Monthly Archives: January 2022

Please Love This Up-dated, Un-Varnished Post. I Poured My Heart Into ‘Building’ It “Part Six of A Sailor’s Scholarly History of the South Pacific: Mary-Lou and Mama-San and Gainful Unemployment” (Sorry for my profanity: I am a sailor after all)

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Bloody Mary

Fun Little Known Fact:

Most of the Actors in this Scene Are Gay

Hahahahah!

“What ain’t we got? We Ain’t Got Dames.”

I love this movie.

I have spent far too much of my life in the South Pacific.

Cred: Rodgers & Hammerstein

Here is how Bar Fines are designed to work in Olongapo:

  1. You pay the girl’s bar fine to the Mama San
  2. You get a receipt.
  3. You take your ‘rental’ to your room.
  4. You fuck her.
  5. Sometimes you feed her first.
  6. Thusly sated, satisfied, you cast her away.

Here is how bar fines are not designed to work:

  1. You do NOT Lose it. (Your receipt)
  2. You broke it; you bought it.
  3. You hand over your receipt to your rental so she can leave you.

Well, that is the short version.

The thing is, in Olongapo, Bar Girls walking about on Magsaysay Blvd, alone, without a bar fine receipt are considered in the eyes of the law to be ‘common’ street walkers. And subject to arrest.

And thrown under the jail.

For months.

So what was the very first thing I did with Mary-Lou Perucho?

I handed over my Bar Fine Receipt.

“Here ya go Darling. Put this in your pocket. Don’t lose it. Now shall we go to my hotel?”

“Sure.” She said nervously.

So we went to my cheap hotel. I had no intention of having sex with her. I was just lonely as I have mentioned. I just wanted to talk with her. Get to know her (not in that biblical sense—in that humane sense—I was lonely and she reminded me of an old High School sweetheart…)

I had been drinking (duh), so I excused myself after I had parked her in front of the television. I went to the head, took a piss. Came back. She was gone.

She had left me.

Guess she thought I was gonna try to fuck her.

( I had no such intentions)

But who could blame her for leaving?

I weighed in at two-hundred pounds and change.

She was, soaking wet, about ninety eight.

If I had fucked her, I might have broken her.

But apparently caution  being the better part of smart told her to bug out.

And I had given her, her pass:

The Bar Fine Receipt.

It made me sad that I had not expressed well enough my benevolent propensity.

Of course, like the asshole I was, I went back to Viva Young the next afternoon and complained to Mama San. I wanted my money back. My rental had left me.

Mama San was not amused, but in the spirit of good customer service, she fired Mary Lou.

This was NOT the outcome I desired.

So now was I not just an asshole, but a stellar asshole.

I would have to search out Mary Lou and attempt to make things right.

All I truly wanted was a pretty girl to lay down beside me and hold my hand and listen to my stories…

And keep me company.

And pretend as if she cared.

Just pretend.

I’ll pay you.

After we pulled out of Olongapo, I sent her money every month for a lot of months. When we eventually returned to Ologapo after some months I looked her up and gave her a bunch of gifts I had purchased with her in my mind in Hong Kong. She really was not impressed. Hurt my feelings.

Linda is so beautiful.

To Be Continued

Part Five Maybe? May Be Discovered Here:

Part Five of a Sailor’s Scholarly Series on U.S. Naval History in The South Pacific: ‘The Beautiful Girl With The Red Balloon’

Re-Boot. Not Sure Why. “Please Stand By” A Change Is Gonna Come

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Now, I know what a few of you (you happy few) may be thinking:

“Lance has run out of material to honestly write about.” (Since I seem of late to be posting only video and Lenny bits with a few rants thrown in for balance.)

And I can certainly understand how you might come to that conclusion.
Please allow me to assure you: nothing could be further from the truth.
Without putting too fine a point on it, I am in a transition. (Personally, not Blog-wise—I remain true to my Charter and the ambitions that prompted me to launch this Blog—so don’t get worried.

And I did reserve the right to follow ‘much more as becomes my wont, )

There is a wealth of old and new and in-between stuff on deck. And trying not to get cliché, I may be forced to pull the plug soon, but only for a little while until I land back on my feet.
So…

If you log on to me one day and see this:

Please Stand By

Please Stand By

You will know what happened.
Thank y’all for your support.
And by the way, Now I am going to spend the rest of my time this evening catching up with all y’all folks out there whom I enjoy following.
(And damnit! Tis a sad Day For Me here In Mudville, ‘cause Mighty Phil (Mickelson) has struck out. The good news is that there is a Texan leading ‘The Masters’ going into the final round tomorrow.
Rock On! Jordan Spieth!

(See? I can do white. With the best)

beside the point….

At some risk of pissing off the Civil Rights’ Folks I am leaving you with this Sam Cooke. And certainly not trying to co-op the Civil Rights’ Movement, but when words and songs and meaning from a movement cannot touch all the people, well then it is really not a ‘movement’ per se, is it?

And it is a really cool song: part of our American Heritage; not just for Black Folk.

But for all of us who crave for a better change.

