you get a star for effort

anonymous asked:

I have a hypothesis. I believe that fictionkin who aren't kin for the sake of coping or anything really want to be famous without putting effort into it. Like, imagine having a huge fanbase and a popular piece of media starring you. Who wouldn't want that? These people turn that fantasy into a reality, and if that means taking the identity of a fictional character, so be it. Meanwhile they placebo themselves to the point where they get memories and other things that come with being a fictionkin.


ARIES, keep it together, and keep it clean. i know you can.
TAURUS,  i can see you eyeing the stars, so what are you waiting for? fear will only win if you wait. 
GEMINI,  you’re holding a dozen roses, so enjoy it while it lasts. change doesn’t happen overnight, but i admire your effort.
CANCER , i had a dream your wish came true, have faith in something. i love you to a limitless degree.
LEO, stay warm this winter and keep on growing. the soil will never be cold enough to stop you.
VIRGO, believe in yourself. we all do.
LIBRA, i’m glad you’ve made it so far.  it’ll only get it better from here.
SCORPIO, work hard but make sure to have some time for yourself. you are a gold champagne feeling, my definition of content.
SAGITTARIUS, dare to be yourself even when it’d be easier to hide. you are something to watch for.
CAPRICORN, square one isn’t a failure, but rather a chance. don’t waste it.
AQUARIUS, you’ll be the first person to breathe underwater if you get through this. hold on.
PISCES,  continue the drive, this highway doesn’t end for miles.  i’ll always be in the passenger seat, whenever you need me.
real talk

otabek is definitely the most Extra™ and over-the-top romantic dude?? bro waited for five years until the perfect opportunity presented itself to steal yuri away on his bike and take his to a beautiful place where he confessed to admiring him and telling he has the “eyes of a soldier” with the fucking sunset on the background because why not

so don’t try to tell me that when he’s planning on how to ask him out he doesn’t pull all the stops to make it be the most ridiculously romantic thing that won’t look like he actually Put In The Effort because yuri is permanently fed up with those because of victuuri, and that they’re probably progressively ruined by interferance from others and random incidents, until when he finally has things settled and is ready to take yuri to the star-lit frozen pond or whatever the fuck he decided on and he’s Very Casually leading him to the bike to get this show on the road

and instead yuri just goes “are you going to date me or not??” with a super pouty expression, and welp - fuck romantic settings and petal showers and all that comes with it

otabek just can’t say no to that

Dating Peter Quill would involve...

Originally posted by darlingpanslove

(Not my gif)

Dance offs. All the time

Sass wars

Karaoke battles whenever it’s the two of you in the ship

There’s just a lot of conflict in your relationship, but in a good way

You take the piss out of his “hero name” all the time

“Good morning, Star Prince.” “Seriously?”

Rocket starts throwing stuff at you two if you get anywhere near being affectionate in front of him

Peter burying his face in your neck whenever you cuddle

You mess with his hair all the time, because he puts a lot of effort into it and it’s adorable when he tries to be annoyed

If you’re feeling down, Peter puts a slow song on and slow dances with you, your head resting on his shoulder as he moves the two of you around

You work together whenever you’re in a fight, watching each other’s backs and swapping weapons with each other mid-fight just because you can

Playing pranks on each other all the time because you’re both five-year-olds trapped in adult bodies

You steal his jacket all the time because it’s cool and really comfy

He tries to be annoyed but he thinks it’s really cute and hot as hell

A/N: Please give me feedback or request something in my ask!


Here are some fake screenshots for a lazytown visual novel idea I had that I like to call “The Laziest Show in Town!”

It would star you, the player, coming to LazyTown! You are Stephanie’s pen pal, and you’ve always wanted to dance live on a stage! So Stephanie invited you over to help make your dream come true!

Each of the main characters would help you get ready in different ways, from song selection to set pieces! It would end with you choosing who in town you want to perform your big dance with!

I do want to make clear that these are fake screenshots for a fun idea I had. I’m a busy kid so unless people are really really interested in this and someone really, really wanted to make sprites for all 9 main characters + bg’s + cg’s for me, this isn’t gonna be a real thing. I just thought the idea was worth sharing!

Resist your oppressive regime. 

Smuggle birth control and hormones to those who need it. 

Ride your car all night to take someone to an abortion. 

Share your last books with the kids that have no library anymore. 

Donate to free journalism. Share their stories if you can’t donate.

Block and stop engaging with fake news sites.

Get involved in local politics to bring change to your community.

Get involved in help organisations. Let their existing structure guide you towards causes that need your time and effort.

