by Charles Bukowski ~ One day when Clarence was a boy it snowed in Los Angeles. He had lived all his life in Los Angeles and... "What's this white crap?" ...He had never seen snow before, although he had seen his mother's pussy. "I don't know what to think. Somebody tell me what to think." Everybody in Los Angeles went crazy. His father laughed for the first time in ten years. All the kids in Clarences neighborhood got together and made a snowman. "Boy, he looks good!" "Hey! He ain't got a pecker!" Then the sun came out. "Go back behind a cloud, mother-puffer!" Then the kids from the other neighborhood came and tried to steal the snowman. They drove the gang of them off, bloody and crying - but during the battle part of the snowman had gotten crushed and it continued to melt. "Shit, man." Then they put what was left of the snowman in the icebox. But as the days went on the snowman continued to melt even in the icebox. They took it outside and looked at it. "I can still see it." "It's still snow." And then it was gone and Clarence and his buddies sat in his father's celler smoking cigarettes. They didn't talk about the snow or the snowman. "I'm a man!" Then they decided to go and kick some more ass on that neighborhood gang and rape their mothers. Then they got sick and it didn't snow again for twenty years. ~ (it's better with the illustrations) |
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baby. class of that filthy thing called life, sister. uhrg gack |