savana

So much to say to today and so little time to actually get it out, but first... I've got to mention one of my all time favorites authors, Bukowski. I went back and read his book Women, this weekend and as usual its filthy, dirty, riddled with drugs and alcohol yet still touching and bordering on innocent. There's two feelings that tend to surface when reading Bukowski, one is this overwhelming need to simply sit on his front porch, drinking, smoking and saying nothing, and the other is to sit across from him at his kitchen table drinking his vodka and 7up and babbling incoherently about everything and nothing, alternating between oddball silences and fighting the urge to continuously glance over your shoulder waiting from some wingnut girlfriend of his to suddenly surface. The thing about Bukowski that continuously gets me, is that- he manages to somehow be, both- a sorry bastard and completely lovable. In Women, I find myself rooting for him constantly.. weird, I know. Gotta run, everyone's actually showing up to work on time, which is rare ... *insert Twilight Theme Song*