In the house of screaming virgins I'm the necrofucking freak. (1 Viewer)


Founding member
That's what makes him so great. He's like a big child, and he asks questions that you or I would think were stupid or embarrassing. But the answers to those stupid questions teach you everything about the places he visits. He's kind of an accidental genius, that guy. Seriously.

Gerard K H Love

Appreciate your friends
Do we need to start the Huell Howser thread? I like him even more since my lovely wife can't stand to here him say, "golly", over and over. His show is easy to watch because of his remedial reaction to simple things. I hear he either lives in or frequents Pioneertown CA.


Founding member
You can't post your poems just anywhere in the forum, Ace. They are all in one thread for ease of ignoring. Look around. If you're clever you'll find it.
Sweet dreams, to you, too, M'Lady.

Oops, that's not for me? Damn.

Sweet dreams to all who are going in that direction.

This is such a great site.

A digital friend with human skin.

But no faces; only masks of verbal perception.

I agree on that, Bukfan. It would be annoying to find poems anywhere. Like one about the beauty of spring while you're discussing an entirely different topic.

Thank you, mjp, for creating this Bukowski universe and for letting me be a part of it. I apologize for typing your name wrong on the first page of this thread, I was misreading the sidebar in my excitement.
I wouldn't mind if there was an exception for people to post their poems in their own 'New Blood'-threads. It seems, there are a bunch of them who like to do this. And if that's the way, they want to introduce themselfes - okay.

I wanted to do exactly that. But the "New Blood" threads could easily evolve into "My Own Poetry" threads and I like it if things are tricky. It makes you find out more about this delicate site instead of profiling your lyrical efforts neurotically. Everyone can type a link to his own website or a community of authors in order to show others his works. Or her works. Or hermaphrodite works. :eek:
I'm sitting here on my couch with a cup of coffee and my rat Penelope hopping around, stopping me from typing now and then when I fondle her. Or she climbs up my naked back giving me those scratches that look like I've been whiplashed by a smurf.
I had a long phone call with my older brother last night, nicknamed Lemmi.
He told me this anecdote:
When he was reading Factotum once, he was drunk as a fish. He couldn't focus on the lines anymore and started vomitting onto the copy. He cleaned the book, but some of his vomit remained, of course.Years later he gave Factotum to a friend and didn't get his copy back.Now he wants to find out that guy's phone number, they lost contact along the way. If that copy of Factotum was in a lab, the medical detectives could still identify my brother. He needs to have that copy back.
Do you think puking onto one of Bukowski's books can be seen as true dedication to the subject?
If I have bored you, then that's the way it is. Can't help it.

Maybe I set up the whole thing wrong and should have placed it in a comic strip with a Bukowski fan telling his anecdotes and a lousy interviewer asking that question. Irony...anyway...


Founding member
Maybe it's just a stupid subject, consider that. What's next, posts about you and your friends betting at the track, fighting in alleys behind bars and fucking "whores"? Shoot for a little more originality than that, brother.
Value judgements are a dead-end and the desire to be interesting drives far too many would-be creative efforts. Tall-tales are fun, a good spark; but a good spark can also arrive by a cup of coffee or vengeance. The Art only cares that you show up fit, fancied and furious.
Is that slice of salami still in my DVD rack?

Shoot the dead horse again.
I deserve punishment 4 my stupidity.
Certainly no stories about fucking "whores" will follow.
Nor betting or fighting, because I'm not that kind of guy.
Got slightly misunderstood.
Because I was aiming at the target with a banana in my hand.
Dork. Dustbin. Accident.

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