Protect your fellow people when you see they are discriminated against in public spaces. Become a shield for trans women in bathrooms. Take the hand of a muslim women getting called names and get her out of there.

Contact your representatives. Let them know what you think.

AND VERY IMPORTANT - take care of yourself. Living through oppression when it fights you is resistance. Do what you can for others with the spoons you can spare - but also always always take care of yourself. You are important.


Imagine Kylo Ren getting really turned on while training you because you are so naturally skilled with the force, and he finds it fucking hot.

A/N: Here it is, my dudes, the actual written imagine! I hope you guys like it! <3

Rating: M

Word count: 1717

Warnings: Violence and smuttiness 

The crackling sound of light sabers clashing relentlessly filled the training room, punctuated by grunts and growls of effort. The room was hot, but the breeze afforded by the brisk movements each side of the duel had to administer in order to keep up with the other kept at least some air flowing.

Your master, Kylo Ren, was being relentless in his efforts to subdue you in this mock battle, his muscles flexing tightly as he brandished the training saber. He twirled, he jabbed, he swiped, all in an effort to get the upper hand against you but you were so focused, so tuned into his movements that you blocked every one of his shots. His ferocity only got more intense as the training session drilled on, and eventually, the two of you were nothing but a flurry of red light, heat, and elaborate maneuvers.  

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I really hope we get to know Jackie more. I’d like to see more depth to her, and I hope she plays a prominent role in the following episodes/season, now that she’s not so out of reach in Marco’s eyes (tbh she was so precious in the Bon Bon episode FFFFF 10/10).  I really hope that Marco develops self-confidence, or gets a much better takeaway from his relationship with her, other than the expected “oh I’m into Star now, not you” realization.

I also want Star to do her best to keep her jealousy in check and try to be happy for Jarco. With other variables thrown in, like the loss of the book and Glossaryck’s disappearance, it’s not going to be an easy emotion to control. She’s going to be struggling a lot, and we’re going to see her suffering firsthand (oh boy). Nevertheless, I’d like to see her make an effort to be supportive instead of despairing on a regular basis. I think the show’s touched upon her personal growth enough to portray her as someone who tries to approach her inner conflict with more maturity. 

Regardless, I’m super hyped to see where this show takes us. I love SVTFOE so much, and I’m so glad I’ve kept up with it for this long.

The End of the Galaxy - SaveWOY Presents

“How fandom has rallied to save what makes them fans: A heartfelt look at the driving forces, campaigns, and successes (and sometimes failures) of shows that were brought back from the edge of cancellation and beyond (including Star Trek, Arrested Development, and more); discussion of and about several of the most recent and resilient Save Our Show efforts rumbling through the Internet today that need your help, new techniques being used in campaigning, and how you can get involved even if you’re not part of the fandom, or if you think you’ve shown up too late to save the galaxy you’ve just begun to love.”

Programming submissions have been open for a little bit on the website for Phoenix Comicon and truth be told, this was something I had been kicking around last year. Unfortunately time ran too short for me to get things together on my end, and another opportunity fell way too flat to salvage. But this time there’s hope.

I’ve managed to fill almost hour’s worth of talking, slides, clips, and other things into this presentation (with room for Q&A and of course time for everyone to visit the SaveDisneyShows website - that @orbaljuice and @thefandump spent a TON of love and time on - to sign The Petition and see what other shows there are looking for help) and I’m really hoping that not only will it be a great chance for SaveWOY to get out there but it can instill the hope and realization in other people that they can have a say in what entertainment is produced and how. Even if it’s just rallying for better diversity and representation or bringing the whole damn show back to life (or hell, even killing a show for being terrible before it’s given a chance to air in a few cases), people can and should aspire to bring change in networks’ decisions for the better and to let creators of the content they love know that they are supported, and their work is so beloved that it’s worth the fight.

The submission I have above is only what they asked for (and I had done this the night of the Annies not because i was putting it off but because i just didn’t know how to condense the idea best, so I hope the passion is visible there in that little blurb) but once I do hear back they’re bound to get an earful of what I have in store for this panel.

Cross your fingers it’s accepted.


Captain James T. Kirk from Star Trek is a non-binary lesbian!

Alternatively: a flag for non-binary lesbians with uncomfortable crushes on William Shatner. You know who you are.

I couldn’t decide which to post so you get both, maximum effort.


I cannot even convey how pleased I am to finally be finished the Star Wars portrait set. If you’re following my Instagram (@ambayeah) you’ll understand The Herculean effort and sleep deprivation that I’ve put into getting these finished before the release of episode VIII.

