Dirty Realism Quotes

“To ask them to legalize pot is something like asking them to put butter on the handcuffs before they place them on you: something else is hurting you—that's why you need pot, or whiskey, or whips and rubber suits, or screaming music turned so fucking loud you can't think. Or madhouses or mechanical cunts or 162 baseball games in a season. Or Vietnam or Israel or the fear of spiders.”
― Charles Bukowski, Tales of Ordinary Madness

“Opinions are like assholes, everybody's got one and everyone thinks everyone else's stinks.”
― Simone Elkeles, How to Ruin a Summer Vacation

“I’m too big of a fan of sin and debauchery to be a Christian.”
― J.C. Wickhart, Inappropriate

“My shift was over. Thank God! One more closer to the grave.”
― Ian Truman

“No. This was a crude and adolescent way of talking to the fairer gender, it rarely works. When it does work, the woman that falls for it isn’t even suitable for a satisfying sexual encounter. A good way to weed out the poor decisions and unacceptable mistakes though, and a better way to catch a horrible case of the dick rot. Trial and error. A few hit points missing is better for skill gain anyway.”
― J.C. Wickhart, Inappropriate

“Most Tea Party members are old pride-filled morons who have no good reasoning to concern themselves with politics, just tired old self-righteous and self-proclaimed patriots wanting to start some type of Nazi-like revolution, mainly because they hate Obama and they have a dumb sense that their lives and generation is quickly coming to a halt and none of them like it. They claim they don’t want their rights stripped away from them, so they will do anything in their power to stop that, including stripping away the rights of others.”
― J.C. Wickhart, Inappropriate

“I don’t understand people’s constant
need to pretend that as a species we are good on a primary level, when in fact we’ve had prisons and punishments for thousands of years and people still do whatever the fuck they want, that should clue us in that we are all wired with evil and malevolent intent. Then I realize as long as you don’t get caught in your iniquities, it really doesn’t matter to anyone.”
― J.C. Wickhart

“I open the toilet door and step out, my internal fire re-stoked, ready to face my demons, fight if need be and win. I’m raging, focused like a jungle warrior after his second bowl of tiger-cock soup.”
― John Bowie, Untethered

“The bed lets out a slight gasp of air from the mattress like an old cat fart, but it looks like she’s too caught up in herself to notice.”
― John Bowie, Untethered

“Death. I’ve taunted it for years with confidence and courage. It has taken years for me to realize that it wasn’t courage at all, it was the complete opposite; weakness. Bad habits and vulgar sensibilities are my disease. The only cure is dignity and shame, how tragic that I seem lack both.”
― J.C. Wickhart, Inappropriate

“HISTORIA RADICALMENTE CONCENTRADA DE LA ERA POSTINDUSTRIAL

Cuando fueron presentados, él hizo un comentario ingenioso porque quería caer bien. Ella soltó una risotada estrepitosa porque quería caer bien. Luego los dos cogieron sus coches y se fueron solos a sus casas, mirando fijamente la carretera, con la misma mueca en la cara.
Al hombre que los había presentado no le caía demasiado bien ninguno de los dos, pero fingía que sí porque le preocupaba mucho tener buenas relaciones con todo el mundo. Después de todo, nunca se sabe, ¿verdad que no? ¿Verdad? ¿Verdad?”
― David Foster Wallace, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men

“This is the ending. This is the end to several different stories. There will be no bang to it. No cliffhanger. Everything has come to a close and I’m ready to fade out.”
― J.C. Wickhart, Hills

“Perhaps when I was a child. Then my brain fully developed and I started thinking about the logic. The Christian life is no life for this man. I have a potent predilection for the whiskey, weed and women. I like to defile all three of them, sometimes simultaneously. But yeah, it isn’t the fairytale within the bible that makes me such an infidel, I just couldn’t suffer waking up early on Sundays to praise a magical being that lacks significant proof.”
― J.C. Wickhart, Inappropriate

“Now I stand on the edge of a new world, a new life; pondering what type of fortunes and catastrophes await me. Bring it on, I’ve handled a generous amount of profound and weird shit in my lifetime that the universe could sling at me and I have always walked away more seasoned. Through blunder and mishap I’ve grown wise and callused, and I’ve risen from the aftermath as a warrior, a grandmaster, a champion of bad virtues and noble intentions.”
― J.C. Wickhart, Inappropriate

