February 28,1954. It is the last Friday of the month. I make my customary visit to the brothel. It is most important to keep every aspect of one's life as regulated as possible and within a strict time-table. The simpleton will ask: why does the greatest Architect-Philosopher of our times seek the company of a whore, when he has the ample-bosomed World of Plastic Arts at his feet? I answer, so: 1) I am French.
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