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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

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WSB reads 23 random sentences from Naked Lunch

1 But the subway is moving.

2 smell absence hits the nose first because all organic life has smell… stopping of smell is felt like darkness to the eyes, silence to the ears, stress and weightlessness to the balance and location sense….

3 The old bullfighter’s sword buckles on bone and whistles into the heart of the Espontaneo, pins his unconsummate valor to the stands.

4 “And a condition in the head.”

5 (Ergot is a fungus disease grows on bad wheat. Dur-ing the Middle Ages Europe was periodically decimated by outbreaks of Ergotism, which was called St. Anthony’s fire. Gangrene frequently supervenes, the legs turn black and drop off. )

6 “They go off, here, kid.” The Sailor put a hand to the back of his head. He camped obscenely as he opened the package, a complex arrangement of slots and over-lays.

7 Windowless cubicle with blue walls. Dirty pink curtain cover the door. Red bugs crawl on the wall, cluster in corners. Naked boy in the middle of the room twang a two-string ouad, trace an arabesque on the floor. Another boy lean back on the bed smoking keif and blow smoke over his erect cock. They play game with tarot cards on the bed to see who fuck who. Cheat. Fight. Roll on the floor snarling and spitting like young animals. The loser sit on the floor chin on knees, licks a broken tooth. The winner curls up on the bed pretending to sleep. Whenever the other boy come near kick at him. Ali seize him by one ankle, tuck the ankle under his arm pit, lock his arm around the calf. The boy kick desperately at Ali’s face. Other ankle pinioned. Ali tilt the boy back on his shoulders. The boy’s cock extends along his stomach, float free pulsing. Ali put his hands over his head. Spit on his cock. The other sighs deeply as Ali slides his cock in. The mouths grind together smearing blood. Sharp musty odor of penetrated rectum. Nimun drive in like a wedge, force jism out the other cock in long hot spurts. (The author has observed that Arab cocks tend to be wide and wedge shaped.)

8 “Maybe he figures to sell them for toilet paper. Is this crap for your own personal use?”

9 “Smart young Latah keep his eye on the ball. I got him working in one of my plants as an expeditor.”

10 “My asshole is occluding.”

11 The subway sweeps by with a black blast of iron.

12 The Crab, aged Dean Of Lush Workers, puts on his crustacean suit to prowl the graveyard shift… with steel claws pulls the gold teeth and crowns of any Hop sleep with his mouth open…. If the Hop comes up on him The Crab rears back claws snapping to offer dubious battle on the plains of Queens.

13 “I could bribe him, of course.”

14 “‘Well, landsake, Si, I was just aiming to administer our complimentary high colonic free and gratis on Thanksgiving Day. K. E. musta sold me the wrong kit again….’ “

15 “Just do it.” The Lieutenant hung up.

16 Mr. Hyslop, bored and resigned: “Oh Gawd! He’s at it again.” He waves the Jolly Roger listlessly. A.J., surrounded and fighting against overwhelming odds, throws back his head and makes with the hog-call. Immediately a thousand rutting Eskimos pour in grunting and squealing, faces tumescent, eyes hot and red, lips purple, fall on the American women. (Eskimos have a rutting season when the tribes meet in short Summer to disport themselves in orgies. Their faces swell and lips turn purple. ) A House Dick with cigar two feet long sticks his head in through the wall: “Have you got a menagerie in here?” Hassan wrings his hands: “A shambles! A filthy shambles! By Allah I never see anything so downright nasty!” He whirls on A.J. who is sitting on a sea chest, parrot on shoulder, patch over one eye, drinking rum from a tankard. He scans the horizon with a huge brass telescope. Hassan: “You cheap Factualist bitch! Go and never darken my rumpus room again!”

17 Adolescent angels sing on shithouse walls of the world.

18 It’s the coke horrors…. Sit back and play it cool and shoot in plenty of that GI M.

19 The sea chest of the dead man is in the Embassy, and the vice consul breaks the news to mother.

20 “‘“That croaker’s really certified,” he say…. Well, I guess one hand didn’t know what the other was doing when I give him a jar of Saniflush by error…. So I reckon he’s had his too.’

21 Dilapidated Disease in 1920 clothes like she sleep in them ever since undulates across dreary neonlighted Chicago street… dead weight of the Dear Dead Days hanging in the air like an earthbound ghost. Disease: (canned heat tenor). “Find the weakest baboon.”

22 “We regard it as a misfortune… a sickness… certainly nothing to be censored or uh sanctioned any more than say… tuberculosis…. Yes,” he repeated firmly as if Carl had raised an objection…. “Tuberculosis. On the other hand you can readily see that any illness imposes certain, should we say obligations, certain necessities of a prophylactic nature on the authorities concerned with public health, such necessities to be imposed, needless to say, with a minimum of inconvenience and hardship to the unfortunate individual who has, through no fault of his own, become uh infected…. That is to say, of course, the minimum hardship compatible with adequate protection of other individuals who are not so infected…. We do not find obligatory vaccination for smallpox an unreasonable measure…. Nor isolation for certain contagious diseases…. I am sure you will agree that individuals infected with hurumph what the French call ‘Les Maladies galantes’ heh heh heh should be compelled to undergo treatment if they do not report voluntarily.” The doctor went on chuckling and rocking in his chair like a mechanical toy…. Carl realized that he was expected to say something.

23 “Hey, Skinny,” he said, “want to get screwed?”