskimo...
        was i going to get lucky tonight?
sure as **** i was... the current algorithm is a bit like
a slot machine... you have to be patient with it...
subscribe to at least two good channels...
i can recommend: HARAKIRI DIAT
   and IN DEPTH MUSIC... those two channels have changed
the way i had to improve the use of the site
for my benefit...
we're still staying in Finland...
           but we're moving away from folk music:
going back in time to the 1980s...
with what was happening post-punk in England...
two music genres i abhor... punk... and rap...
i can't stomach them... stiff little fingers.... fair enough...
i'd sooner find myself on the "wrong end" of a stick
for liking Phil Collins like... that Bateman guy...
or U2... but... no... i can't stomach punk or rap...
it's not right for my digestion...
      but? post-punk? gothic rock? deathrock?
   sign me up... it's almost like the extension of The Cure
and Depeche Mode and Joy Division i've always been hungering
for...
   found it today...
the following rubric is the artist and a song(s)
with a translation of the song titles...

musta paraati - romanssi (romance), myrsky nousee (storm rises)
belaboris - kuolleet peilit (dead mirrors)
this one is going to be funny...
silmät - haudattu (burried)...
          but if you take the word apart?
   hau - woof... dattu - date... we start barking
on the 20th of April?!
syyskuu - susi (wolf)
        kuudes tunti - kuuntele ääniä (listen to the sounds)
kuolleet kukat - kasoittain tuhkaa (loads of ash)
hiljaa - kuume (fever)
               päät - rikoksen rytmi (crime rhythm)
liikkuvat lapset - sinut haluan (thee i want)...
                  well... i'm not a Finn...
                                 sinut halua (without the n)...
but... the basic jyst is already there: i want you...
whether that's sinut halua or sinut haluan...

i was lucky today... looking for new music...
i'm not so lucky... too many cat videos...
too many make-up tutorial videos fudging the original
thesaurus algorithm where:
music was just more accessible... but no surprises...
look at what happened to the high-street...
once upon a time men could go to a vinyl shop...
forage... find something interesting...
now? what's left?! shoe shops... clothes shops...
restaurants...
they burnt the secular church of man:
to the ground...
                i'm lucky... in Romford we still have
the last "face" of what's the HMV franchise...
it's not HMV though... there's also this one crazy
record shop in Upminster...
but... that's about it...
        you burned my ******* church to the ground...
replacing it with... **** i don't need...
that's just not cool...
            i mean come on: men are visual creatures?!
ah ha ha... yeah... when it comes to looking at women...
if there were no women involved...
to hell with painters... they're freaks...
paint over something i can blink at?! and give it up to my
memory bank?
visual creatures... men...
hmm... sure... Beethoven was such a ******* visual
creature that his love for music...
well... if it didn't drive him mad...
the gods were good to him: they just drove him deaf!
men are only visual creatures when
women are concerned... we're as ******* abstract
as you can get...
         you burned my church to the ground!
why couldn't a sacred space of men coming together
and sharing tastes and distastes still exist?
no one is going to have a conversation over buying
a ******* pair of shoes... well... who would?
but over a record album... talk talk... talk talk:
tears for fears... of **** this ****... i'm out... bailing...
even my mother mentioned this quack of a fact
joke: women just binge-watch t.v....
         i don't know how i managed to keep up
with the series Billions... probably for Chuck Rhodes...
women just ******* talk t.v. t.v. t.v.:
ask them about music? ask them... except for the popular
current crap? i count a woman interesting
if she has even the remote interest in music...
but... most women don't...
for them... listening to music: looking at inanimate
objects and imagining them vibrating is: alien...
what you could do... is... this little experiment...
tell a man to listen to some music... while looking at a rock...
hell.. a ******* mountain... but a rock is just grand...
but play him some music...
now... do the opposite... tell a woman to watch some
animate object... but... mute her hearing ability...
so... put the volume down low on something on t.v.:
and let the woman watch...
in turn... put some earphones on a man
and tell him: you're Sisyphus... watch the rock...
because: i never truly grapled with the myth...
even if a Camus tried to explain it to me...
mein gott... on my way back home...
******* spaghetti-eaters... H'americans...
apart from the accent... their bravado was just
overflowing... loud: girls more boisterous than
the boys... flesh everywhere... i could spot at least
two ******* about to show more than
the darkened flesh around the *******... the *******...
loud: drinking on public transport:
even though it's illegal: acting as if they own
the ******* place... women this **** have never
come across as... anything but appealing...
let's be honest: if i want to visit a *******:
i'll visit one... put my money on the table:
blah blah Dandy Warhol's an hour later...
but all this libido insomnia that men go through:
this overt-teasing... i'm like a horse with
eye-blinders... trot: the: ****: along...
        plus the accent is... bothersome...
       i pray that i never have to visit America...
i pray that i might, somehow get to see the glimpses
of the Kamchatka Peninsula...
            two girls quit work when i said that i dated
a Russian girl (from Novosybirsk) and that:
in the "current climate": it would be a bad idea to
date a Russian girl... that's before the Ukraine fiasco...
oh well... rumours... tremors... but still all handshakes
at the company's Reichstag...
bearded: heavy looking men... it's such a pretty
joke that all of us look tough but...
if we had to come across someone with a black belt
in judo: we'd be... ha ha... slippery pancakes!
but... but... they burned my church down...
long gone are the days best associated
with Nick Hornby's High Fidelity...
    that novel: made me...
           it's one of the few books where the film adapatation
made me want to read the book...
Stendhal's the Scarlet and the Black
was another... the Three Muskateers...

