South of No North: Stories of the Buried Life

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One time we did watch a couple in bed and the guy was mauling his woman and we thought now we’re going to see it, but she said, No, I don’t want to do it tonight! You know the accounts – the ones that have their trigger on the pulse looking at every minuscule change at big Hollywood studios and spending their livelihoods making YouTube videos about trivial diversity-casting tactics, while showing their bare racist asses on main. Lighthill humming as he mixed the drinks, hmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmmm…He seemed relaxed and it helped her. After our walk along Main Street we’d go into the hotdog place and get our eight cent hotdog and our big nickel mug of rootbeer.

Bukowski was so free that you would end up hating 90% of the things in the world if you read his books.South of No North is a collection of short stories by Charles Bukowski, originally published in 1973 as South of No North: Stories of the Buried Life by John Martin's Black Sparrow Press. Siamo confusi e persi, non c’è bussola che ci indichi il Nord e forse un Nord non c’è se non per la strada e direzione che decidiamo di percorrere. Like its recent seasons, the specials have had a scattershot quality — usually plentiful in gags that are funny until tired or decent commentary on the rollercoaster years we’ve endured recently. Loneliness" is a short-story by Charles Bukowski collected in his 1973 collection South of No North, originally published by John Martin's Black Sparrow Press.

Many of the stories are told in the voice of Henry Chinaski, the autobiographical character that is at the center of Bukowski's novels. Everything pleases them: icecream cones, rock concerts, singing, swinging, love, hate, masturbation, hot dogs, country dances, Jesus Christ, roller skating, spiritualism, capitalism, communism, circumcision, comic strips, Bob Hope, skiing, fishing murder bowling debating, anything. Where we got our small amount of pocket money was a mystery except that we did have a sharp eye for anything that was not cemented to the ground. She thought of him coming home, finding the gas and phone bills in the mailbox, undressing, taking a bath, the T. On the positive side: fast-paced, funny (here and there), straightforward unembellished story-telling (like Hemingway) - but the subject matter is too limited, adolescent, or downright boring.On his pessimistic view of life: “I keep remembering the female who screamed at me: ‘You’re so god damned negative!