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“How are ya gonna make it?” Becker asked. “Seems like I’ve heard that question all my life.” “Well, I don’t know about you but I’m going to try everything! War, women, travel, marriage, children, the works. The first car I own I’m going to take it completely apart! Then I’m going to put it back together again! I want to know about things, what makes them work! I’d like to be a correspondent in Washington, D.C. I’d like to be where big things are happening.” “Washington’s crap, Becker.” “And women? Marriage? Children?” “Crap.” “Yeah? Well, what do you want?” “To hide.” “You poor fuck. You need another beer.” “All right.” The beer arrived.” — Charles Bukowski
How are ya gonna make it?” Becker asked.
“Seems like I’ve heard that question all my life.”
“Well, I don’t know about you but I’m going to try everything! War, women, travel, marriage, children, the works. The first car I own I’m going to take it completely apart! Then I’m going to put it back together again! I want to know about things, what makes them work! I’d like to be a correspondent in Washington, D.C. I’d like to be where big things are happening.”
“Washington’s crap, Becker.”
“And women? Marriage? Children?”
“Crap.”
“Yeah? Well, what do you want?”
“To hide.”
“You poor fuck. You need another beer.”
“All right.”
The beer arrived.