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As the warden attached the electrodes to my body, I asked him if I could read a magazine. He gave me that week's issue of Newsweek, which had a photo of the president of the International Mensa Society on the cover. She was reaching up to her skull with both her hands, bending over, and spreading her cerebral hemispheres for the photographer.

And as I sat there with the electrodes attached to my head, perusing Newsweek, I couldn't help but recall those days back at the Wilford Military Academy of Beauty when we'd sit under the hair dryers at the training salon, flipping through our favorite magazines. And then my mind wandered to a particularly hot day at the Academy. We'd been standing under the brutal sun for hours as our drill instructor quizzed us.

"Unwanted facial hair?" he barked.

"Electrolysis, sir!" we chorused.

Well, here I am, sir. The most unwanted hair on the face of the earth.

4. colonoscope nite

bathed in the cobalt radioluminescence of 10,000 ufo surveillance beams, aloisio de oliveira, rio de Janeiro's most celebrated gastroenterologist/playboy languorously nuzzles the damp spicy baudelairean armpits of his 14-year-old lover arleen portada lead singer for brazil's most notoriously nihilistic samba band the nice maclords splayed hairlessly at the foot of a graffiti-splattered sliding pond her bra is made out of french-fried potatoes with lacquered daubs of sweet brazilian ketchup at each nipple it sells for well over 10,000 brazilian yen at rio's most fashionable boutiques

perhaps already i've said too much on this lugubrious new year's eve, the goblets and demitasse cups piled so high as to obscure the faucet which drips methodically like a knuckle rapping methodically he draws a line but the line is like a single hair which he can never brush from the page drinking pineapple liquor and smoking marijuana with the khmer rouge in the jungles of kampuchea, he felt… suddenly neurotic he was rarely seen in public without a chic demoiselle on his arm, but that didn't stop him from feeling like… something grown in a petri dish!

after the crafts fair, earl and kitty moseyed down to kitty's place and got stinking drunk cosselѕs a goop big earl said lolling in a hammock that squeaked as it swayed back and forth on kitty's porch he knocked his hat back at a rakish tilt and swigged the fiery hooch you heard of bathtub gin well this here's stall-shower mash big earl smirked i lack vitality emotion or warmth tonight admitted kitty but i am free from pathogenic microorganisms the extraordinary rococo preciousness of big earѕs needlepoint style created great excitement at the crafts fair and his piece the dallas cowboys in israel garnered the coveted prix de gauguin

it was "colonoscope nite" at the lucky stiff, new haven's most notorious gay bar — gastroenterologists pay half price for all kahlъa drinks until midnight zelda dance critic for the Italian communist party daily ѕunita Italy's most contentious newspaper bounced into the lucky stiff she never missed a chance to judge the dance contest on "colonoscope nite" the best dancers win all-expense-paid trips to thighland a mountainous kingdom in micronesia the size of tribeca where they'll be honorary guests of the nice maclords at a royal command performance for the king and queen of thighland hyperpituitary giants who as custom decrees eschew toothpaste and speak only in the french passй simple all restaurants in thighland offer ballet parking lanky black youths in fuchsia tutus glissading into automobiles and gracefully backing into rows that stretch elegantly to the sea i've acquired a taste for baboon meat sometimes i lie in bed all afternoon like colette eating it straight from the can he said wanly she measured his penis with a shoe salesmen's metal slide you're about a size 7 zelda said

my horoscope predicts that on may 16th i will marry eddie mustafa muhammad former wba light-heavyweight champion she says wanly i suffer from necropheliaphobia — a fear of having sex with dead people he says wanly who are the new intellectuals who are the new aesthetes now that the old new intellectuals and the old new aesthetes have been decimated by the self-decimating ramifications of their old new ideas? she asks wanly he picks up a copy of das plumpe denken new englanпs most disreputable german-language newsmagazine blast in egg cream factory kills philatelist he turns the page radioactive glow-in-the-dark semen found in canada he turns the page cosmologist claims extraterrestrial maids visit earth every Wednesday he turns the page modern-day hottentots carry young in resealable sandwich bags he turns the page wayne newton calls mother's womb single-occupancy garden of eden morgan fairchild calls sally struthers loni anderson

when a mosquito bites your prick that's called a hoboken blow job in august the mosquitos of hoboken fall deliriously in love with men's pricks drunk with the miasmic froth that floats across the hudson like crиme fraоche the lovesick mosquitos choose their mates haphazardly like the bleary-eyed anomic patrons of a west side singles bar with conversational gambits like i just finished playing two hours of racketball in a poorly ventilated un-airconditioned building wearing a pair of Shetland wool panties and you have the same kind of vestal physicality that makes the sears roebuck catalog, with its artless spread of locker room lingerie, the world's premier stroke book and i feel totally eroticized as if i'd been kidnapped by william masters and Virginia Johnson sequestered in the wine cellars of ernest and julio gallo and finally dumped in the pungent laundry hamper of Sylvester Stallone where i forge a kind of psychosexual tantric mind-lock with el exigente the demanding one whose ability to keep me on the verge of reichian orgasmic unconsciousness rivals nijinski's astonishing ability to pause at the height of his jump complete the 1040 long form and float softly to the ground

heck you know me my name's billy my father runs the vomitorium over on oakhurst and elm street you must have seen me a zillion times 'cause i cut through your backyard on the way to school every day heck you must know my mom too y'ever see that commercial for the kung fu institute of london where jean shrimpton and lord snowden fend off a gang of skinheads with nunchakus? well that's my mom doing the voice-over at the end in new jersey call 201-795-3384 like freud, my dad referred affectionately to his children as fratzen and wormen—brats and worms one Sunday evening he pointed to a couple seated on the sofa and said these are your godparents and in the event of a midair collision or an outbreak of malaria that kills your poor mother and myself you'll be remanded into the custody of these two dear devoted friends who'll provide all the creature comforts a creature like you deserves i hated these two with a fervor that very nearly imperiled my health equally i loathed their son whose cankerous smirk i can barely contemplate without retching here's a kid who decided between attending yale or harvard by killing the family's irish wolfhound and reading its entrails

he was consuming alcohol with the reckless avidity of a hollywood indian his hands were like the hands of italian men caressing and pinching the cheeks of his own behind instead of putting kahlъa in his white russians the bartender had mistakenly added maikua juice a powerful plant-derived hallucinogen used by the jнvaro tribesmen of the eucadorian amazon his head was a vegematic he put a cabbage in one ear and shook out coleslaw from the other i want to tell you something he said sullenly

i can't talk now i'm watching bruno hauptmann, bruno hauptmann she says sullenly i can't talk now i'm reading the part of blondie's himalayas where dagwood resplendent in a ceremonial fur-trimmed robe and dome-shaped gold brocade hat has sleepwalked into the kitchen of the dalai lama's lhasa fortress and topped off one of his famous late-night triple-tiered sandwiches with a large oozy pat of yak butter she says sullenly i can't talk now i'm at the kentucky derby four horses are entered: the butler with a college education, carole lombard says, basil blacknell otolaryngologist, and studying the yanomamo basil blacknell otolaryngologist is the odds-on favorite, carole lombard says is the distant long shot, studying the yanomamo and the butler with a college education are 6–2 and 7–5 bets respectively, she says sullenly perhaps already i've said too much, she says suddenly