Like most people born after the first nuclear explosion, I am hard to impress.
Slash was on television today talking to my two favourite television personalities. "Fuck you Slash," I said to my television. "You haven't done shit since you played on Steve Jones' 'Fire and Gasoline'."
Earlier in the day I met someone in the Business who did impress me. He was at Charles Bukowski's Viking Hall show in Dope City back in '79. "Bukowski was fucked up alright. But he wasn't half as fucked up as the crowd was," he informed me.
All I have is the dvd. I would much rather have the memory of seeing the Master, however faint the memory might be.
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I was quite drunk when I saw Bukowski. I don't remember much. I was with a beautiful young artist named Claudia. I was also with some guy who was thinking the same thing as me. Trouble was, he had the car. I spent much of the reading trying to figure out how to lose him as soon he dropped us off at Claudia's house. My ability to appreciate the finer points of the literary arts was diminished. Claudia eventually ended up with some rich guy from Spain who promised to set her up with a studio in Barcelona. I heard she moved back to San Francisco later. I think Bukowski put on a pretty good show.
One day this war is going to end...
Lieutenant Colonel Bill Kilgore
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