well... isn't it such a lovely comment anyone
could leave?

but the best itches, are the ones you can't scratch, no? what's that thought you haven't shared with me? - and, may i ask, are you willing to share it now? just as i''m waiting: are you bloodied and willing to... allow the leeches to drain the restraints from you? speak your mind... i feel no need to inhibit my thinking: that's how i respect the concept of free speech, if it follows the Cartesian model... res cogitans becomes res extensa: i sometimes like to revel in revealing what i think... therefore translating it as "speech": even... when entrusted with lettering... it's not speech... is it? freedom of speech is an extension of thought: no? painters can't talk for a worth of chalk or... rather: charcoal on canvas: i.e.: ****... epileptic blinking machines... eh... it's just a little distinction between how Y and I diverge... yet at the same time merge... dye... difference... i'm not even sure how to overcome this fiddly bit of the Anglo-Zunge... but there's no lisp involved...  but you're getting my grift... motive... whatever you want to call it... yeah... phi and theta... which... in English is basically: F = PH = TH... i already found this keyhole using the iota and omicron: key in: twist... hey presto... i.e. I + O = Φ / Θ = Ω i.e. the door opens... this was not borrowed from the Exploits & Opinions of Dr. Faustroll: Pataphysician by Alfred Jarry... please... don't restrain yourself... you think i could?

i only copied it for the equations... well... just this one:
I + O = Φ / Θ = Ω.

Café in Loule
I'm sitting in a café in Loule, drink coffee and eat a sandwich with nothing on but butter, it is my attempt to slim. Into the café enter two old friends one has small grocers the other is a cobbler,
yes they still exist. They have a coffee and a wee dram, the grocer will keep open to ten, the cobbler keeps his shop open he care not to go home before his nagging wife has gone to bed.
Mugabe, the president of Zimbabwe, is in house arrest, there has
been a military coup, although the army denies it is a takeover;
anyway, it doesn’t matter. Mugabe ninety-two years old has presided
over a total fiasco, the breadbasket of Africa has to import food for
the people oppressed people by his criminal misrule.
An autocrat’s regime has come to an end.

For reason not clear to me I think of Sweden who is run by a liberalistic- feminist philosophy that it has become a country can be understood when immigrants’ trespasses and we have the making of a divided a country that is no longer Sweden. When we hereafter talk of Scandinavia Sweden is not included, nor is the Norwegians who have given in to extreme capitalism.
well there is Suomi, but they are half Russians and Denmark who consist of nice Germans; so you see there is no Scandinavia.

