SNAP OUT OF IT!!! This is a Stupid Post. This is Precisely Why I Re-Post it. Lance!@ Lance ROMANCE! LANCE! at a Glance! Lance! Lance! Lance! Snap Out of it! (If You Don’t Catch The Inter-text ref to “Moonstruck” Stay away from my life. I don’t want you hangin’ around, doggin’ my heels–draggin’ me down.)

Uh, Where’s the Met?”

Laughing my fukkin’ ass off

“I said something stupid—this has Never Happened Before”

Go ahead

“Say something stupid Lance.”

“Give me some time’ I’ll come up with something.”

Stupid is Un-Fixable. Just Deal With It as best you can.

Lance.

Lance!!

“Lance!!! Wake The Fuck UP!!”

Continue reading

I’m So Fricken Stupid… I’ve Misplaced My Mind. Cannot Believe I Actually Wrote This Shite! “Daily Lenny: Judge Aaron Albamiser (sp) And This Has Turned Into a Rant. Sorry…” Well, Fuck Me! Word-De-Pressed Will Not Allow Me to Properly Edit This. Imagine My Surprise!

P.S., the Fonts in this post ar’ all fucked up. I’m too lazy to fix them. I hope yu can read. If’n Ya wanna….PPS This Post is Rather ZObnoxious and Insulting. If Your Skin Be Thin, Don’t Read It. Just go somewhere else.

****

Judge Aaron Albamiser & Lenny Bruce:
“Thick Fingers and a Homemade Glass Eye.”
“A Red-Headed Junk-yard Jew.”

–Lenny

He Said “Blah Blah Blah”

Friends, Romans, (Progressive Texans) & Others:

(Don’t some of Y’all hate to be classified as ‘Others’?

Smacks of Intellectual Racism to me, but that’s just me.)

Don’t you fain to disclaim?

Me no Alamo!

How does it feel?

How does it feel?

How the fuck does it feel?

To be on the long side of the short fence?

For Real?

Lend Me Your Beers!

(And yer FB password. Trust Me. I’m with the Government.)

Here is your (once again belated) Daily Lenny:

And Thanks for Listening, wherever you are.

Let The Buyer Beware

And now I am gonna step out on a limb and say this:

I am with my Brothers and Sisters in the Ukraine.

Keep your eyes on the prize.

(And I do not speak that flippantly; I mean it. The whole world is watching)

Oh, and thanks for listening (Did I say that already?)

Well hell! Appreciation can never be over-played (if it is sincere)

In this case, rest assur’d it is (“Hey Madge?! Did he mean ‘over-played’ or ‘sincere’? Can never get a ‘read’ on this schmuck.”)

Cheers to all.

And if you’d get a kick reading/hearing more about it, go here:

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

Simply because, “An uneducated proletariat is a danger to freedom.”

That is My Lance Quote; I just made it up. But, Goddamn it! I do believe it.

“Aw Shit! Lance dun gone Commie on us!. Git a rope!”

Not at all. Nope. Cool yer Heels Cowboy! Lance just knows something has gone horribly wrong…with His Texas, and more importantly, with His America. It used to be His America.

Now, it seems. It ain’t.

*End of Rant*

If you have come thus far…

Well; you are a Commie!

(Just kidding)

And of course…My National Anthem:

Just for Multi-Media Attention:

If You don’t want to stand in-line…well… REFORM

(If Y’all don’t catch my drift… well then:

I am writing with no ink in my virtual pen.

And the line forms to the right. 

Get in-line!

And have fun.

And y’all thought I was bull-shitting when I posted a previous Rant:

Wake Up Lance!

I was speaking To America.

My America.

Addendum:

I just recently completed a Mark Twain Marathon, by Ken Burns.

“Good for you, Lance Marcom; we are happy you are soooo.. much into (Our) American History…”

I wanted such a telegram, but, alas, there are no telegrams today.

So, it may seem I was born too late…

For such Liberty.

No matter.

WE, We, WE can forge our own liberty, in that same same spirit.

If we have the wherewithal.

Alas, I fear we have not.

We have the Constitution; we have The Law of Our Land; we have Our Precedent…

Alas, we have not the will

The Will, we lack . Today .

This was to be… a simple American Call to Arms.

Alas, I do not know if I am young enuff to muster:

My time has long since past.

I have not the passion to fight yet another war.

Lord knows (and that is a metaphor) I have NOT  the will, nor the strength to fight such a war, yet, I am there, in spirit. I would gladly die for MY Country: My long lost America.

Rebel? Most Certainly.

Rebellious against my country?

Never

Therein lies that dilemma,

Not I! For I am too old, and this kind of business falls to younger men

BUT, when I see the masses, the masses, in squalor, I get pissed.

