In this essay, which will take a discursive look at the current cultural literature on the Void, we will be discussing how the asshole (or date, bunghole, chocco chasm, et al) is paradoxically substantive despite being a lacuna, elegantly summed by Baudrillard when he said after a night of vodka and
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That’s why I call it that.
(I really hope it doesn't crop it stupidly, if it does it's worth opening trust me)