Made using prismacolour pencils and archers smooth watercolour paper. Each of drawings taking approx 10-12 hours.

2,789 Miles (A Janthony Fic)

I had an unbelievably and surprisingly busy day today. I was gonna post this at noon and I should have scheduled it but I wanted to be online when it went up. I haven’t posted in so long and sorry for the drought, I get busy and try to have a life but I’m putting in effort to write more. Anyways, here it is guys the long distance fic. 


The familiar ringing of Facetime rang through Jasmine’s trailer. She sat, patiently, with her feet up on the ottoman and she swiveled her body to get comfortable.

The show should be letting out now on the East Coast and she was trying to reach Anthony. She only had an hour of a late dinner break before they had to continue with filming.

“Jasmine!” Her trailer door burst open and some of her co-stars walked in. “Are you coming to dinner with us tonight?” Jennifer, her closest friend on set, asked her.

“You guys go ahead, I just ordered food here. Anthony and I have a Facetime date tonight.” She watches her three co-stars all smile. They’ve only been filming for a month but she’s already very close to all of them.

“Okay, tell him we all said hi!” And with that the three of them left her trailer, closing the door.

Jasmine turned her attention back to the screen. There was still no answer and Jas was about to give up and just text him when the call started connecting. She sat up, excited to see his face, excited to talk to him.

The blurry image of Anthony came up and soon focused. “Hey!” She waved, her nerves settling as soon as she saw Anthony’s smile.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Wait...why don't you go to the gala anymore??

“Oh, uh… something, eh… embarrassing happened. I’d rather not go into details, but it involved Zero accidentally eating something he wouldn’t have, if he’d known what was in it, and a… a very big mess.”

“The King and Queen weren’t angry with us, but Zero was so ashamed of it, it, eh, took a lot of effort just to get him to go out in public again. Even mentioning the Gala around him can make him start… well… beating himself up over it.”

“Needless to say, we’ve not been back since. And, eh, it’s also why Z is a strict vegetarian,”


momento | for anakin and ahsoka; their friendship, ahsoka’s departure, and anakin’s dwindling trust in the jedi order

volume one | volume two | volume three

track listings and descriptions under the cut.

Keep reading


I’m a scoundrel, who wishes for your power for my own selfish reasons.


after a minor misunderstanding with my wonderful beta @culturevulture73 which turned into an amazing moment of insight, I’ve decided to stop fighting scenes 2.4 and 2.5 and just drop them altogether. 

There’s nothing that I wanted to include that can’t be said just as easily elsewhere in the story, and the amount of time and effort I’ve put into trying to force 2.4 to work is ridiculous. So they’re gone now. Bye. Not gonna try anymore.

That being said, that means everything I need for chapter 2 has been written. Now I just need to get through a round or two of editing.

I also have the entire weekend off (for the first time in months. minus holidays).

What I’m getting at is…

Expect chapter 2 up sometime before Sunday.

Vivienne: Wynne, my dear, you are an incredible mage. Your form and control are enviable, and you’ve figured out how to use the rules of your Circle to your advantage.

Wynne: Thank you. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. And I’ve had a lot of time to work on my craft.

Vivienne: I do wonder where you might have ended up if you had put more effort into the Game, however.

Wynne: I’m Fereldan. Born and raised. The only game we play here is Wicked Grace.

Vivienne: Be careful with your words, my dear. Wicked Grace has many meanings, in certain circles that has an entirely different connotation in regards to the Game.

Wynne: Whoever said I meant the card game?

Vivienne: Oh very good! A woman after my own heart.


Tag 20 amazing followers you would like to get to know better.
I was tagged by the lovely @sidcravesbooks thanks, love!

Blogs: This is my main blog! Ta da! She was created mid-to-late last year after I had a side blog for another main blog. I became sick of both and decided to start fresh although I check them out every now and again :)

Name or nicknames: My name is Jacinta, however, everyone I know calls me Cinna. The ‘t’ becomes too much effort to pronounce!