Portugal survives she bends with the wind doesn’t break, from the café window I see the shoemaker by his lest smoking a cigarette.

no... no former interest in the Finnish: kieli...
hmm... let's compare...
Finnish... Estonian... Latvian... Lithuanian...
Hungarian... what's zunge: tongue in each?
the Suomi say: kieli...
            in ******: the closest approximate is:
klei: it glues together... klel: glue...
well... the tongue does just that...
    hmm... no bewilderment here:
Eesti say: keel
           Latvijas says: mēle
                                   slightly off the chart...
Lithuanians... immediately all the prior
languages drop dead...
because the translation is: nicht zunge wie in
                     glied... körperteil...
               aber zunge ist sprache...
   since...
liežuvis is tongue: tongue proper... the waggling...
ice-cream licking bit...
(lje-ju-vis) the ju is Fwench: from je suis...
             but... oh what a dear word...
   KALBA... that's language to a Lithuanian...
the young Huns use: NYELV for language...
i'm not even going to bother finding the word
for the waggling part of: irritated teeth...
          this almost feels like a 4th Jemminah revelation...
can i possibly scare women?
are they sort of, like... almost... sisters?!
they don't want me finding them in a bad mood?
in their casual framework of relexation
before the television?
        mind you: yeah... that would be boring...
if i became a domesticated animal...
even though... i'm sort of domesticated...
but... when *** is involved...
              oh right... i hold the joker card in
my Texas hold-up game of poker...
    i've spent time with prostitutes... so...
box is box... kasten ist kasten...
                 i must have scared her...
                         i was willing to become a surrogate
father to her child... the penny dropped
when i read the boy his poem back to him aloud...
and said: wow... and it was a literal wow...
or when her dog was licking my ears
and my self-inflicted cigarette burns on
the knuckles... until i started bleeding...
      that i brought her a banana loaf and asked
if her boy had any nut allergies...
           the self-made wine... cloudy... so i bought
a bottle of franziskaner weissbier (also cloudy)
so she wouldn't think she was drinking poison...
    then come Valentine's day i dropped off a bouquet
of flowers on her doorstep in the middle of the night
and dropped a card inside...
   well... she did mention that this guy was trying
to "court" her... but... yeah... this part...
it took him 20 years to gather the courage...
   when i heard that... the time we came back in
the same car... and she feigned tiredness and put her
elbow on my leg... and sort of relaxed...
   right: *****-head on... i'm driving this one home...
i.e. i'm going in for the ****...
   in warfare it would be called Blitzkrieg...
in casual social relations it would be called
the: juwelansturm... charm offensive...
                   esp. after some time you learn that...
at least 3 single mothers are scouting for...
for... i don't even know what at this point...
                  oh man... and she even had a vinyl player
and i was like: can we meet in a few days time...
i have this record i'd like you to listen with me...
   backstabbing reality: she's a tarantula mummy...
she'll eat the male in order to raise her offspring...
                           safety in the brothel...
                                    to be honest... she was actually...
generous... because she let me go... ghosted me...
blocked me from messaging me... even though...
      i've already seen her, twice already... when cycling...
once at night: her face beaming larger than the moon
with... i don't know what it was...
another time... walking with...
the most unremarkably looking man...
   just a little bit taller than her... and i'm guessing she
was... at most... a 5ft3...
              but not when the same love interest
is spreading rumours on her first day at work
about you being drunk on the job...
              well: i do know that i drink to excess...
i do have drinking ******... i tend to drink for about 4 people...
but when i need to be sober:
i'm sober... why do we need to be sober...
i will never know... but...
            eh... therefore? the charm-offensive had
to be put in place...
   as i told one of the other co-conspirators:
there's this ****** proverb...
           lies... or is it liars?
    lies don't walk on stilts...
        lies / liars have short legs...
                 lies are not longshanks...
         time... all it took was time...
                                but at the same time...
it's so frustrating... i'd love to **** a single mum...
i mean: her libido must be... exponential...
   shoom! a ******* comet!
                  esp. if she's raising a boy rather than a girl...
i should know... Khedra... the *******
i have unprotected *** with is a single mum...
but she has a daughter... prettiest **** thing in the world...
and her libido is a rave... a rage... a... a...
don't go there... i mean: i go there...
but... yeah...
                          and Jeminnah was this petite auburn
ginger **** good looking "thing"...
what Rodin sculptures i could have had with
her in the bedroom...
                                   ugh... it's sick... it's truly sick...
framework... just to ensure the boy isn't there...
but she... actually behaved rather admiringly...
she... actually... spared me...
   all the disappointments that would inevitably
come... if i went... no... if she went forward and
made herself more "available"... ***-friendly...
                 i still don't know why i like writing about this...
it sort of sooths me... or i'm having trouble trying
to write about something new...
therefore i regurgitate this little event in my head...
because i'm trying to find explanations
not excuses - certainly not dejections...
   or harbouring a resentment for women...
           i think she behaved... like a doe would...
     and i have actually run with doe and their young once...
at a traffic junction... there was no stag...
they became lost... traffic mayhem...
run them back into the woods...
                seriously: i can't even be bothered
to imagine **** anymore... life's as it comes... and goes...
so she did behave like a doe...
        frightened little thing...
