Little warning: do not spend a few hours drinking coffee and alternating between Bukowski’s poetry-shaped phrases and Solzhenitsyn’s Gulag Archipelago (the abridged version). You will have the unbearable urge to fly to Los Angeles, buy a shovel, dig the bastard up, and beat him to a second death with his own mewling self-pity and fake tough-guy bullshit.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
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Yeah I guess he is a pretty good read but god who would want to be such an asshole?
haha you roasted Bukowski!