Really pissed.

When CEO’s in this country make ten thousand times more than the workers…

Well, it upsets me.

(any geographical or grammatical errors are surely mine. I do apologize)

These opinions are solely mine own.

Yet, I welcome our modern-day NSA to come knock on MY DOOR.

I certainly do.

Now…

I can finally be sated (for now)

And…I am gonna continue with this for some few weeks, until I give up…

But, Y’all know, when I get unto a ‘kick’ I hang on.

So…we shall see.

–Lance Out

Wow Lance! THAT was some long-winded RANT!

heheheheh

No Worries: Nobody Read it but The NSA of the USA.

There’s somethin’ happening Here…

 

Wh Dom\n’t This Post Get No Lovve/ It is A fukkink Fun Post! (don’t drill down too deep; it gets steep) Letters From Iraq: A Day in the Life of a Camp Manager Serving in a War Zone In Eye Rack. (I’ll Finish Editing This Later: Screw it for Now–Sorry)

A Day In My Life:

“But I Just had to Look…

Having Read The Book”

Must I really type out all the lyrics?–

Just Listen to the GD Song

“He Blew His Mind Out In A Car”

Pretty Certain That is How I’ll Go

Oh No!

I Just Pray to GOD I Don’t Take Anyone Along With Me

For The Ride

Cred: The Beatles DUH!!

*****

An Excerpt from an email I sent from Mosul, late 2008. Victor was a soft-spoken, highly educated and proper gentleman originally from Nigeria. He could not have been more out of place and time. 

I realize this is rather a crude ‘toilet joke’ post, but it is a true story. Regarding ‘dirty words’ and ‘dirty toilet stories’, no one had better commentary on the subject than Lenny Bruce. Please have a listen below.

Y’all Wanna Know The Worst Tactile Sensation Ever? Of Course You Do. Dirty Toilet Jokes: I Cussed My Toilet Out. Then I Felt Remorse. Apologized. I Dialed 911. When the EMT’s Arrived, They Were NOT Amused.

Lenny Bruce – 1961 arrest for using obscene language

*************

There was another ‘Victor Moment’ during this morning’s meeting with Parsons and my Boys. After I had finished discussing everything I had on today’s agenda I asked if anyone had any issues which needed to be addressed. Usually there are none, but today Victor piped up and said,

“I want to report an incident that causes friction.”

“Now what?” I’m thinking. “Friction?” I said. “Friction’s no good; friction causes fires.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Victor said.

“Oh, of course not… Okay Victor. I’m all ears. What’re you talking about?”

“There must be more respect and decorum in this camp. This morning at the Tetra-Tech meeting, one of the security guys, the big fat one, sat right in front of me and he leaned forward and…’Brrrrruuuuppp!’”

Laughter all around.

“Victor, you mean he farted in your general direction?” I said.

More laughter.

Very serious now, Victor said, “Yes. This was disrespectful. I told the gentleman that this was not good to do this. He turned around and said, ‘No really; it’s good for you.’ I told him I did not appreciate this behavior. There were eye witnesses too. The CRG guys were sitting right next to me.”

Trying to stifle my laughs (and failing), I said, “Any nose witnesses?” Then over the howling laughter of the boys said, “Sorry Vic, couldn’t resist. So, do you want to, uh… file a grievance against this guy?”

“Not yet,” he said. “But I want it on record.”

“Ok Victor. Consider it on record. Hey Dana, would this be considered a health, safety & welfare issue and do we have a form for this kind of… uh, grievance?”

The Boys still giggling.

“I’ll have to look online and get back to you on that one,” Dana said as straight-faced as he could which wasn’t very convincing.

“Ok, please do that.” Then I said to all, “Does anyone else have any ‘incidents’ that require my attention this morning?”

Nope.

“Ok then, Launch!” (Which is how I end all my meetings: I ‘launch’ my Boys off into their work day.)

Later as I was signing out for my walk at the TOC (Tactical Ops Center—Radio Room) with the CRG guys, they told me they had an ‘incident’ to report.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Someone has farted at you, eh?”

Laughter again all around.

“Yes,” Garth said, “Actually not at one of us, but Victor was just in here trying to muster support for his case. Says we’re all witnesses and we will be compelled to provide a written statement.”

“Oh Christ,” I said. “This guy wears me out.”

“Well, we just fucked him off,” Mark said.

Gareth (the Welshman) chimed in, “Yeah, I told him, ‘Hey we’re all just a bunch of blokes working here for fuck’s sake! Take a look at where we work: fuckin’ Iraq. What a wanker!” (Gotta love those Brits)

“Well, I guess the war’s over,” I said.

“What?” Gareth said.

