i'm from Omaha. the Rueben is from Omaha. that fucker prolly asks for it on wheat bread with turkey instead of corned beef so he can watch his figure...
Hank probably wrote too much about drinking, women, being poor, working, and trying to figure out just what the hell is really going on out there in this world of ours for this guy's liking.
...you know, just like the rest of us.
he probably pays $7.00 for a beer and $10.00 for a Bourbon and coke, and $1000 for a hooker to make him feel like a man. being a real poet with real thoughts and insights? Priceless.
it'd be one thing if he said, "you know i never got into Bukowski. his style didn't make sense to me..." or whatever. but to dismiss one of the most important names in 20th century literature like that? fuck this guy...his hands are probably as soft as fucking pillow without the feathers. i don't know if Hank would've liked anything i've written, or liked my tattoos, or my taste in booze, but i can say but what i've read that he would've been honest in his approach, not just insulting and slandorous. CHILDREN? is that what this fucker is calling us? because Hank isn't "complicated" enough for the College crowd, or nice-enough for Oprah's book club, or dull enough for the High School? Hank did more living before 40 than most of those elite, efitte, intellectual fuckers did by the time they died.
i'll make you a Reuben that'll make you cum, fucker. then i'll shit on your plate and make you eat that, too.