Pulp

by Charles Bukowski

Anyhow, I had the glooms and I sat in a chair with the 5th at my side. I didn’t turn on the TV, I found that when you felt bad that son-of-a-bitch only made you feel worse. Just one vapid face after another, it was endless. An endless procession of idiots, some of them famous. The comedians weren’t funny and the drama was 4th grade. There wasn’t much to turn to for me, except the scotch.

Y