“War must be over if this is the kind of shit we have to worry about. Some people seem to think we’re working on Madison Avenue. Too bad Miss Canada wasn’t here for this. (She had actually been here for a USO Show a week earlier.)

We’d probably be looking at sexual harassment… Well, I’m off on my morning walk-about; gotta keep up my girlish figure ya know. You can call me on Channel One if there are any more wind-breaking developments.” I said as I headed out the door.

I could still hear them laughing and joking about Victor and his complaint as I walked away. I’m sure there will be more to this story. I sincerely hope Victor complains to Baghdad about this. Those guys could use some humor injected into their lives.

Once again, I really can’t make this stuff up.

Don’t have to; it all happened

 

Letters From Iraq: A Day in the Life of a Camp Manager Serving in a War Zone In Eye Rack. (I’ll Finish Editing This Later: Screw it for Now–Sorry)

A Day In My Life:

“But I Just had to Look…

Having Read The Book”

Must I really type out all the lyrics?–

Just Listen to the GD Song

Cred: The Beatles DUH!!

*****

An Excerpt from an email I sent from Mosul, late 2008. Victor was a soft-spoken, highly educated and proper gentleman originally from Nigeria. He could not have been more out of place and time. 

I realize this is rather a crude ‘toilet joke’ post, but it is a true story. Regarding ‘dirty words’ and ‘dirty toilet stories’, no one had better commentary on the subject than Lenny Bruce. Please have a listen below.

Y’all Wanna Know The Worst Tactile Sensation Ever? Of Course You Do. Dirty Toilet Jokes: I Cussed My Toilet Out. Then I Felt Remorse. Apologized. I Dialed 911. When the EMT’s Arrived, They Were NOT Amused.

Lenny Bruce – 1961 arrest for using obscene language

*************

There was another ‘Victor Moment’ during this morning’s meeting with Parsons and my Boys. After I had finished discussing everything I had on today’s agenda I asked if anyone had any issues which needed to be addressed. Usually there are none, but today Victor piped up and said,

“I want to report an incident that causes friction.”

“Now what?” I’m thinking. “Friction?” I said. “Friction’s no good; friction causes fires.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Victor said.

“Oh, of course not… Okay Victor. I’m all ears. What’re you talking about?”

“There must be more respect and decorum in this camp. This morning at the Tetra-Tech meeting, one of the security guys, the big fat one, sat right in front of me and he leaned forward and…’Brrrrruuuuppp!’”

Laughter all around.

“Victor, you mean he farted in your general direction?” I said.

More laughter.

Very serious now, Victor said, “Yes. This was disrespectful. I told the gentleman that this was not good to do this. He turned around and said, ‘No really; it’s good for you.’ I told him I did not appreciate this behavior. There were eye witnesses too. The CRG guys were sitting right next to me.”

Trying to stifle my laughs (and failing), I said, “Any nose witnesses?” Then over the howling laughter of the boys said, “Sorry Vic, couldn’t resist. So, do you want to, uh… file a grievance against this guy?”

“Not yet,” he said. “But I want it on record.”

“Ok Victor. Consider it on record. Hey Dana, would this be considered a health, safety & welfare issue and do we have a form for this kind of… uh, grievance?”

The Boys still giggling.

“I’ll have to look online and get back to you on that one,” Dana said as straight-faced as he could which wasn’t very convincing.

“Ok, please do that.” Then I said to all, “Does anyone else have any ‘incidents’ that require my attention this morning?”

Nope.

“Ok then, Launch!” (Which is how I end all my meetings: I ‘launch’ my Boys off into their work day.)

Later as I was signing out for my walk at the TOC (Tactical Ops Center—Radio Room) with the CRG guys, they told me they had an ‘incident’ to report.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Someone has farted at you, eh?”

Laughter again all around.

“Yes,” Garth said, “Actually not at one of us, but Victor was just in here trying to muster support for his case. Says we’re all witnesses and we will be compelled to provide a written statement.”

“Oh Christ,” I said. “This guy wears me out.”

“Well, we just fucked him off,” Mark said.

Gareth (the Welshman) chimed in, “Yeah, I told him, ‘Hey we’re all just a bunch of blokes working here for fuck’s sake! Take a look at where we work: fuckin’ Iraq. What a wanker!” (Gotta love those Brits)

“Well, I guess the war’s over,” I said.

“What?” Gareth said.

“War must be over if this is the kind of shit we have to worry about. Some people seem to think we’re working on Madison Avenue. Too bad Miss Canada wasn’t here for this. (She had actually been here for a USO Show a week earlier.)

We’d probably be looking at sexual harassment… Well, I’m off on my morning walk-about; gotta keep up my girlish figure ya know. You can call me on Channel One if there are any more wind-breaking developments.” I said as I headed out the door.

