“ Who knows what I was up to? Maybe I was up to nothing. Maybe I am just being myself. Maybe that’s all I really am, a lapper of cunt, the slavish mouth for some woman’s hole. Eat! And so be it! Maybe the wisest solution is for me to live on all fours! Crawl through life feasting on pussy, and leave the rightings of wrongs and the fathering of families to the upright creatures! Who needs monuments erected in his name, when there is this banquet walking the streets?
Philip Roth, Portnoy’s Complaint.
the raggiest of bags reminded me today just how filthy this hilarious little book is.
