From a Shabby Bar on the Fringes
…this guy walks in. He sits on the stool two over from me. He orders a drink and then starts muttering about who knows what. I ignore this guy until I hear him mutter a little louder and he says “Bukowski.”
…this guy walks in. He sits on the stool two over from me. He orders a drink and then starts muttering about who knows what. I ignore this guy until I hear him mutter a little louder and he says “Bukowski.”
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