Y’all

Now, let us ‘deconstruct’ “Y’all”

Why not?

In the English Oxford Dictionary, ‘you’

“Used to refer to the person or people that the speaker is addressing”

See?

Plural.

Simple.

Yeah, not so fast.

Southerners having none of that.

See? English English breaks down right there.

We (us southerners) need more.

Southerners need ‘Y’all’

Now ever’one needs “Y’all”

Sometimes… we need “All Y’all.”

(just to make certain there is no ambiguity)

Jes’ sayin’…

And P.S. My good friend, Pain,  over at http://exileonpainstreet.com/

 once said, and I try to quote:

“If I see too many posts in My Reader… I get ‘overload’ and delete them all.”

He said that.

I admire that: his truthfulness.

I too, try and usually fail, to read… ever’one.

But..

But… I never delete.

I just try to catch up.

That’s all.

Y’all.

 

Perusin’ For a Brusin’

I was perusing my recent posts (Yes I do that, mostly to make sure I did not fail to comply, to reply to any and all comments—my ‘House’ Policy: ‘Reply, Upon Pain of Death, To All Comments’–That is how WE Roll.)

In some truth, I do this because I am just that vain.

Well now, with that little bit of TMI outta the way, Here is the pointless point to this ‘pre-post.’

“A ‘Pre-Post?’ some may ask.

“Yep. A Pre-Post.”

“Whatever could he mean?”

“Just this:”

Often ideas for ‘posts’ come from music (duh).

As I was driving to the Beer / Copenhagen Store, my Favorite Radio Station (read: the only one whut is worth a shit here in this Elvis’ City of Music by the Mississippi), was playing this song:

Vid Cretion (sp): 

It, the song, reminded me of my first Stripper/Madonna/Whore/Single-mother/mutha/ethnic sexual love of my life.

Yes.

I was, if memory serves, 10 years old at the time, yet I never ever forgot her name:

ROXANNE

And she ruined me for all the ‘other’ women to come, or not to come, in my life.

Thanks Hun…

Stay tuned…

P.S. And of course there is some ‘back-story’ to this “Pre-Post”

Hell! There always is and generally accompanied by a ‘link’.

If not, well then… then you would not be here at TT&H.

Now would you?

Then

Here is the ‘Back Door’ Policy.

And whoever said the Eighties were devoid of good music??

Hell! I love(d) them. Grew into Manhood in Them…

But…Call Now! And We’ll DOUBLE THE OFFER!

(just pay extra shipping an’ handling….)

OKay! I’ll bite.

Send me two… Of these:

I’ll pay.

fred

Fred

 

 

 

 

 Just kidding Fredricka!

(All thinking folk know you are priceless)

Rock on!

(Fred is the ONLY Reason God Made CNN Weekends… and most likely: Oklahoma–We will not speak of Texas—yet.)

Just Saying…

And… She runs/swims/bikes in Triathlons

For Good.  

‘Renaissance Woman’ 

I love her and so should you.

And…

I know ‘we’ are all so ‘distraught’ over Joan’s passing, but… she did show her ‘ungracious’ ass.

And ‘Fred’ remained, retained as always,

Her True Ladyhood and just good manners.

This is how we should all ‘roll.’

Sea (Somewhat of a Stream of Almost Consciousness)

The scariest thing to me…

Was at sea.

In the Indian Ocean, late one night

(That “IO” That Ho!)

Late at Night.

And the ship was tight.

And the waves were big.

Real big.

IO, She was angry.

And I was scared.

(No! HE Was scared).

I was never scared!

I was drinking coffee… And in between, walking on the bulkheads—all you sailors out there—can relate, and compare…

Never scared, but aside from my ‘coffee mates,” I knew, did, had done… the same drill… Too many times. (Fuckin’ Black-Shoe Navy!)

And if any of y’all find any of my  ‘Sea Stories” unbelievable…The preamble to any good sea story is “This is a no-shitter…”

And then there was Melville…I’ve been around the world and  once saw two white whales fuck.. I did. And there were dolphins… standing by… giggling.

 I have been to Australia.

Twice

And it follows, I have been to sea before:

And here, (for you purists) is the original, stolen from “Hejira”:

My Thanks to

“I’m just a simple soldier Son.

“With one more Year to Go.””

Some May Call This as a Call… To Y’all

But, I call it…. Nope!

Yer call!

“The cannons don’t thunder; there’s nothin’ to plunder…”

Y’all know…

Here is an opinion y’all did not see coming: This is a Stupid Fantasy Song. A Texan said that! Nay! I am (he said, “A Comanche!” 

Now, that is funny…

Guess so… 

Not to put too fine a point upon it, but, I have a finite time left. Once upon a time, I stepped on a dime and it was promised to me, you see… I never contemplated ‘finite’, as you see, everything was infinite to me… And in my unsung mind, that was how it should be. Unshining dime.

No mas

No more.

Certainly no less.

No

Anyway, as ‘brevity is the soul of wit…’ I find me witness, er,  wireless, sycophant.

I got ROBBED by Thesim And some other is ‘ISM’s!!!!

(Yes! I am looking for a fight. A fight with all you Hyper-Christians. Yep)

And yes! YES! We can be as radical as you!

I Had to go to Egypt. Egypt! Egypt! 

To sate… me.

Fuck!

Upon sober reflection, I decided to ‘edit’ that bit out.

Why?

“Why, Oh Why Lance, do you edit yourself?”

“Because I can Grasshopper. Because I can.”

You!

 And, NO! This ain’t no suicide! Note: This is a preamble, to the gamble… I lost.

Lost? You ask?

Yes! Lost!

Lost!

The curve!

That curve!

That, “Hey Lance! Let’s run dope! Lance! No,”..Lance, let us not ‘run’ thru mis…Miss Mis. No!”

I made me. I did that. I worked hard. I was honour. I was. It was never enuff to make the money. Was it?

There was never enough!

Was There!!

Apparently not.

 

AND YOU KNOW WHAT??

I laugh at my own hyperbole.

I do.

 I really do …

fade back into the shadows; I Am no World Leader…

But I screwed the pooch…

and then I begged forgiveness from my father.

Guess what?

He gave.

I denied. For you see? 

That did not matter anymore.

Now, this is a test.

Why?

Because I am bored. I have severed my country… 

I Just wanna see…how good… is the NSA.

(and… I am a bit of a ‘rebel’ all in all…)

And when the U. S. A. Understands that, then that… will fix…

And vex… us all.

****

End of Rant (ain’t ya glad?)

-Lance (The Nice One)

Peace.

 “Just takes a while!”

I feeel like I’ve drown’d’

Gonna he’d up town…

 meanwhile back at the ranch…

Da Plane! Da Plane!