/lit/ - Literature

>canterbury tales

>And up the window did he hastily,
>And out his erse he put full privily
>Over the buttock, to the haunche bone.
>and therewith spake this clerk, this Absolon,
>“Speak, sweete bird, I know not where thou art.”
>This Nicholas anon let fly a fart,
>As great as it had been a thunder dent
>That with the stroke he was well nigh y-blent
>But he was ready with his iron hot,
>And Nicholas amid the erse he smote.

mfw

>>11187394
>>11181951
>tell me about evola