Peanuts by Charles Bukowski


Auf Progressive Boink hat sich jemand vorgestellt, wie der Buke die Peanuts geschrieben hätte.

Schroeder played the piano and all of the girls loved him. They would sit there for hours and watch him play. Schroeder had a big old cock, too, and the girls loved that just as well. The times Schroeder wasn’t playing one instrument, he was playing the other. He would play the piano all day and screw all night and he got maybe an hour or two of sleep. He came into the bar one afternoon and took a seat next to Charlie.

“You’re looking sort of beat there, baby,” Charlie said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” said Schroeder. “It’s these girls. They’ll kill me one of these days. They just won’t quit, Branaski! Every time I think I might get some sleep, here comes another one, pounding at my door. It’s enough to drive me mad.”

“I bet Beethoven never had these problems.”

Peanuts, by Charles Bukowski (via Buzzfeed)