Preferred gender: Female

Star sign: Scorpio!! (I’m basically Satan’s Spawn)

Height: 5″6 ½ or ~167cm

Sexual orientation: Heterosexual

Hogwarts house: RAVENCLAW

Favourite colour: purples and silver 

Favourite animal: Don’t make me choose. Probs along the lines of a wolf or a turtle… dunno

Average Hours of sleep: About 4.5

Cat or Dog person: Dog 100% however I want a black cat just cause

Favourite fictional characters: Again, please don’t make me choose! I like all the characters from Legend, Kestrel, Arin, Blue, All from Red Queen, Arya, Sansa, Bran, Rickon, Adele (Wolf by Wolf) and America Singer to name a few

Number of blankets sleep with: Twoish

Favourite singer/band: Right now I’m loving Ed Sheeran, Adele and Twenty One Pilots

Dream trip: All of Europe and America! (I’m coming for you)

Dream job: Writer 

When was this blog created: September(ish) 2016 

Current number of followers: 32 :( I would like to have a larger family!

When did your blog reach its peak: Don’t think it has just yet. It’s lovely being tagged in these things, though!

What made you create this blog: I have an incredible infatuation with books and movies. I don’t really have anyone at home that relates to the most upsetting moment when a… favoured… character dies, a part of you silently dies too. So I came here to talk and blog and find recommendations to add to my TBR!

I hope to see you guys do one of these!: @werewolfpurfect @kasskrop @fantastic-queenie @agallivantgirl @obeiwan @a-girl-has-a-name @kirstietheworstie @winterblackburned @cuppatea-nbooks @aelinqueenofshadows @lets-not-remember-this-blog @marlsmckinnon @abookishravenclaw @apagewithaview @bookavid @bookishpages @books-of-insanity @booksyrup @charlsbookshelf @trinareadsbooks

I know i’ve tagged a few of you before… forgive me? xx

Sean Penn’s interview to Charles Bukowski

Now 66 years old, Bukowski has written 32 books of poetry, 5 collections of short stories and 4 novels. His best-known works are Ham on Rye, Women, Hot Water Music, South of No North, Post Office, Tales Of Ordinary Madness, War All The Time and Love is a Dog From Hell. His latest collection of poems is entitled You Get So Alone At Times That It Just Makes Sense.

This fall a film made from his first screenplay, Barfly, will open around the country. Starring Mickey Rourke and Faye Dunaway, directed by Barbet Schroeder and presented by Francis Ford Coppola, the film is an autobiographical account of Bukowski’s early years as a writer. Barfly’s two main characters, Henry and Wanda, are “immersed in an effort to escape the embalmed method of living which grips most of American society,” according to Bukowski. “It is that fearful desire to continue to exist at any cost, their lives or anybody else’s. Henry and Wanda refuse to accept the living death of acquiescence. This film is a focus on their brave madness.”

We asked actor and poet Sean Penn to visit Bukowski and focus on the brave madness of the great man himself.

Charles Bukowski was born in Andernach, Germany, in 1920. At the age of three he was brought to the United States and raised in Los Angeles. He currently resides in San Pedro, California, with his wife, Linda. A notorious boozer, brawler and womanizer, both Genet and Sartre called him “the best poet in America,” but his friends call him Hank.


Don’t do too much bar stuff anymore. Got that out of my system. Now when I walk into a bar, I almost gag. I’ve seen so many of them, it’s just too fuckin’ much – that stuff’s for when you’re younger, you know, and you like to duke it with a guy, you know you play that macho shit – try to pick up broads – at my age, I don’t need all that. Nowadays, I just go into bars to piss. Too many years in the bar. It just got so bad, that I’d walk into a bar, I’d walk through the door and I’d start to puke.


Alcohol is probably one of the greatest things to arrive upon the earth – alongside of me. Yes…these are two of the greatest arrivals upon the surface of the earth. So…we get along. It is ultimately destructive to most people. I’m just one apart from that. I do all of my creative work while I’m intoxicated. Even with women, you know, I’ve always been reticent in the love-making act, so alcohol has allowed me, sexually, to be more free. It’s a release, because basically I am a shy, withdrawn person, and alcohol allows me to be this hero, striding through space and time, doing all these daring things…So I like it…yeah.


I like to smoke. Smoke and alcohol counterbalance each other. I used to wake up from drinking, you know, and you smoke so much, both your hands are yellow, see, like you’ve got gloves on…almost brown…and you say, “Oh, shit…what do my lungs look like? Oh Jesus!”


The best feeling is when you whip a guy you’re not supposed to whip. I got into it with a guy one time, he was giving me a lot of lip. I said, “Okay. Let’s go.” He was no problem at all – I whipped him easy. He was laying there on the ground. He’s got a bloody nose, the whole works. He says, “Jesus, you move slow, man. I thought you’d be easy – the goddamn fight started – I couldn’t see your hands anymore, you were so fucking fast. What happened?” I said, “I don’t know, man. That’s just the way it goes.” You save it. You save it for the moment.

