And Lenny (and Christopher) Lives (again) Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid (sic)

Below please find today’s bit:

(May be offensive to people of faith)

(If you are religious, you may have swerved into the wrong page.)

Even that statement is wrong. It presupposes that religious folk do not have a sense of humor, or that they are intolerant of not-religious folk. I know of only one religion which is totally intolerant and not open to sense of humor. I don’t need to name it, but we all know its name (Shhh…. Don’t tell. But it starts with an M and ends with an ‘um’.   Yeah! You guessed it: Methodist-um”

(Now I know, I have been uncharacteristically silent on the ISIS CRISIS in specific and ‘Religion Poisons Ever’Thing’ in General. I am ‘back-building’, much like that volcano in Iceland. What you may experience here, today, is just a fissure, impotently  spewing. ‘Fissuring’, if you will. Don’t worry: The Big Bang is coming folks and it ain’t gonna be nothin’ nice.)

Shhhhh…. don’t tell. Keep yer head, and yer wits, and yer tits, and yer clits about you.

So… Don’t speak. Bad for your health: ‘Speaking.’

Listen / Watch Here Below: And Christopher’s last line (in case you missed it)

“Stay cool.” 

So ‘be cool’ and watch it, for it is timely, given our present present.

Video Credit:

therealtalkpolitics

The Lenny Bit (Religion Inc) Listen if You Please:

Oral_Sucker_Born

Oral Roberts

Billy_Time_Mag

JohnXXIII

Pope John XXIII

lifecover_spellman

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More Lenny Here:

https://texantales.com/category/lenny-bruce/

Thanks For Listening

And just for fun:

And as a completely different aside: I got some very good advice from a very, well not very, not even a very good friend, let us just call her ‘an acquaintance’:

She chastised me.

Why?

Because I employ too many parentheses…. “Makes me hard to read.’  She said. ‘Madman,’ She said. Truth, she spoke.

Now that!

That!

That is good advice!

Thank you, Nameless Person.

 

Hey! I’m Writing Here! (Once Again)

Now, C’mon Y’all.

Vid Credit: Guyism

I am just having fun, exploring (exploiting?) some of my inane, insane, In-Same, recent posts.

And of course, I love to ‘share my wares.’ Because I am just that vain (don’t ask me why or how I justify that statement.)

So there!

If I post something you have already ready read, sorry…

New shit will be forthcoming.

And soon. And I promise. And the check is in the mail and I won’t… do that in… “Ah don’t go there Lance.”

But, in the meantime:

And not to put too fine a point on it (trite, yep): My writing and my posts are ‘all over some places…’  But ‘Twould behoove to follow some of the links, as I find them entertaining. (Your individual experience may vary, and even differ, or beg to)

***

Hey! I’m writing here!

(Fleeting thoughts seem to fly away. Okay? That’s Okay, Right? Isn’t it?)

Credit: https://www.youtube.com/user/mattfosternow

It is easy

“Now Go fuck off and leave me alone. And while you are leavin’ me alone, make me some more coffee.”

“Please.”

“and thanks for the pepperoni.”

(Sorry.. vague Lenny Bruce reference)

I actually said this aloud to my much maligned invisible muse. Bless her heart.

The dog walked over to me an inquired, “Hey! Rance!” (he cannot pronounce my name. He is a dog after all) “Rance,” he said. “You OK Bubba?”

(Overheard by some fly on some wall in some other multi-verse.)

Probably it was just the wind.

***

‘Tax Day’ (they say) Means nada to me: means  Bupkis! (great Yiddish word: use it in a sentence today and then it is yours for all of maternity)

Why? “‘Cause I had no income last year. That’s why!”

Oy vey! Yep! Good thing ‘bout that there: No taxes.

Moving on to today’s post…

(Oh yeah: first order of business: “The Daily Lenny”)

Well, You May Find it here, whisked into a long post about a mechanic. Yes. You will have to work to find it. So Sorry.

Let us paws for a second.

(Goddamnit Lance! Enuff with the fucking puns!)

Take a breath.

“This is swerving dangerously close to being another rant.”

*sigh*

“Yes. I know.”

*Moving on…*

Now Where was I?

Oh Yeah!

Taxes!

Not really.

CNN?

Nope (but theirBreaking Newsis ‘bout to break my spirit and my capacity to love anyone)

Serious for one second. I weep for those family who lost family on That Plane.

*Whew! Now we got that sentiment out of the way…*

Still trying to Move On Dot Org…

(Just kidding—I do not even know where that is)

More Breaking Fucking News!

Some idiot on CNN just said, “Let us be Frank.” (and Tom, Dick, and Harry)

(not sure in reference to what—generally—I only half-listen, but that one caught some vacant, unused part of my ear)

*Still trying to move on and find a purpose for this purposeless post*

Y’all know what?

This is gonna be an “all-day” project.

There is just too much shit running about in my head.

I will get back you.

