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I went to the Guess-Who girls kibbutz. As I thought, it was just like the army; but instead of military duties, it was garden-farming desert-soil. They even lived in: group barracks, and had a mess hall, army same all-just. I may have stayed one night. Miss New York threw the money at me, hitting the wall, just above my head; and just above where I was standing: the door; which I thought quite
ungrateful; wrapped in a wad, with a rubber band. The impression I remember:
Miss Irish was in love with me; but wouldn't show it, and what am I to do: it but assumed I whomed there with them, but I couldn't relate, so far out of my domain, not physics understand; they were army same, but I wasn't in love with her which might require, a mighty fine jig: army barracks but with a woman; of what sort of whirl-spin; do I have to whatever-her; was not there; and I was not staying to requite it.
Even if the feeling were to be mutual, and I would not let-it, because I just spent three years military; and I wasn't going to re-beenlist. And there was also: that I was not going to do charity work for a country, that would not allow me to be a citizen, because I was not of the Whodiac. Do I look an idiot. The constant complaint: "I am discriminated against." Dah - I may have said it before; ya discriminate. I have to be a Jew and join your side, to be in the club. And at the same time, you get to be in my club or woe is you, even though I not yours; and why is that a problem again? Moving-on.
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