My cat, Beeker, is a fighter. He gets mauled up a bit sometimes, but he’s always the winner. I taught him it all, you know…lead with the left, set up the right.


Having a bunch of cats around is good. If you’re feeling bad, you just look at the cats, you’ll feel better, because they know that everything is, just as it is. There’s nothing to get excited about. They just know. They’re saviors. The more cats you have, the longer you live. If you have a hundred cats, you’ll live ten times longer than if you have ten. Someday this will be discovered, and people will have a thousand cats and live forever. It’s truly ridiculous.


I call ‘em complaining machines. Things are never right with a guy to them. And man, when you throw that hysteria in there…forget it. I gotta get out, get in the car, and go. Anywhere. Get a cup of coffee somewhere. Anywhere. Anything but another woman. I guess they’re just built different, right? (He’s on a roll now.) The hysteria starts…they’re gone. You go to leave, they don’t understand. (In a high woman’s screech:) “WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” “I’m getting the hell out of here, baby!” They think I’m a woman hater, but I’m not. A lot of it is word of mouth. They just hear “Bukowski’s a male-chauvinist pig,” but they don’t check the source. Sure I make women look bad sometimes, but I make men look bad too. I make myself look bad. If I really think it’s bad, I say it’s bad – man, woman, child, dog. The women are so touchy, they think they’re being singled out. That’s their problem.


Fuckin’ the first one was the strangest – I didn’t know – she taught me how to eat pussy and all these fucking things. I didn’t know anything. She said, “You know, Hank, you’re a great writer, but you don’t know a damn thing about women!” “What do you mean? I’ve fucked a lot of women.” “No, you don’t know. Let me teach you some things.” I said, “Okay.” She said, “You’re a good student, man. You catch on right away.” That’s all – (He got a little embarrassed. Not by the specifics, but rather by the sentimentality of the reminiscence.) But all that eatin’ pussy shit can get kinda subservient. I like to please them, but…It’s all overrated, man. Sex is only a great thing if you’re not getting any.


I just used to pop in and out of those sheets. I don’t know, it was kind of a trance, a fuck trance. I’d just kinda fuck, and fuck (laughs)… I did! (laughs)

And the women, you know, you’d say a few words, and you just grab 'em by the wrist, “Come on, baby.” Lead 'em in the bedroom and fuck 'em. And they’d go with it, man. Once you get in that rhythm, man, you’d just go. There are a lot of lonely women out there, man. They look good, they just don’t connect. They’re sitting there all alone, going to work, coming home…it’s a big thing for 'em to have some guy pop 'em. And if he sits around, drinks and talks, you know, it’s entertainment. It was all right…and I was lucky. Modern women…they don’t sew your pockets…forget that.


I wrote a short story from the viewpoint of a rapist who raped a little girl. So people accused me. I was interviewed. They’d say, “You like to rape little girls?” I said, “Of course not. I’m photographing life.” I’ve gotten in trouble with a lot of my shit. On the other hand, trouble sells some books. But, bottom line, when I write, it’s for me. (He draws a deep drag off his cigarette.) It’s like this. The “drag” is for me, the ash is for the tray… that’s publication.

I never write in the daytime. It’s like running through the shopping mall with your clothes off. Everybody can see you. At night…that’s when you pull the tricks…magic.


I always remember the schoolyards in grammar school, when the word “poet” or “poetry” came up, all the little guys would laugh and mock it. I can see why, because it’s a fake product. It’s been fake and snobbish and inbred for centuries. It’s over-delicate. It’s over-precious. It’s a bunch of trash. Poetry for the centuries is almost total trash. It’s a con, a fake.

There have been a very few good poets, don’t mistake me. There’s a Chinese poet called Li Po. He could put more feeling, realism, and passion in four or five simple lines than most poets can in the twelve or fourteen pages of their shit. And he drank wine too. He used to set his poems on fire, sail down the river, and drink wine. The emperors loved him, because they could understand what he was saying…but, of course, he only burned his bad poems. (laughs)

What I’ve tried to do, if you’ll pardon me, is bring in the factory-workers aspect of life…the screaming wife when he comes home from work. The basic realities of the everyman existence…something seldom mentioned in the poetry of the centuries. Just put me down as saying that the poetry of the centuries is shit. It’s shameful.