As they say:

To be continued…

I am gonna repost this for two reasons:

One: because I missed Thursday

(Probably because I was in a coma)

Two: because I can.

And here is the bonus:

Because I miss Jimmy ‘Peanut’ Piland.

*****

“I dreamt a dream tonight.”

“And so did I.”

“Well, what was yours?”

“That dreamer’s often lie.”

“…In bed asleep while they do dream things true!”

“Oh! Then I see Queen Mab hath been with you!”

–R&J: Romeo and Mercutio,

Queen Mab:

Ya’ll gotta watch the video “or it all just falls apart” Just saying… (Yes! I feign Texan; it is my wont.)

After a night of hard blogging and writing of drafts, and becoming somewhat disillusioned and more than daft, I perished toward my bed, reaching out for the Arms of Morpheus.

Within moments, I slipped into that nether sleep, that sleep between sleeps, that semi-conscious state of affairs. Sleep, but Not Sleep.

Then I began to dream things that should have been true. But were not true, yet so true.

Wonderful words words words! Words to sate my unnourished prose.

Words swirl’d about in my mind like so many fireflies on a summer’s eve:

““Words, words, words!. Once, I had the gift. I could make love out of words as a potter makes cups of clay. Love that overthrows empires. Love that binds two hearts together, come hellfire & brimstone.”

— “Will Shakespeare in Love”

I had it (them, those) words… goin’ on. Brilliant words. Beautiful, poignant words! All right there! Right there In My Mind. I reached out my finger to tap the “Publish” Mouse.

My finger was frozen.

It would not move.

How hard I did try!

It would not comply!

I lay there in my nether sleep, commanding.

The hand, the one digit, just the finger! Demanding!

Just move the damn finger!

Would not.

Could not.

Then I realized:

I am with Dante now.

And Mercutio is Peanut.

And Peanut was my Mercutio

Yeah, Dante

Dante ‘R’ Us

And I Thought…

Once upon a time…

I thought That These would be Good “remember when, ‘Feel Good'”  posts/songs.

“The Good Ole Days… eh?”

Now, I know…

What the fuck was I thinking?

Video Credit: Carly Simon

Video Credit: adamtrng

Video Credit: MegaSanjul

I am very sorry, but I do not know, nor can I find where I got this video. Cheers to whoever posted it!

Vid Credit: Kanal von bluearmyfr111

Video Credit: Concordbeltcreation2

Again, I don’t recall where I got this one either… Sorry.

(Please go HERE for some (more sober) enlightenment and back-story about “Leroy Rastus–Rocky Raccoon–Coon.” And if you are ‘into’ exotic pet stories, well go here and here…)

Point is, I Wasn’t…  Thinking.

Some guy said once, “You can never go home again…”

He was a smart man, that man, that man who said those words…

I embrace those words.

Now.

–Good Night.

“…and all they wanted was to gaze into your eyes…”

(Yeah. I have a lost love; don’t we all?)

 

“Letter From a South Park Jail” (and some other bullshit)

(And with apology to MLK for appropriating a great title)

His “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” is some of the best contemporary writing ever… Google it.

Went trolling for JOBs in Afghanistan today: Found a few, so I thought I’d repost this to rein in my reins… Not!

Truth is, I cannot work in the United ‘Stats’. I miss my former life.

I need to be ‘institutionalized’ somewhere far far away. A place where life is tenuous at worst and exciting at best and the pay is good and booze is scarce and the women are… well, usually not to be found, except on the Internet (That is a JOKE, by the way…)

I must redouble my efforts to get ‘back to the Sandbox’, and I shall.

“Here hold this while I do that!” said the Texan to his credulous girlfriend/cheerleader as he handed her his half-pint of Jim Beam and hit the accelerator on his pickup truck and flew headlong into oblivion… “Roads? We don’t need no roads!”

Then they probably both died, as so many did tryin’ to fly, back in the Seventies….

***

This was originally posted 02 FEB entitled Letter from a Southpark Jail. I decided to re-post it as a series of ‘Chapters’ in the hope of making it a more manageable read.

Chapter One: PAX Terminal, Camp Dwyer

Dwyer_Marine_LZ

The following is a transcribed letter I wrote to a Significant Other while cooling my heels in Kandahar, trying to get my CAC renewed (Common Access Card: An ID card for Civilians working with the U.S. Military). ‘Southpark’ is, for lack of a better term, A Holding Facility ‘soullessly owned and operated’ by DynCorp International for transients, itinerants, sycophants, miscreants, and other sad and lonely temporarily homeless people just trying to travel through, hoping to land somewhere else and the sooner the better…  Southpark is understaffed, under-financed, under-achieving, and sometimes underwater. It is also overpopulated, misconceiving, deceiving and just plain infuriating. Southpark will depress you, repress you, digress you, digest you, and shit you out (if you allow it). Writing saved me from insanity there.

(Whew! That was some long-ass’d diatribe!

Read on: it gets grows worse.)