              well... if you come across a guy and your
dog finds him irresistible...
  your little boy wonder becomes sort of scared
of an authority figure... or rather:
doesn't look at your boyfriend as an older brother...
like my neighbour once said:
better jerking off in heaven
than ******* in hell... i guess she should know...
****... better change that term juwelansturm
to... reizkrieg... yes... much better...
              but i still don't get it: how socially backward,
lacking any sort of introspection / self-awareness
must you have... to... do a Mr. Bean move...
knowing how cut-throat women are against
each other... to... have about 4 women gather against
you for slandering someone: you just met
and are working with?
            maybe i have a mind the size of pigeons...
but... at least that sort of brain size allows me
to have a Sat-Nav implant...
   i still can't get over how much drama i just avoided...
i was about to step into a hot pile of ****...
i truly was willing...
           how she allowed her former boyfriend...
well... her son's older brother... by my take on things...
to run her in over £10,000 of debt... implying she lost
her credibility to work in the financial sector...
i have a square head... i'm trying to fit a rectangle into it...
it's not going to work...
   and i'm not even solipsistic / autistic...
(a) why would you tell me your life story so endearingly,
   while also slandering me...
(b) why would you tell me your life story
and not something you enjoy doing... the music you like?
(c) women mature faster than men?!
   you're kidding me, right?
    that's like that Egyptian fwend i once had...
absolute ***... even the Pakistani said...
we're supposed to meet up for the movies...
no... forget fashionably 15 minutes late...
  sometimes... an hour late... **** those sort of people...
waste of air... never mind time...
but i'm the sort of person that is: in love with the idea of love...
in liebe mit die idee von liebe...
   but i was truly treading on egg-shells while walking into
a SHAMBO'H... szambo = septi tank...
           - mind you: self-deprecating humour does help:
a lot...
    while the only use of the diminutive tense in English
i was able to find was, associate with... making nouns
ugly... "nouns" well... like Matthew becomes Matt
Peter become Pete... Anthony becomes Tony...
Joshua becomes Josh... Samuel / Samantha becomes
Sam... it's ******* ugly... it's diminutive "diminutive":
just ******* lazy... like do not becomes don't...
Pakistani becomes ****-,
               at least where i come from: diminutive is
diminutive: i.e., it's endearing...
because something smaller is always cuter...
you want to tend to it more...
KACHKA'H (kaczka) becomes kaczuszka...
drzewo become drzewko (tree, little tree)...
tygrys: tygrysek (tiger, little tiger)
jabłoń: jabłonka
   it's the diminutive but it's also... refreshing:
lying about the thing's temporal quotation...
which also makes it a funny reading into history...
that **** Germany thought of themselves as
Aryans...
    yet... the ******-lack-lands further east entertained
the infusion with the Sarmatians...
an Iranian... Aryan tribe...
        and we are... "we" are... i am... very *******
refreshed to defend my mutterzunge...
sure... i'll keep it subdued: if i had a keyboard that
would allow me easier access to the orthography...
i don't think i'd write in English...
probably not...
         even Charles Dickens can't call it orthography
whether it's weather or little or litle...
   there's no orthography where they are no diacritical
marks... akin to U contra Ó
   or epsilon contra eta...
                 mind you: the Byzantines are hyper-sensitive
to γλώσσα - even now... upsilon, omicron: omega...
why need to stress: give the omega the acute
accent? i know it's gloossa... shouldn't that accent
be put to better use in order to make the English
looking proto-Germanic ᛋᛋ (schutzstaffel)
disappear? too many ******* consonants in ******...
i heard that argument before...
    too many diphthongs in yours... or at least lacking
one: IE... that ought to be a diphthong...
aye... i... die... dye... different... dynamic... dip...
where's an affirmative-iota in... the last three examples?!
surely you don't say: dype... when you write: dip...
do you?
             all of U in you...
                             yes... i do feel linguistically superior...
but it's not a superiority of: "my" people write
language in a... oh ****... now i remember...
the best comparison comes...
like this project of twinning towns...
Havering was twinned with Ludwigshafen...
the ****** language... lodged between Russian and
Deutsche... neither... the best alliance
is with... the clarity and sensibility of: Japanese...
that's the closest i've come to compare my mother-tongue...
Japanese...
   it's the clarity of syllables... of actual letters...
sure... Japanese has restrictions on its consonants...
since they have to be coupled with vowels...
except... why is N no ******* unique?
i could understand H... from the Hebrews...
since... that's a vowel catcher of sighs and eh?! conclusions
and a vowel generator of: ah ha ha... i.e. laughter...
so... what?! the Japanese laugh akin to...
Ini Kamoze's: here comes the hot stepper?
na'h na'h na'h?        oh: wight... no trill of the R...
no rattle-snakes back there...
i guess you could laugh on a Na (sodium)
and No (know very little)...
      next time i'll catch myself laughing i'll ditch
the H and borrow the ン (N)...
but... hmm.. weird... Sejong the Great might agree with me...
something's up...
i'm itching... now... Korean makes more sense...
to hell with the Chinese skeleton... x-ray...
hieroglyphs... ideograms... brick wall:
too much memory gone to waste...
        no phonetic clues... just enough geology...
pressure... time... erosion... to memorise...
   not going to happen...
  that's why you're never going to invade China...
but something is up in Katakana...
if N (ン) has such a unique place among / apart from
other consonants...
that it has the same sort of status as the vowels
(ア) A or (オ) O...
海 - kai... ocean... phonetically dropping the ideogram
("emoticon") you'd get: カイ...
but if N is so uniquely placed as an A...
why... would you require...
       to merge this unique consonant with the unique
vowels?
      why do you need this?
ナ ニ ヌ ネ ノ: na, ni, nu, ne, no?!