The first time I read Celine, I went to bed with a big box of Ritz crackers. I started reading him and eating these Ritz crackers, and laughing, and eating the Ritz crackers. I read the whole novel straight through. And the box of Ritz was empty, man. And I got up and drank water, man. You should’ve seen me. I couldn’t move. That’s what a good writer will do to you. He’ll damn near kill you…a bad writer will too.


He’s unreadable and overrated. But people don’t want to hear that. You see, you cannot attack shrines. Shakespeare is embedded through the centuries. You can say “So-and-so is a lousy actor!” But you can’t say Shakespeare is shit. The longer something is around, snobs begin to attach themselves to it, like suckerfish. When snobs feel something is safe…they attach. The moment you tell them the truth, they go wild. They can’t handle it. It’s attacking their own thought process. They disgust me.


I read in The National Enquirer, “Is your husband homosexual?” Linda had said to me, “You have a voice like a fag!” I said, “Oh, yeah. I always wondered.” (laughs) This article says, “Does he pull his eyebrows out?” I thought, shit! I do that all the time. Now I know what I am. I pull my eyebrows out…I’m a fag! Okay. It’s nice for The National Enquirer to tell me what I am.


There’s very little. About the last best humorist was a guy called James Thurber. But his humor was so great, they had to overlook it. Now, this guy was what you call a psychologist/psychiatrist of the ages. He had the man/woman thing – you know, people seeing things. He was a cure-all. His humor was so real, you almost have to scream out your laughter in a frantic release. Outside of Thurber, I can’t think of anybody…I’ve got a little touch of it…but not like he did. What I’ve got I don’t really call humor. I’d call it…“a comic edge.” I’m almost hooked on the comic edge. No matter what happens…it’s ludicrous. Almost everything is ludicrous. You know, we shit every day. That’s ludicrous. Don’t you think? We have to keep pissing, putting food in our mouths, wax comes in our ears, hair? We have to scratch ourselves. Really ugly and dumb, you know? Tits are useless, unless…

You know, we’re monstrosities. If we could really see this, we could love ourselves…realize how ridiculous we are, with our intestines wound around, shit slowly running through as we look each other in the eyes and say “I love you,” our stuff is carbonizing, turning into shit, and we never fart near each other. It all has a comic edge…

And then we die. But, death has not earned us. It hasn’t shown any credentials – we’ve shown all the credentials. With birth, have we earned life? Not really, but we’re sure caught with the fucker…I resent it. I resent death. I resent life. I resent being caught between the two. You know how many times I’ve tried suicide? (Linda asks, “Tried?”) Give me time, I’m only 66 years old. Still working at it.

When you have a suicide complex, nothing bothers you…except losing at the track. Somehow that bothers you. Why is that?…Because you’re using your mind [at the track] not your heart.

I never rode a horse.

I’m not so interested in the horse, as in the process of being right and wrong…selectively.


I tried to make my living at the track for a while. It’s painful. It’s exhilarating. Everything is on the line – the rent – everything. But, you tend to be too cautious…it’s not the same.

One time I was sitting way down at the curve. There were twelve horses in the race and they all got bunched together. It looked like a big charge. All I saw were these big horses’ asses going up and down. They looked wild. I looked at those horse asses and I thought, “This is madness, this is total madness!” But then you have other days where you win four or five hundred dollars, you’ve won eight or nine races in a row, you feel like God, you know everything. It all fits together.

(Then to me:)

CB: All your days aren’t good, are they?
SP: No.
CB: Some of them good?
SP: Yeah.
CB: Many of them?
SP: Yeah.
(After a pause, the laughter of surprise)
CB: I thought you were going to say “Just a few…” How disappointing!


I don’t look too much at people. It’s disturbing. They say if you look too much at someone, you start to look like them. Poor Linda.

People, mostly, I can do without. They don’t fill me, they empty me. I respect no man. I have a problem that way…I’m lying, but believe me, it’s true.

The valet at the track is okay. Sometimes, I’m leaving the track and he’ll say, “Well, how you doing, man?” I’ll say, “Shit, I’m ready to go for the jugular…throw up the white flag, man. I’ve had it.” He’ll say, “Oh no! Come on, man! I’ll tell you what. Let’s go out tonight, get drunk. We’ll kick some ass, and suck pussy.” I’ll say, “Frank, let me consider that.” He’ll say, “You know, the worse it gets, the wiser I get.” I’ll say, “You must be a pretty wise man, Frank.” He’ll say, “You know it’s a good thing you and I didn’t meet when we were younger.” I’ll say, “Yeah, I know what you’re going to say, Frank. We’d both be in San Quentin.” “Right!” he says.


