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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2010-02-01 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] | Înscris în bibliotecă de jkloungsuh They are not horses, they are large and shaggy scholars. Sometimes they look dignified and great. Their voice is the voice of certain frogs, a species of enormous croaking. Wildebeest, exact and sober Wildebeest! Defrocked Franciscans, they roam the plains teaching the grasses to sing and to ejaculate. They are not hyenas, they are Wild Dogs. Beneath the surface of the plains they hunt cocaine and the elusive Wildebeest. In their features we see the features of other creatures: The Downy Woodpecker. The Humpbacked Whale. The Wildebeest ejaculate. They are heavy headed mammals and it makes them sad, it makes them hang their heads which gives them a formal air during lectures and group discussions. Their stamping and their waste discipline and rejuvenate the grass. It's been years since the Gods took away their pants. They are not badgers— they are Wild Dogs. They are great kissers and experts. They are specialists in refrigeration At night they burrow beneath the plains in the fevered hunt of fresh cocaine. At dawn they see the Wildebeest.
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