isn't N unique like the vowels that it can stand uncoupled
with vowels? so... if it can't be stand-alone akin
to vowels... why keep it: "unique"?!

ン   ア   イ   ウ   エ   オ

   fair enough... i'm far from Japanese... but i still don't understand
why you need to disfigure the unique N by a vowel...
and i'm trying to figure out the logic...
how, for example:  ン + ア = ナ...
since... exactly... since...
                         there's no equivalent to the N + A = NA
for any other consonant in Japanese...
there's no R + A = RA... since... there's no R!
no really... let's see... RA: ラ... ア (A)...
              so... what's the R? it's almost like a diacritical mark

laughter in "anime" / ******: ハ ハ
) (                   close enough... but if the H is invoked...
how does A morph in "opposing" chiral, mirror?
   ア? ア + ? = ハ: ha... ha ha... ha... eh?
and the obvious restrictions... consonants take the lead...
when fused with letters...
you can't find AN or an AM or a AT in japanese...
you can only find NA MA and TA...
- if i'm going to become prone to dementia in old age...
sure... then... i'll travel to Amsterdam and
juice up on some chew of a handful of magic
mushrooms... a reiteration of how fungus hitchhiked
the money brain... but not until then:
i'm good... on this linguistic plateau, for now...

- lessons from yesterday... H'american women are
insufferable... apologies...
i can understand tight yoga pants... flick of the hair...
exposing... or rather... exfoliating in one's peach
*** physique... but dressed...
it really makes all the more sense to align oneself
with the Muslim women... i truly: truly abhor this
current... libido insomnia... which implies...
by the time i get some: i don't want it...
which means... the pattern of going to the brothel
to get a hard-on... i need to exercise in short exhausting
bouts like a boxer... i need to ******* without
actually ******* for a few rounds...
and i need to drink an aphrodisiac like white wine...
and then i'm good to go...
    
