An excerpt from Barbet Shroeder’s Charles Bukowski Tapes (1985), in which the crusty and hilarious old alcoholic writer (and inspiration to countless terrible would-be alcoholic writers) rides around Los Angeles — specifically, the intersection of Hollywood and Western — in a convertible and shows us where all the crazy people sit, where you can purchase lethal powders for 15¢ and who the hookers and dope dealers are. It’s a telling sign of Los Angeles’ depressingly unchecked development that one of the only buildings that’s still recognizable in 2009 is the dilapidated Le Sex Shoppe just east of Western on Hollywood. (via LA TACO)
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I lived on wilton and franklin across the street from one of Hank’s old flops, awesome hood, I stayed 10 years
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