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Caravan in flood in Bad Kötzting, Bavaria (2015)
Photo: Armin Weigel / picture alliance / dpa
It's still summer, or whatever the broken jet stream left of it.
It's raining.
People will get used to it.
The main thing is that the jobs are safe and that there are free beer and balloons at party election stands in the city centers through which the residents paddle.
The economy has reacted, colorful boats and shapely rainwear are being offered.
Yes, the climate.
In more southern countries, Nestlé has taken over the last weak water sources, and there is good spring water in plastic bottles.
It's 56 degrees in California.
Why get upset.
You wouldn't get to anything else.
You get used to everything, people.
Also of holidays in your own country.
In the amphibious caravan.
In the rain.
It's good for the skin, and when the rivers and lakes cross, it's good for the body-positive body.
Then you can swim more.
Some politician talks about the coal industry and the trucks on the waterproof television.
It is needed for planning security and because of solidarity.
Jobs.
Economic boom.
Nobody listens to politicians anymore, nobody believes them.
What also. They say nothing relevant to the masses, it is about higher goals. The compromise, the discourse, the exchange, the consideration of different positions. Or also: What do you expect if there is not enough for a job as CEO and the job in parliament is paid so ridiculously? The majority have got used to using their minds only to operate Apple TV. What good should thinking be when no one has the power to fight absolute madness? It's all about tearing down the last few years with fun and avoiding pain.
Rudi is sitting in the caravan, it's raining outside, he wanted to have a little sex, and before that he read his favorite newspaper, NZZ, for the well-groomed conservative: a little bit about gender gaga, left cancel culture, overly sensitive minorities, the normal conservative fodder, and then he read an article on the female genitals.
Rudi choked.
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Sibylle Berg
GRM: Brainfuck.
novel
Published by Kiepenheuer & Witsch
Number of pages: 640
Published by Kiepenheuer & Witsch
Number of pages: 640
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"Should I be deprived of the last bit of fun in the well-groomed GV?" He thinks. "Me and all the normal ones," he thinks. So straight men. It had been so easy, penis in-out, woman knew from women's newspapers that it was okay to fake an orgasm and look a little for the G-spot. Everyone was happy. To some extent.
They had all learned that women had a line between their legs, were almost always frigid, not so interested in sex, and now he was reading that his penis was useless.
At least not sexually, that it didn't matter if you had a C-tube as a man, and all the movies he'd seen to educate yourself were - wrong.
Rudi's favorite sentence: It just needs a real one ... (paraphrase for penis [which he liked to use for lesbian women and professors]) - no longer necessary.
Rudi looked outside, a dog swam by.
He sighed.
He was concerned about getting used to some type of sex in which he should pay attention to Beate's genitals.
Rudi tore up the newspaper.