we've been so overtly sexualised we've become...
sterilized by overexposure...
i'm serious... perhaps the NIQAB is not so much
about female oppression but...
to ensure the male libido is kept intact: focused...
since... men become easily bored if there is no
existential stress... we tend to ******* and pursue
**** like: geometry... linguistics...
yeah: "bored"... no... we find alternative avenues
to cope with life...
       and by a common demonitor:
we're no adherents to the doctrine of Darwinism...
most of us would **** for the Copernican focus
of reality... but... this whole idea of passing on
our genes? sorry...
even i see what sort of men pass on their genes...
passive men... mediocre men...
humanity has made Darwinism unnatural...
**** Germany tried the orthodox method
best associated to Darwinism...
why did it fail?
  like that Matrix quote from Agent Smith...
people... people... just enjoy misery...
it's what makes them thrive...
populus... populus... fruor miseriae...
                                                    in miseriae illi vigeo!
i tried... to accomplish "something" worth the dignity
of calling it: human... personally? i can only attest
to... mengelegeschrei! kinship...
                  it wasn't worth it...
                  trying to love people is one thing...
it's so disturbing doing such a feat...
the whole inclusivity project...
   when you don't have exclusive rights to one person...
maybe only swans figured it out...
but... it's so... ******* chimp-sour...
so psychologically backwards...
             i'm not even irritated, disinterested or... stressed...
calmly, collectively... backtracking...
i'm getting bored of this libido insomnia...
   what if i were to showcase my underwear bulge?!
that would be deemed as ****** harassment... wouldn't it?
i've seen messages on the tube...
LOOKING... ooh... you look at some in a lecherous mood!
handcuffs! handcuffs!
               TOUCHING! can't i... touch you on the shoulder...
so you might... move aside... while i get off the tube?!
handcuffs! handcuffs!
      this society is beyond rotten...
rot is rot... it's... fermenting... into something
that... whatever propaganda the Soviet's would have
envisioned to throw at it... couldn't...
it ******* self-imploded...
   no no... this is a full-on self-implosion...
         you wish there was some post-Soviet involvement...
there was: zilch...
          
what was once the Soviet Empire... is not modern Russia...
oddlt enough...
   i'm so thankful that i spent over a month in Russia
and never once switched on the t.v. mind you:
i was in a "relationship" with a girl who told me
her grandmother was her mother..
and her mother was her sister...
   and she was still bangng her ex... with ties to
the government... blah blah...
faking having a period... but i thought *******
a woman on her period was all bonus?
fleshy crumbs on the ******...
   fair enough... i'm not sick on the sickly sweet bits...
i'm like a crab or a crow...
i pick up leftovers...
             but my eyes truly dim... the iris and the sclera
disappear... all you can see is the pupil...
when... libido insomnia over-exposure kicks-in...
i just stop thinking straight.. usually my mind is built
for vectors... geometry... but....
when i'm getting teased too much...
this is teasing... let's face it... and... i can't get a hard-on...
what would most do? a violent cause...
i don't think we're asking for nuns....
      we're asking for Black Narcissus types...
the tragedy of overtly sexualising men
into a future of impotence...
  while... deeming women: overvalued and...
            doomed to an existential failure of
single motherhood...
              it is a failure! there's no romance to speak of
if... she has a girl or a boy token!
and the socialism... the Soviet propagandists would
have never envisioned such an easy future of
argument....
capitalism will not fail out of ideology... if it is going
to fail: it will fail out of biology...
men will become so isolated from women
that men will... as men do: stop spending...
because they will not spend money on women...
why would i want to spend more than i already
spend on a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of pepsi and
a packet of cigarettes?
why? huh?! eh?!
                 i don't need to look "pretty"...
                   i'm already ugly...
                       reality dissonance... it's vibrating!
it's ******* vibrating! it's like: hum hum hum... humming...
insect wing flutter... coupled with KEISHA's song BLOW...
well... because the last time i cited
listening to
  COMBICHRIST... the girl blocked me...
      sent to destroy... it's such s nice... song...
  well... manner... tastes... one can't oysters all of one's
life... whoops... which is like: whpe + slippery + oops + i slipped...
ah ha: ba n'ah n'ah!

ad mors facio tuus venia!
   toward death: make your pardon!