Later, in man’s primary produce, trash, the baboon eats. Strutting cynicism’s body part, the ass, as it annotates the exchange rate between us. And if that ass could talk, it’d say: «You’ll be silenced first, I can speak, eat, and shit wherever I want.» It knows no boundaries when it speaks, the baboon, but has a language that reaches its goal, when it sees us seeing it eat, there’s no doubt what it hisses: «You baboon!»
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MK