Constantine, who had become clear after his first Dionysian evenings at Würzburg, that the university had to pay a so decorous as sustainable visit, first roamed a little space by itself as such a Altstudent or graduate student leader at the X-ray and Sanderring, Stadtaus looking round at the Botanical Institute as Hubland, auszuerspähen the right starting point and attack.
"Whoa!" - What he found there?
A small, almost innocent notice to the effect that this evening at 19.30 clock in the wake of General Studies at Sanderring a famous gay guest lecturer, Mr. Pete Reuben Randolf Dooley, on "The Genes Of Gender Studies" in the main auditorium a lecture in English with will discourage subsequent open discussion.
This pleased Constantine, of course, by having the roast duck but quite abspaziert, even probably, for thus he would have to again just a plucked with two or three pretzels, a leisurely to enjoyed Silvaner in the right beer garden, pounce, the ridge between boot times applied a so maybe funny how purposeful evening to look forward to.
Unfortunately, it seemed at first, so to speak, Constantine was talking to a theoretical physicist and his girlfriend, a philosophically very skilled Classicist deromaßen found that he still drank two Silvaner and arrived too late with the lecture still a good half hour, he alswo quite obliquely diskretest back up yet to set.
He was right on. The little man down there had talked himself into a kind of the most remarkable ecstasy, it was weird how everything was clear that there would be hinansteigern shortly to a decision proposition, a battle cry, a mantra, the quintessence of his stupidity out. And of course the sentence finally came. (It sat still something extra embarrassing retarding moment, then came but, as expected, for Hauptergusse.)
"Gender mens, gender Means you are somebody!" (more ...)