 

Dwyer Map

Saturday 28 July 2012, Camp Dwyer PAX Terminal, Afghanistan 1218hrs

Dear Lady,

I’m sitting in the PAX terminal. We boarded the plane, (Sixties-Era, prop job) a couple of hours ago, but they were just kidding. After sitting on the tarmac for about forty five minutes they brought us back here. Seems someone forgot to feed the hamsters which are actually responsible for propelling the plane and hence, they died. We were told not to worry; they are flying in some fresh, well-fed hamsters from KAF (Kandahar Air Field) and once they get those settled into the plane’s power plant, we will be good to go: wheels up around 1430hrs.

So here I sit, thinking of you, Dubai, and Hamster Avionics.

This PAX terminal isn’t too bad, as these places go. (I have seen worse—and better). Like every other facility on Dwyer, it is a tent, but it is a rather enormous tent and they have provided the weary travelers with bottled water and MRE’s. So I am sated, as far as it goes. You see, I really am low maintenance.

Not being inclined to ignore any opportunity to ‘talk’ to you, I am using the tools (pen and paper) I thoughtfully provided myself in the event such opportunity did manifest itself. So here I sit, happily communicating to you using Nineteenth Century Technology. I do hope you are properly impressed.

IMG2

Page From Original Document

“And what lovely penmanship!” She exclaimed.

“Thank you,” he said.

Looking about the terminal, I have pronounced us a motley crew: About a dozen or so Indians & Sri Lankans, some Filipinos, a smattering of American Expats, couple of Brits, and a few bored Marines behind the counter, whose job it is to search the TCN’s. The counter has a sign which reads: “TCN Search Area.” TCN: ‘Third Country Nationals.’ in case you didn’t know.

“What did you do in The War, Daddy?”

“Son, I put my hands all over aromatic TCN’s.”

“What’s a TCN Daddy?’

“Uh…That’s a very sophisticated weapons system Son.”

“Wow! Cool!”

1310hrs: PAX Terminal, Dwyer

Ok, for amusement, I took an inventory of the MRE’s stacked on pallets here in the terminal:

15 pallets

56 cases of MRE’s per pallet

12 MRE’s per case

Total MRE’s: 10,080 (assuming my arithmetic is correct; a rather liberal assumption)

Posted on each pallet are four signs which read:

DO NOT EAT!

Pending Inspection

MRE stands for “Meal, Ready to Eat,” in case you didn’t know, or in this case, Meal, Not Ready to Eat. (“We done been eatin’ ‘em anyways. Hope we don’t die of ptomaine before the hamsters do, causing our Turbo Prop to morph into a glider…”)

1441hrs:  Still in PAX terminal

Announcement: “Listen up! We couldn’t get the hamsters here, but we’ve drafted a couple of gerbils and they’re fit for duty.” (‘Now there’s some happy news,’ I mused.) He continued, “For all those going to KAF, this means now you’re flying non-stop,” (Guess gerbils are not certified for multi-destination air duty.) and your luggage is already back on the plane. As soon as we warm up the gerbils, you fly. Those of you who are going to FOB Shindan, you will follow me now.”

Someone pipes up, “Are we walking?”

There’s one in every crowd…

Having a few minutes to kill while the gerbils are doing their warm up exercises, I return to the MRE pile and rat-fuck a couple of the boxes. ‘Rat Fuck’ is a technical term which simply means, “To open several bags of MRE’s and take only the premium items, leaving the not premium items for the next schmuck attempting to do same.” An example of this would be taking all the Reece’s Pieces and chocolate chip cookies, leaving only the cardboard crackers and synthetic peanut butter.

GryphonAir

1600hrs: Airborne

Wheels up and airborne and the gerbils gerbilling their little asses off. Time to destination: thirty minutes.

1613hrs: Flying High (I wish)

I am seated in a window seat. Normally I would take the aisle, but I wanted to describe the spectacular view and with all the beautiful details of this rarified vista below:

BROWN

Perusing the in-flight movie list (from the one inside my head), I select Lawrence of Arabia (with subtitles in Pashtun). I estimate getting about half-way through the opening credits before we touch down. I listen to the wonderful Academy Award winning musical score. The scenes of the burning desert are so real inside my head that I actually break a sweat. This Special Effect is helped along quite nicely by the fact that the air-conditioning on this aircraft in non-functional. I suppose one of the collateral duties of the deceased hamsters was operating the A/C unit.

1638hrs: Wheels Down

KAF

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Beautiful Kandahar.” (I do not doubt his sincerity, but I did detect a bit of sarcasm in his voice.) “For safety, you are required”, he continued, “to wear your full body armor with your helmet when exiting the aircraft. There really is no danger, but we want you to sweat just that much more. Thank you for flying Gryphon Airlines today and once again, we apologize for the teeny tiny delay we had in leaving Camp Dwyer and we do hope you will… uh, be flying with us again soon.” (As if we will have a choice)

Parts  Two  Three  Four 

And Hey! I paid fer it:

Watch it!

 

Vid Credit:

Woody.