Bukowski is a bad influence.

"'Wow, it's Friday night, what are you going to do? Just sit there?' Well, yeah. Because there's nothing out there. It's stupidity."

"Who does like people? You show me him and I'll show you why I don't like people. Period." ~ Charles Bukowski

There's nothing out there. It's stupidity. Bukowski had it wrong, there's plenty out there and it is beyond stupid. It is mind numbing, ball squeezing, Dear Lord fuck me back in to consciousness retarded. People fucking love it though.

Yeah, lets say it is Friday and Rebecca Black was abducted in Cabo before she could become an internet sensation. There are co-workers, there are friends from high school, there is your crippling sense of social responsibility. The herd instinct pushing you to run with people you don't like and can't trust. I'm sure there was a time when a person greatly benefited from such notions but no longer. Somewhere along the way we changed. Unfortunately our metamorphosis was left incomplete. As interrupted and forgotten as the porn mags that were kicked under my bed the moment my internet was installed. What are we now? Grizzly Bears. Or something less dramatic. Fuck it, more dramatic. Jaguars draped in buffalo skins. We're running, God knows we're running. If we had any sense it'd be from each other but we can't break from the pack.

And so we go out. Bad music is played loudly on poor speakers. Partly because it's like that in the movies but mostly to stifle conversation. And thank God for that. I'd hate to miss out on the well dressed moron that can't understand that it's possible to be obnoxious and boring at the same time. Keep yelling you poor bastard because the second you stop you disappear. He's a small part in the whole thing.

There's that guy. He's always been too nice to anything with a vagina. He heard somewhere that laughter is the way to a woman's heart. He's told knock-knocks and why'd they cross the roads? He has entire SNL skits memorized. Now he blurts out, "I love lamp!" and scans the room with frantic hungry eyes. Oh yeah, and this one time on The Office....

Girl, you're looking fine. Your make up is a bit heavy, I guess your proactive isn't working quite as advertised. Music? Pretty much everything I guess. Books? Who knew wallflowers had so many perks? You're la tabla rosa, an empty vessel into which I can pour my hopes, my dreams, and my seed. You could be my everything darlin, I'm sure I could be something to you too, but I really don't feel like thinking of all the ways I could fix you while you're wiggling on top of me screaming Daddy.

“Boring damned people. All over the earth. Propagating more boring damned people. What a horror show. The earth swarmed with them.”

Bastard always says it better than I does. Uses less words too.