Monday, May 02, 2005


I got an A for that Humanities writing...

And when I grow up to be an alchoholic I want to write like this

Charles Bukowski bar poet extrordinare.

When I lived in Salt Lake by myself in a little shithole of a one bedroom bungalo I'd walk home from a bar drunk, lay on my futon and think those long dark 3 am thoughts. The kind of thoughts that come to you after spending a good portion of the evening pounding beer and trying to find a girl to dance with at the Blue Goat. I probably should've drank less beer and learn to swing. But I found a certain humor in watching the girls get all gooey pantied out there with the gay guy who could dance. Knowing they were going home to a night of handcramps. Just like me.