[atari 2600]

Peanuts

by

Charles Bukowski

 

Lucy

It began as a mistake.
The first time that Charles Brown met Lucy Van Pelt, she was holding a football. He didn’t care for the game, baseball was his thing. Still, she held out that old football.
“Just kick the fucking thing,” she said.
“Listen, babe. You just hold that thing steady and I’ll kick the shit out of it.”
She threw her head back and laughed. She laughed long and hard and propped up the football. Charlie took a running start and he reared back his leg and kicked as hard as he could. Lucy was laughing too hard to hold the ball steady and it slipped out of her hand. Charlie missed the ball and flew straight up in the air and landed flat on his back.
“AUUUGGGGHHH,” he said.
“You should have seen your face, Charlie Brown,” she said. Then she laughed twice as hard.
“Listen, you crazy bitch. I think I broke my ass. Jesus Christ!”
She helped him up. “Look, I’m sorry about that. You try it again and I’ll hold it real steady this time.”
“O.K., Lucy. I’ll do it on more time, but that’s it. You hold it this time, got it?”
“I promise,” she said.
He dusted himself off. God o mighty, his ass ached! He walked a little ways away and Lucy set up the old football again. He took a deep breath and a running start. He could see she was holding it tight. He was really going to kick the shit out of that old football! He threw his leg forward with all his might and Lucy yanked the football away just as he kicked at it. He landed on his ass again.
“AUUUGGGGHHH,” he said again.
Lucy laughed and laughed and left with the football. Charlie laid there and groaned. Good grief, he thought. What a cunt.

 

[atari 2600]

http://www.progressiveboink.com/archive/

Snoopy

The Daisy Hill Puppy Farm was way up in the Hollywood Hills. When Charlie Brown's parents drove them all in their beat-up sedan it took about two hours to get there. Charlie jumped out of the car and ran right up to where all the pups were playing. He saw a white beagle playing the mouth-harp. The pup had a black spot on one side and black ears, a little pot belly and a big muzzle. Charlie pointed out the cur with one chubby finger and that was that. . .
“This goddamned dog.”
Charles Brown worked the crank of the cheap metal can opener and watched the can of dog food slowly rotate. He cut his finger on the lid, just like he always did, and cursed and sucked on it as he dumped the slop into the dog’s bowl.
He carried the bowl outside and thumped it down outside the doghouse. Snoopy was, as usual, sleeping up on the roof, not a care in the world. He smelled the food and sat up and yawned, hopped down and started eating.
“You’re a real piece of work,” said Charlie. “You stupid dog, you get invited out every night, stay out till all hours, come home when you please. It’s enough to drive me crazy. You don’t care a lick about me, cooped up in my shack drinking alone all night.”
The dog finished his supper and disappeared into the doghouse. A minute later, he walked out wearing a leather jacket and dark glasses and padded right past Branaski and out the gate.
“You ungrateful son of a bitch. I oughta let you starve.”

 

sopwith camel

my dog is at it
again
I hear my neighbors
slam their windows
up
“shut that fucking dog up,”
they yell
every night it’s the
same
“shut that fucking dog up.”
it’s not his fault that he wants to dance
on top of a
piano

it’s not his fault that he pretends his doghouse
is a sopwith
camel
it’s not his fault that he spends many nights
pounding mad
on the typer
“shut that fucking dog up,”
they holler
it’s not his fault
he’s just a dog

Schroeder

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, Brown! 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.”
“Beethoven probably had the clap,” said Schroeder.
They sat and drank their beers and talked about women.
“There’s Lucy and Violet. They’re some real pieces of work, Brown. They don’t get jealous of each other and sometimes one will come over while I’ve still got the other one in the sack! It’s not like Frieda. I think that Frieda would kill me if she ever found another woman over. It’s nothing but trouble, all the time. More trouble than it’s worth, I can tell you that much.”
And Charlie said, “Maybe you should just give it up.”
Schroeder laughed and clapped Charlie on the back.
“I could never give up women for the same reason I could never give up the piano, Charlie Brown: I’m just too damn good.”

 

answers that never arrive

I sit by the window and listen to the rain
come down
and I think about why we
do these things
we sit with our elbows on these
brick walls,
talking
bickering
lamenting the passing of our youth,
and what it means to be
young.
we write letters to Santa Claus
tell him about how
we’ve been good
we should get presents
waiting for answers that never arrive.
we spend our days and nights
drinking
screwing
screaming our heads off
and all it ever really does
is make my stomach
hurt

 

Peppermint Patty

“Hey, Chuck! Long time no see!”
Patty barged her way into the apartment. Charlie shut the door behind her and they sat down on a couple of chairs in the living room.
“Got anything to drink? I’m dying of thirst here, Chuck.”
“I’ve got whiskey.”
“Sure, Chuck. Whatever you’re drinking.”
Charlie poured a couple of tall drinks of whiskey. Patty knocked hers back in a single, prolonged swallow. “Jesus, but that hits the spot! You got any beer, Chuck? Nothing like a good cold beer. God almighty, I’m thirsty!”
Charlie had some beer in the icebox. Patty pulled one out and started sucking at it. They went ahead and drank, it was as good a night as any. She was a real piece of work, all right. Everyone said she made it with the ladies, but Charlie didn’t care. She had this one dyke piece down at the factory named Marcie. Marcie and Charlie didn’t get along okay because Patty was sweet on Charlie as well.
Pretty soon Patty was drunk, and she was letting Charlie know she wanted it. “Look here, Chuck, I know you want to give me that thing.”
“Listen, Patty. It’s getting pretty late. I’ve got too much work to do.”
“Work! Work! You’re real dull, Chuck! Let’s screw!”
“Sorry, babe, but tonight’s not the best. Listen, I’m sick. I think you’d better go.”
Charlie stood up and went to the door and opened it.
“You’re an asshole, Chuck,” she said. “You’re too wishy-washy. Maybe I’ll go get a drink with that funny-looking kid with the big nose. That would make you jealous, wouldn’t it?”
She grabbed her purse and stormed out.
Charlie closed the door and went back to cutting up newspapers. Jesus, he thought. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.

