Meditations of a piss artist

Right now though, it was still broad daylight, so he had the place all to himself. Makati Girl talked to just about anyone. Of course, he would go with her.

As in the unforeseen workings of mimetic magic, there did then arise from the heat-swollen earth, the vapors of a slight precipitation to come. The one that was dormant, she interpreted to be his sex drive.

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He had no respect for intellectual property, especially not Third World intellectual property. He tried to imagine Mr. Her mother was trying to diversify and expand their financial interests through marriage now that the sugar trade was down.

She hardly wore any makeup. Jojo gently disengaged as they stepped onto the escalator, Aenid on the higher step and himself just below her. She took his arm and placed it around her waist while they walked through the mall, as she giddily swung the bag of lanzones. Also, her father was an haciendero and she did have a beauty contest title and that was worth some points.

Even the boys in class coyly masked their genitalia with carefully placed hands or a bent leg. He gave them quite a giggle though in private and something to tell their friends back home about how bad and crazy the Manila boys were. Beltran had told his class in his gruff, somewhat muffled voice which was his normal way of speaking how he had been turned on to painting by those photo essays in Life magazine about the New York art scene.

They rode the taxi in silence to her condo. Aenid gave Jojo some money to get her a kilo of lanzones from a fruit vendor at the pedestrian flyover. At least he was decent enough to tell them what was in the siopao. With insouciant grace, he zipped himself up. Then he could call it a multimedia experience.

Jojo wondered what would become of the monkey now that Benny was dead. Jojo felt triumphant, a personal sense of accomplishment. Those academics who were forever analyzing and categorizing and setting limits and gradations on thought amused him.

That poor junky just wanted her to stay pure forever. Makati Girl looked puzzled and stooped to pick up some of the lanzones that had rolled out of the bag onto the tiles. Every M-W-F, Jojo came into the classroom to find paragraphs culled from art critics, painstakingly printed out in neat block letters on the chalk board.

Maybe it was because his was an astrological water sign, Pisces, that he could make water with such skill, channeling through well-considered sphincter and priapic muscle control, the purposeful and selective release of his electromagnetically charged bodily fluids, delicately balancing the rise and ebb of ions and protons in the atmosphere.

The fruit were brown and bruised from all the excitement.The best contemporary Philippine short stories and poems. We Filipinos Are Mild Drinkers by Alejandro Roces. We Filipinos are mild drinkers. We drink for only three good reasons. We drink when we are very happy.1/5(1).

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Department Wall Art. Sep 10,  · best philippine short stories: meditations of a piss artist meditations of a piss artist by menchu aquino sarmiento.

MEDITATIONS OF A PISS ARTIST by Menchu Aquino Sarmiento [pic] © by Copper Sturgeon. Andres Serrano’s Piss Christ is a photograph that is widely known as intensely controversial since it was first exhibited inmaking it one of the most hotly debated works of art ever created in the twentieth century.

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Meditations of a piss artist
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