The other day I’m sitting there and I feel them staring at me. I know what’s coming, so I get up to move, you know? And he says, “Excuse me?” And I say, “Yes, what is it!” He says, “Are you Bukowski?” I say, “No!” He says, “I guess people ask you that all the time, don’t they?” And I say, “Yes!” and I walked away. You know, we’ve discussed this before. There’s nothing like privacy. You know, I like people. It’s nice that they might like my books and all that…but I’m not the book, see? I’m the guy who wrote it, but I don’t want them to come up and throw roses on me or anything. I want them to let me breathe. They wanna hang out with me. They figure I’ll bring some whores, wild music, and I’m gonna slug somebody…you know? They read the stories! Shit, these things happened 20 to 30 years ago, baby!


It’s a destructor. It’s the whore, the bitch, the destructor of all time. I’ve got it the sweetest because I’m famous in Europe and unknown here. I’m one of the most fortunate men around. I’m a lucky dog. Fame is really terrible. It is a measure on a scale of the common denominator, minds working on a low level. It’s worthless. A select audience is much better.


I’ve never been lonely. I’ve been in a room – I’ve felt suicidal. I’ve been depressed. I’ve felt awful – awful beyond all – but I never felt that one other person could enter that room and cure what was bothering me…or that any number of people could enter that room. In other words, loneliness is something I’ve never been bothered with because I’ve always had this terrible itch for solitude. It’s being at a party, or at a stadium full of people cheering for something, that I might feel loneliness. I’ll quote Ibsen, “The strongest men are the most alone.” I’ve never thought, “Well, some beautiful blonde will come in here and give me a fuck-job, rub my balls, and I’ll feel good.” No, that won’t help. You know the typical crowd, “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. Stupid people mingling with stupid people. Let them stupidify themselves. I’ve never been bothered with the need to rush out into the night. I hid in bars, because I didn’t want to hide in factories. That’s all. Sorry for all the millions, but I’ve never been lonely. I like myself. I’m the best form of entertainment I have. Let’s drink more wine!


This is very important – to take leisure time. Pace is the essence. Without stopping entirely and doing nothing at all for great periods, you’re gonna lose everything. Whether you’re an actor, anything, a housewife…there has to be great pauses between highs, where you do nothing at all. You just lay on a bed and stare at the ceiling. This is very, very important…just to do nothing at all, very, very important. And how many people do this in modern society? Very few. That’s why they’re all totally mad, frustrated, angry and hateful. ln the old days, before I was married, or knew a lot of women, I would just pull down all the shades and go to bed for three or four days. I’d get up to shit. I’d eat a can of beans, go back to bed, just stay there for three or four days. Then I’d put on my clothes and I’d walk outside, and the sunlight was brilliant, and the sounds were great. I felt powerful, like a recharged battery. But you know the first bring-down? The first human face I saw on the sidewalk, I lost half my charge right there. This monstrous, blank, dumb, unfeeling face, charged up with capitalism – the “grind.” And you went “Oooh! That took half away.” But it was still worth it, I had half left. So, yeah, leisure. And I don’t mean having profound thoughts. I mean having no thoughts at all. Without thoughts of progress, without any self-thoughts of trying to further yourself. Just…like a slug. It’s beautiful.


There is no such thing as beauty, especially in the human face…what we call the physiognomy. It’s all a mathematical and imagined alignment of features. Like, if the nose doesn’t stick out too much, the sides are in fashion, if the earlobes aren’t too large, if the hair is long…It’s kind of a mirage of generalization. People think of certain faces as beautiful, but, truly, in the final measure, they are not. It’s a mathematical equation of zero. “True beauty” comes, of course, of character. Not through how the eyebrows are shaped. So many women that I’m told are beautiful…hell, it’s like looking into a soup bowl.


There’s no such thing as ugliness. There is a thing called deformity, but outward “ugliness” does not exist…I have spoken.


It was wintertime. I was starving to death trying to be a writer in New York. I hadn’t eaten for three or four days. So, I finally said, “I’m gonna have a big bag of popcorn.” And God, I hadn’t tasted food for so long, it was so good. Each kernel, you know, each one was like a steak! I chewed and it would just drop into my poor stomach. My stomach would say, “THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” I was in heaven, just walking along, and two guys happened by, and one said to the other, “Jesus Christ!” The other one said, “What was it?” “Did you see that guy eating popcorn? God, it was awful!” And so I couldn’t enjoy the rest of the popcorn. I thought; what do you mean, “it was awful?” I’m in heaven here. I guess I was kinda dirty. They can always tell a fucked-up guy.


