"I'd love to remind all you Tesla drivers that I warned you 17 years ago that no good would come of your buying choice, but you didn't listen."
Jeremy Clarkson, professional gobshite.
gold in your eye by Charles Bukowski
I got into my BMW and drove down to my bank to pick up my American Express Gold Card.
told the girl at the desk what I
wanted.
you’re Mr. Chinaski,” she
said.
yes, you want some
I.d.?”
oh no, we know you...”
I slipped the card into my wallet
went back to the parking lot
got into the BMW (paid for, straight
cash)
and decided to drive down to the liquor store
for a case of fine
wine.
on the way, I further decided to write a poem
about the whole thing: the BMW, the bank, the
Gold Card
just to piss off the
critics
the writers
the readers
who much preferred the old poems about me
sleeping on park benches while
freezing and dying of cheap wine and
malnutrition.
this poem is for those who think that
a man can only be a creative
genius
at the very
edge
even though they never had the
guts to
try it.
“Sometimes, I feel discriminated against, but it does not make me angry. It merely astonishes me. How can any deny themselves the pleasure of my company? It’s beyond me.”
Zora Neale Hurston, I think
Asked "How does it feel to be the best guitar player?" Jimi Hendricks replied, "Ask Roy Clark."
Accomplishing the impossible means only that the boss will add it to your regular duties.
~Doug Larson
