Torn between the four-volume Forcellini and Van Reed’s ‘Waei Shōwa,’
the casual libertine relishes the metre of ‘Pēdīcābō ego vōs et irrumābō’
while not shying away from the formative influence of ‘Urotsukidōji.’
But while he indulges in Roman literotica and the occasional hentai,
there is one guilty pleasure he would never admit—seeking the longest
sentence in ‘Der Tod des Vergil.’