Philosophy also can be an in-bed activity.
Not satisfied with just my declaring her to be an excellent lover, she demanded a more deliberate definition.
I tried and - lo! -
Having a perfect body and making skillful use of it for the purposes of the simplest game on Earth makes an excellent lover.
And then I had a blasphemous dream where
...in the dark of the open-air park cinema where I used to go as a boy I met alive V. I. Lenin and two times slapped him on his belly with a stick ...
In the morning I hit the tail of a water queue. One hour waiting to get two pails.
When I came to the Editorial House the same huge indifferent padlock hung on the front door. I returned home and took the kids for a walk.
However, on our way to the Central Park I saw the Editorial House door was open. We double backed home again.
At the work place I rendered one article.
Wagrum told me about the three Armenians (one female) of Karin-Tak village caught in an ambush and butchered with knives.
<!-- Even possession of sophisticated firearms cannot civilize the brute of Man.-->
With the gas being supplied the air in the town is breathable again.
A week ago all these streets were hazed with bluish smarting smoke from the innumerable woodburner pipes stuck out from each and every window and hole in basements' walls.
At home half a page from ULYSSES.
Instead of yoga I tried to cut off the bottom of a milk bottle and convert it into an oil lamp chimney.
The fragile spare part of our lamp crashed a day ago when they were chasing out an arrogant rat in Underground.
The project turned out to be a hard nut to crack, I only spoiled two milk bottles at no avail. It's just a 'no go'. I'd better think of something else.
It's ten past nine p.m.
All are in bed; the candle next to my blocknote is almost burnt up.
Good night to all, be they of wealth or misery.