I kind of like being attacked. “Bukowski’s disgusting!” That makes me smile, you know, I like it. “Oh, he’s a horrible writer!” I smile some more. I kind of feed on that. It’s when a guy tells me, “Hey, you know, they’re teaching you at such and such a university,” my mouth drops. I don’t know…to be too much accepted is terrifying. You feel you’ve done something wrong.

I enjoy the bad things that are said about me. It enhances [book] sales and makes me feel evil. I don’t like to feel good 'cause I am good. But evil? Yes. It gives me another dimension. (Bringing up the pinky finger of his left hand…) Did you ever see this finger? (The finger seems paralyzed in a downward “L” configuration.) I broke it, drunk one night. Don’t know how, but…I guess it just didn’t set right. But, it works just fine for the “a” key (on his typewriter) and…what the hell…it adds to my character. See, now I’ve got character and dimension. (He laughs.)


Most so-called brave people lack imagination. As though they can’t conceive of what would happen if something went wrong. The truly brave overcome their imagination and do what they have to do.


I don’t know a thing about it. (He laughs)


I think violence is often misinterpreted. Certain violence is needed. There is, in all of us, an energy that demands an outlet. I think that if the energy is constrained, we go mad. The ultimate peacefulness we all desire is not a desirable area. Somehow in our construction, it is not meant to be. This is why I like to see boxing matches, and why, in my younger days, I’d like to duke it in back alleys. “Expulsion of energy with honor,” is sometimes called violence. There is “interesting madness” and “disgusting madness.” There are good and bad forms of violence. So, in fact…it’s a loose term. Let it not be too much at the expense of others, and it’s okay.


When I was a kid, they used to drill me. I had these big boils. You toughen up to physical pain. When I was in General Hospital they were drilling away, and a guy walked in, and he said, “I never saw anyone go under the needle that cool.” That’s not bravery – if you get enough physical pain, you relent – it’s a process, an adjustment.

Mental pain can’t be adjusted to. Keep me away from it.


What do psychiatric patients get? They get a bill.

I think the problem between the psychiatrist and the patient is that the psychiatrist goes by the book, while the patient arrives because of what life has done to him or her. And even though the book may have certain insights, the pages are always the same in the book, and, each patient is a little bit different. There are many more individual problems than pages. Get it? There are too many mad people to do it by saying, “dollars per hour, when this bell rings, you’re finished.” That alone will drive any near-mad person to madness. They’ve just started to open up and feel good, when the shrink says, “Nurse, make the next appointment,” and they’ve lost track of the price, which is also abnormal. It’s all too stinking worldly. The guy is out to take your ass. He’s not out to cure you. He wants his money. When the bell rings, bring in the next “nut.” Now the sensitive “nut” will realize when that bell rings, he’s being fucked. There’s no time limit to curing madness, and there’s no bills for it either. Most psychiatrists I’ve seen look a little close to the edge themselves. But they’re too comfortable…I think they’re all too comfortable. I think a patient wants to see a little madness, not too much. Ahhhh! (bored) PSYCHIATRISTS ARE TOTALLY USELESS! Next question?


Faith is all right for those who have it. Just don’t load it on me. I have more faith in my plumber than I do in the eternal being. Plumbers do a good job. They keep the shit flowing.


I’ve always been accused of being a cynic. I think cynicism is sour grapes. I think cynicism is a weakness. It’s saying “everything is wrong! EVERYTHING IS WRONG!” You know? “This is not right! That is not right!” Cynicism is the weakness that keeps one from being able to adjust to what is occurring at the moment. Yes, cynicism is definiteiy a weakness, just as optimism is. “The sun is shining, the birds are singing – so smile.” That’s bullshit too. The truth lies somewhere in between. What is, just is. So you’re not ready to handle it…too bad.


There may not be a hell, but those who judge may create one. I think people are over-taught. They are over-taught everything. You have to find out by what happens to you, how you will react. I’ll have to use a strange term here…“good.” I don’t know where it comes from, but I feel that there’s an ultimate strain of goodness born in each of us. I don’t believe in God, but I believe in this “goodness” like a tube running through our bodies. It can be nurtured. It’s always magic, when on a freeway packed with traffic, a stranger makes room for you to change lanes…it gives you hope.


It’s almost like being caught in the corner. It’s embarrassing. So, I don’t always tell the total truth. I like to play around and jest a bit, so I do give out some misinformation just for the sake of entertainment and bullshit. So if you want to know about me, never read an interview. Ignore this one.