Charles Bukowski

The Great Slob

I was always a natural slob I liked to lay upon the bed in undershirt, stained of course, and with cigarette holes shoes off, beer bottle in hand trying to shake off a difficult night say with a woman still around walking the floor, complaining about this and that and I'd work up a belch and say "HEY, YOU DON'T LIKE IT? THEN GET YOUR ASS OUT OF HERE!" I really loved myself, I really loved my slob-self and they seemed to also always leaving but almost always coming back.

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