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Having read two of Bukowski's books now, I've decided he's for two types of people: psuedo-intelectual masochists that want to slum a little and more genuine people that live very histrionic if arrogant and introverted lives. I can’t get over how conceited Bukowski is, how conceited his books and intentions are, or the way he treats his audience. I guess he’s sort of a modern day Oscar Wilde or Elephant Man, but reading his books gives me the impression that most people that read him think the jokes on the other readers, that the jokes not on them, that they’re “with it.�� That’s a little too much macho bullshit headgames for me. I like his honesty and he’s usually a quick read, though often repetitive and some of his more ludicrous fantasy escapades are off putting. Usually I don’t like books by writers about writing, but he usually handles it well (when does he have time to write?). Knowing some Joes like him, I wish they took their minds of the bottle and did something productive like write it all down. I’ll read some more of him, but I usually like my machismo with a little more humility, like John Wayne (that’s a joke).