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Naked Lunch is a novel by American writer William S. Burroughs, originally published in 1959. The book is structured as a series of loosely connected vignettes. Burroughs stated that the chapters are intended to be read in any order. wikipedia
WSB reads 23 random sentences from Naked Lunch
1 A. J.: “So there I was Hat on my stomach at thirty thousand feet.”
2 white Hash… mangled insect screams .
3 From the roof of the R.C. we survey a scene of un-paralleled horror. IND’s stand around in front of the cafe tables, long streamers of saliva hanging off their chins, stomachs noisily churning, others ejaculate at the sight of women. Latahs imitate the passersby with monkey-like obscenity. Junkies have looted the drugstores and fix on every street corner…. Catatonics decorate the parks…. Agitated schizophrenics rush through the streets with mangled, inhuman cries. A group of P.R.‘s — Partially Reconditioned — have surrounded some homosexual tourists with horrible knowing smiles showing the Nordic skull beneath in double exposure.
4 BERGER (sharply): “No, that wouldn’t do at all…. Send in someone else.”
5 So when I come back he hands me a package and says, “That’s fifteen dollars…. Be careful.”
6 Tangier, 1959.
7 “A pen wiper, he says.”
8 The Sailor’s grey felt hat and black overcoat hung twisted in atrophied yen-wait. Morning sun outlined The Sailor in the orange-yellow flame of junk. He had a paper napkin under his coffee cup — mark of those who do a lot of sitting over coffee in the plazas, restaurants, terminals and waiting rooms of the world. A junky, even at the Sailor’s level, runs on junk Time and when he makes his importunate irruption into the Time of others, like all petitioners, he must wait. (How many coffees in an hour? )
9 A. J.: “Sorry, lady. Discipline you know.”
10 Now Lee felt the first seismic tremors of Old Faithful the Cold Burn. He pushed Miguel’s spirit into the hall with a kind, firm tendril.
11 P.L.: “Now look, kid, let’s put it this way. The French have dispossessed you of your birthright.”
12 Johnny extracts a candiru from Mary’s cunt with his calipers…. He drops it into a bottle of mescal where it turns into a Maguey worm…. He gives her a douche of jungle bone-softener, her vaginal teeth flow out mixed with blood and cysts…. Her cunt shines fresh and sweet as spring grass…. Johnny licks Mary’s cunt, slow at first, with rising excitement parts the lips and licks inside feeling the prickle of pubic hairs on his tumescent tongue…. Arms thrown back, breasts poin-ing straight up, Mary lies transfixed with neon nails. …Johnny moves up her body, his cock with a shining round opal of lubricant at the open slit, slides through her pubic hairs and enters her cunt to the hilt, drawn in by a suction of hungry flesh…. His face swells with blood, green lights burst behind his eyes and he falls with a scenic railway through screaming girls….
13 I hear they got Chapin with a doll. This old eunuch dick just sat in the precinct basement hanging a doll of him day and night, year in year out. And when Chapin hanged in Connecticut, they find this old creep with his neck broken.
14 Mark is standing in the doorway. He wears a turtle-neck black sweater. Cold, handsome, narcissistic face. Green eyes and black hair. He looks at Johnny with a slight sneer, his head on one side, hands on his jacket pockets, a graceful hoodlum ballet. He jerk his head and Johnny walk ahead of him into the bedroom. Mary follow. “All right, boys,” she say, sitting down naked on a pink silk dais overlooking the bed. “Get with it!”
15 “Smart young Latah keep his eye on the ball. I got him working in one of my plants as an expeditor.”
16 [wrath are stored, He has loosed the fatal lightning of his terrible swift
17 I pass a hand in front of the man’s eyes.
18 “On spec?”
19 Iris is one of Benway’s projects. “The human body can run on sugar alone, God damn it…. I am aware that certain of my learned colleagues, who are attempting to belittle my genius work, claim that I put vitamins and proteins into Iris’s sugar clandestinely…. I chal-lenge these nameless assholes to crawl up out of their latrines and run a spot analysis on Iris’s sugar and her tea. Iris is a wholesome American cunt. I deny categorically that she nourishes herself on semen. And let me take this opportunity to state that I am a reputable scientist, not a charlatan, a lunatic, or a pretended worker of miracles…. I never claimed that Iris could subsist exclusive on photosynthesis…. I did not say she could breathe in carbon dioxide and give off oxygen — I con-fess I have been tempted to experiment being of course restrained by my medical ethics…. In short, the vile slanders of my creeping opponents will inevitably fall back onto them and come to roost like a homing stool pigeon.”
20 Mr. Hyslop, A. J.‘s secretary, looks up from his comic book: “The Sweitzers liquefy already.”
21 “Barefoot boy, check thy bullheads with the ma-dame.”
22 “Man he done seen the light,” said one of the Negro Bearers.
23 “Are homosexuals classed as deviants?’