 

[atari 2600]

Linus

“There was this one guy, Linus. He had found religion and would never shut up about it. Every time you turned around, it was The Great Pumpkin this and The Great Pumpkin that. On and on, it was enough to drive you crazy. Brown often found himself dropping the nickel on a shrink just to rant about how nuts this guy was.
“Every day the same thing! If I have to hear about this Great Pumpkin one more time I’m going to wring his scrawny neck!”
But every day like clockwork, Linus would show up again and here it would come.
“You know that it’s almost Halloween, Charlie Brown. Soon the Great Pumpkin will come and we won’t have to worry about a thing. When he comes, we’ll all go out and sing pumpkin carols!”
Charlie couldn’t take it anymore. “Look, Linus. I don’t give a shit about any of that nonsense. I just want to play today’s baseball game and not have to listen to you yammer about this and that. The Great Pumpkin! God almighty, if I have to listen to any more of that I’ll kill myself!”
Linus shrugged and clutched at his ratty blue blanket. “It’s O.K., Charlie Brown. Even if you don’t believe in The Great Pumpkin, he still has pity for you.”
“You tell The Great Pumpkin that he can stick his pity up his ass! What has he ever done for me! Now get out of here, kid, I have a game to pitch!”

 

asleep in the cold

he waited in the pumpkin patch
that entire night
fell asleep in the cold with the chill
wind drying his tears
on his cheeks.
waited until he couldn’t stay
awake any longer and just
tuckered out
sally came with him
waited an hour or two before she
got too tired and headed home
to sleep
she told him not to stay up too late
that he’d catch his death
of cold
gave him a small light kiss
on the cheek
and he never noticed
there were a few times that he thought
was that him over there?
no, just the dog
just a trick of the light
pulled his blanket closer
and sighed
when he finally fell asleep
he dreamed
of the Great Pumpkin holding him close
telling him it would be
all right
and when he woke up there was no one
just the pumpkins
and his blanket
but somehow for him
that was enough

Charlie Brown

I awoke at 9 a.m. and was sick, just like every morning. My head pounded and I was sweating when I’d finished vomiting. I washed up and put on a clean shirt and checked the refrigerator. I pulled out a beer but what I really needed was whiskey. Enough to drown a Mississippi River of pain.
I sat at the table and looked at the mess from the day before. Broken kites, a battered baseball mitt, a rock. I thought about calling someone up, then decided I didn’t need the company.
I looked out the window and saw my dog just coming home. He clambered up his doghouse and flopped down on the roof, belly up, dreaming. A yellow bird flew down and perched nearby, appraising the fat beagle. I took another swallow of beer and decided to head down to the store for a bottle of wine and a cigar.
I pulled my cap down low and squinted against the morning sun. As I passed the ball field, some fellows called out to me.
“Hey, Charlie Brown! Hey, come pitch for us! We need a pitcher!”
I waved them away. “Go to hell, Shermie. Get lost, Franklin. I’m sick. I’m in no mood to spend the morning looking for my socks and shoes after every pitch.”
I got to the liquor store and bought the cheapest bottle of wine I could and decided against the cigar. I leaned against the low brick wall outside the store and drank the wine out of a paper bag. It tasted sweet but I knew it would turn my guts in a few hours. Pig Pen wandered over to try to bum a quarter. I told him to get lost before I kicked his ass.
When I was about halfway through the bottle, Schroeder came by and leaned with me. We sat there for a few minutes, not talking. I gave him a pull from the bottle. We passed it back and forth and watched the morning together.
“You’re a piece of work, Charlie Brown,” Schroeder said.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, it’s always the same with you. You try to fly your kite, you play baseball, you drink all night and you’re lousy at all of it.”
I thought about it and took another swallow. “I guess someone needs to be lousy at everything. Otherwise you’d get no perspective.”
Schroeder laughed and sucked at the bottle. “I guess you’re right. I guess we need you after all.”
“We won’t be eight years old forever, you know. Good grief, these are the best years we’ve got.”
We went on drinking, celebrating the day. In a little while I’d go out again, try to fly that kite. Try to strike out the other team. Just keep trying, that’s all I can do.

 

[nicfit]

Those kinda ruined the mood of the thread, but I like them.

[atari 2600]

Originally Posted by nicfit

Those kinda ruined the mood of the thread, but I like them.

http://www.sonicyouth.com/gossip/sho...1&postcount=39

Before those posts, you were the last person to post here and that was back on the twenty-first, some six days ago, so the thread was pretty much dead, or was, at the very least, dying.

[nicfit]

Oh, it's ok, I post here some strips when I feel like doing it, I'm not "forced" to do that everyday. And I don't consider it dead if there are no replies, I did it mostly for myself and a couple of people on here (who don't post that often).
But again, no problem at all, I was not "criticizing" your posts, ok?