I could still hear them laughing and joking about Victor and his complaint as I walked away. I’m sure there will be more to this story. I sincerely hope Victor complains to Baghdad about this. Those guys could use some humor injected into their lives.

Once again, I really can’t make this stuff up.

 

Sorry Kids. This Requires A Re-Boot. “Hamas, Gaza, IDF, Israel, Intifada, and U.S. (us) And why we should Give A Shit (?)” (Thanks to my Wonderful, Great Friend, Johncoyote) For Reminding Me Thus.

John’s Recent. Go There

the holocaust — remembered…

Some of you may know of my history in the Mideast.  Most of you may not.  Some of you may know I get emotional about issues.

Some of you may not.

Some of you may give a shit.

Some of you may not.

I flip  a coin

It comes down on both sides.

It lands on edge and remains thus…

For ever.

No matter: I don’t have a dog in this fight: The current Fight between Hamas and the IDF (Israel)… Actually, I did, once upon a time, have a dog.  He died. But that was many moons ago.

And we did/didn’t call in the dogs back then: the ‘Fight Between the PLO and Israel’… “Let ’em duke it out!”

–Ronald Reagan, “et them all, et tu, Brutus?”

And about who could wrap some arms about Yasser Arafat?  No one. Not even Ronnie. Then he (Arafat) became ‘Rocky Balboa’ to some of rest of the world. Yes! Fast forward… but who among the thinking of us and the remembering of us, can ever forget

Munich in ’72?

Munich

And I was on the ‘good’ side.

I was for the ‘Home’ Team: Israel! Nineteen Sixty Seven! The shining moment of the IDF! Just like the Lord: ‘Fought for Six Days and Rested on the Seventh.”

“Didn’t them Jews kick the ever-lovin’ shit outta them A-Rabs?! Fought for Six Days…”

Biblical! (Yay God! and Madison Ave…)

Then I learned to read (and listen)

Point is:

I, as most of us (I hope) want the killing to STOP. It hit ‘Home’ today when I went to buy a beer. There were Palestinians in the road… In Memphis America! They were not happy. Unhappy Palestinians. Goddamn Right! They were unhappy! In Memphis!

I do not blame them. I am not happy either, but that said, Israel has some right to defend… don’t they? If you would like to argue, I welcome that, as I, more than some of you out there, have lived on both sides of that pond. And on both sides of that issue.

I have driven through Gaza. Too many times. I have seen the refugee camps. The poverty.

And I had intimate sex (is there any other kind?) with an Israeli Sabra, of Yemenite ‘distraction’ (i.e., she was Arab: Arab Jew) More than twice… Yet that sex did not prejudice me… (Well, maybe it did… just a little)

Putting sex aside, I know some politic, especially when it comes to Israel and Islam.

I have been on both sides.

Call me out, yet consider that I am foremost and always just a simple Texan.

So, be nice (or not)

Your Choice

Peace

(This Post is all over-some-place—- sorry)Just My Re-Livin’ My UBH Experience(s): “You Can Take That Mary Poppins UMbrella and Shove it Straight UP U’re Ass. And Then fly all the way home! All Alone.”

Fav Things:

I love Angela Cartwright

Esoteric Ref…. Sorry!

I Just Caint Hep it!

Lost in Her Space!

Her outter space space race!

****

*****

My Gawd! How Much How Much I MISS HER!

UBH Post Continuation Teaser

I Met such wonderful, intelligent folks in re-hab.

All were so intelligent and so eloquent.

No. I’m not talkin’ ’bout the staff; I’m talkin’ ’bout my fellow inmates.

Oh My GAWD!

Instant Karma!

“You Better Get Yourself Together;

Pretty soon You’re Gonna Be Ded”

 

I met a young broken woman while at Rehab.

(Hell! We were all ‘broken.’ Otherwise how the fuck did WE ALL END UP IN THIS PLACE??)

Let us call her name, “Kelsey” (Because that was probably her name)

Once while KNEE deep in some dark philosophical discussion she looked me dead in my eye and said,

“You can take that Marry Poppins umbrella and fly the fuck outta town.”

Instant Love and Instant Karma.

“Ethel, (The Cambodian) Pirate’s Daughter” seated next to me was not amused by my most recent love lust and infatuation.

But that is how things ‘work’ while in Rehab. Relationships are fleeting and ten-a-penny and not worth a cup of warm spit once one escapes…

Rehab.

Borrowed Karma

The payback and the interest is a mother-fucker.

(Please trust me on this; I know from where I speak)

Now, please, if you please, quietly fuck the fuck off.

“The line forms to the right.”

Internal Lance Voice chimes in:

“Who on Earth do you think you are? A Superstar?”

“Well Wrong You Are!”