he was so drunk when we arrived, had to touch fingers to the glass table top to keep standing up, his 黄酒 spilling to the sides, splashing on the glass, sparkling in the frays of his braided goatee. they were laughing at him, i think they were laughing at him. constant repetition, “祖国就是悲剧”, “祖国就是悲剧” and “好东西“。And what about this? and this? They were making fun. End of the night silences. Another grunt, he doesn’t give a fuck. He has 好东西! The motherland is simply a tragedy! We follow, think, repeat. Off to bed. and he’s still leading our way.
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who is he?
he is the boss of my friend Gao Ling in Shanghai, a well-known Chinese artist who likes to drink and likes to swim!
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