The typewriter belonged to Charles Bukowski, a man who knew more about cheap alcohol and ampethamines than any man except our next candidate.
A word from Mr. Bukowski:
he sat naked and drunk in a room of summer night,
running the blade of the knife under his fingernails, smiling,
thinking of all the letters he had received
telling him that the way he lived and wrote about that--
it had kept them going when all seemed truly hopeless.
putting the blade on the table, he flicked it with a finger
and it whirled in a flashing circle under the light.
who the hell is going to save me? he thought.
as the knife stopped spinning the answer came:
you're going to have to save yourself.
a: he lit a cigarette
b: he poured another drink
c: gave the blade another spin.
The Winners Are:
Not Duane - JD Rhoades hits a double with the first correct guess of the day, proving that he has no real day job.
Olen Steinhauer - For leaning in Bukowski's direction, which on some nights could have presented a problem with hygiene.
Daniel Hatadi - For waking up and finding his computer.
Duane - The smart one. He's right even when he's wrong.
And Jennifer, just because I'm so happy she comes around to brighten up the place.
Congratulations to all of our contestants and tune in tomorrow for a man who influenced a generation by typing.