“In this cell you are small. They’ve taken your belt and your shoelaces. You break a little. You put your hands over your face so they don’t see. They don’t listen when you shout for water, Please. Your tongue is so dry it feels too big for your mouth. You don’t sleep. Someone behind the door shouts BASTARDS BASTARDS. You think you can see an old man crouched and watching you in that dark corner over there. You try and make spit to drink but you can’t. In the morning they give you half a plastic cup of warm water. Across your tongue they drag a cotton bud which they drop into a plastic bag with your name on it. They take your fingerprints, your photograph, and then when you get home, she tells you she’s pregnant.”
― Dean Lilleyman, Billy and the Devil

“The room buzzes around us but we’re fixed on each other, engaged in a battle of who can deprecate me more. She obviously doesn’t believe such a man can exist and keeps at it, prodding and goading me like a fisherman harpooning an already beached whale.”
― John Bowie, Untethered

“There are two types of men when it comes to approaching lone pretty women in bars. The shit type and the don’t-have-the-balls-to-be-a-shit jealous type, and I was the latter and in situations like this the prey becomes the hunter and it’s all just an under-stocked meat market trading in egos, tits and shame.”
― John Bowie, Untethered

“I could see the road ahead of me. I was poor and I was going to stay poor. But I didn't particularly want money. I didn't know what I wanted. Yes, I did. I wanted someplace to hide out, someplace where one didn't have to do anything. The thought of being something didn't only appall me, it sickened me. The thought of being a lawyer or a councilman or an engineer, anything like that, seemed impossible to me. To get married, to have children, to get trapped in the family structure. To go someplace to work every day and to return. It was impossible. To do things, simple things, to be part of family picnics, Christmas, the 4th of July, Labor, Mother's Day . . . was a man born just to endure those things and then die? I would rather be a dishwasher, return alone to a tiny room and drink myself to sleep.

My father had a master plan. He told me, "My son, each man during his lifetime should buy a house. Finally he dies and leaves that house to his son. Then his son gets his own house and dies, leaves both houses to his son. That's two houses. That son gets his own house, that's three houses . . ."

The family structure. Victory over adversity through the family. He believed in it. Take the family, mix with God and Country, add the ten-hour day and you had what was needed.

I looked at my father, at his hands, his face, his eyebrows, and I knew that this man had nothing to do with me. He was a stranger. My mother was non-existent. I was cursed. Looking at my father I saw nothing but indecent dullness. Worse, he was even more afraid to fail than most others. Centuries of peasant blood and peasant training. The Chinaski bloodline had been thinned by a series of peasant-servants who had surrendered their real lives for fractional and illusionary gains. Not a man in line who said, "I don't want a house, I want a thousand houses, now!"

He had sent me to that rich high school hoping that the ruler's attitude would rub off on me as I watched the rich boys screech up in their cream-colored coupes and pick up the girls in bright dresses. Instead I learned that the poor usually stay poor. That the young rich smell the stink of the poor and learn to find it a bit amusing. They had to laugh, otherwise it would be too terrifying. They'd learned that, through the centuries. I would never forgive the girls for getting into those cream-colored coupes with the laughing boys. They couldn't help it, of course, yet you always think, maybe . . . But no, there weren't any maybes. Wealth meant victory and victory was the only reality.

What woman chooses to live with a dishwasher?”
― Charles Bukowski, Ham On Rye

“I investigated her topnotch features and allusive intentions. She was the typical glitter-headed scene-bitch that one expects to see in a place that is much more happening than a randown bar on the end of town. The type that lives the in-scene and bleeds vodka and cranberries. Fun now, fun for everyone around her, but in ten years, maybe less, she will be a lonely dental assistant or cocktail waitress wondering what happened, where did she go wrong?”
― J.C. Wickhart, Inappropriate

“Salvage what you can so you don’t end up like me; bitter and hateful but disguising it with a smile, and then hide it away under the cover of wild nights and very early mornings.”
― J.C. Wickhart, Inappropriate

“Los humanos buscan respuestas constantemente.
Pero saben que no hay ninguna.”
― Noah Cicero, The Human War

“I sit in the car, staring up at the big corporate beast of a hotel where everyone from prime ministers, presidents, pop stars and the red carpet parade had fucked, pissed, slept and golfed away our taxes and respect. I would need to strap on a pair before I enter.”
― John Bowie, Untethered

“A fucking gorilla was murdered in a zoo last month and you’re telling me to have faith in our country?”
― J.C. Wickhart, Hills

“Yes, I did promise you a role but your options are quickly narrowing. You’ve got a nice set of natural tits and a cute little tush; it's time to reevaluate your attributes and consider your options.”
― J.C. Wickhart, Hills