Hope you enjoy the inspiration.

Cred: Sam Cooke

Cheers,

Lance

“It’s Been Too Hard Livin’, But I’m Afraid To Die.”

Sorry Kids. Had to Re-Post This—Expanded A Bit. I Miss My Navy SEAL Training Daze! “Happy Cockeyed Optimist. I’m Stuck Like a Dope With a Thing called ‘Hope’–C’est Moi!”

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I’ve loved my life!

Cockeyed Optimist

Mitzi Gaynor

Never Worry!

“Worry” is the most useless waste of human emotions

A waste of time and energy!

Video Credit: BobbyMcFerrin #DontWorryBeHappy #Vevo

Late entry/addition which no one will see. I drop it anyway. just a fond memory:

When I was in Navy SEAL training, late Eighties, we had, everyday, to run around with IBS on our head (IBS: Inflatable-Boat-Small).

This is part of a song we made up:

“Oh IBS! Stuck To My Head I Guess!”

The Instructors Often Filled Them With Sand.

Just For The Added Fun

Rock Portage

So Much Fun!

(One of My Shipmates Managed To Break His Leg While We Were ‘Performing’ This Fun Little ‘Evolution’.)


NAVY SEAL TRAINING: BUD/S Surf Passage

I loved My Times Two Navy SEAL

Training Experience (’86 & ’88)

This Guy A Clone of All BUD/s Instructors.

Best of Instructor Patstone: 

******

One day, one morning, my class mustered and went to retrieve our assigned IBS’s. Someone in another boat crew was laughing manically.

WTF? I pondered.

I walked over to the boat crew.

“What is so goddamn funny?” I asked.

“Lookit this shit” one said.

I looked at their IBS.

One of the SEAL instructors had spray-painted on all the IBS’s

“Don’t worry; Be Happy.”

I had to laugh.’

I did still manage to maintain my sense of humor, even though I knew I was probably gonna die that day…. Damn! I miss those days. And all the ‘good’ times! Yeah. Believe what you’ve heard/read: SEAL training is BRUTAL. But ya gotta keep a sense of humor about you. Or at least in your pocket.

****

I love Barb in Her Sailor Suit!!

(Judy, You know I LOVE You Too!)

“Happy Days Are Here Again!”

Video Credit: George John

Snuff Crisis Converted. Deftly Averted Thanks to Kind Neighbor Friend Tim

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He drove me to the hospital (to retrieve my missing in action car keys) Then he drove me to the beer store to purchase Cope and Hope. I Love Good People. Good Neighbors

Just for fun

In case You Missed it Before:

Copenhagen!

I LOVE Snuff!

Can Never Git Enuff!

I cannot discover who to credit for this

Screw it!

I’ll get to it

Moldy Moldy Old Oldie Re-Run, (Just Fer Fun)–Tattoo (or ‘This is awkward,’ or ‘Open for Suggestion’) Or… “Don’t Shit Where You Eat.”

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Tom Waits – “Eggs and Sausage

(In A Cadillac With Susan Michelson)”

“Why do men chase women?”

“I think It’s Because They Fear Death”

Author’s Note:

Yes. I’ve done some incredibly stupid shit in my time.

Below is an actual-for-real email I sent to a soon-to-be former boss (an attractive lady-boss, of course.) and is sadly very close to the top of the Misfit Hit Parade of lame-ass-actions I have perpetrated on innocents.

***

I have swerved into the solution for Drunken Emails.

Who could’ve known it would be this simple?

Street Cred for Vid: Big Play Films

***

From: Moron <lance_moron@misfits.fubar> cc bcc:

To: Lady_Boss@job.yrfired

Subject: Tattoo

Dear Suki,

Yes, I am getting a tattoo (for my ‘mousing’ musing hand).

It will read simply, succinctly, in Big Bold Letters:

“No!”

Subtle Reminder:

“No! Don’t Go There Lance!”

Brevity? Yes. (‘That soul of wit.’)

“Words have meaning Son,” my father often told me.

And short words, I have discovered, oft hold the most meaningful meaning.

It has been ‘awkward’ (to say the very least) to face you of late.

After my ‘email shot-gunning’ you, off-the-chain escapade of recent shameful regret, but… I did it and today found the courage to read all of what I did send and happily discovered, most were not of the obnoxious caliber of my historical wont.

Thank God and Baby Hey Zeus!

Alas, I wish I had an excuse.

Yet, in searching, there is one to be discovered, but so probably painfully evident that it requires no verbalization:

Two times per year, I get to ‘explore’ my darker side.

Two times per year, I choose a ‘lucky’ recipient to ‘share’ in my darkness.

Two times per year someone gets to be ‘it’.

Guess what?!

Tag!

You won!

You’re the New ‘IT’ Girl!

Congratulations!

You’re in Good Company.

Clara Bow: The Original It Girl, 1927

***

The thing about writers (and those so-called writers who call themselves ‘writers’) is that they are so full of themselves, so full of shit & vain by nature (it is requisite-with the breed), and every writer and so-called writer I have ever met, are… assholes. All.

Vain, pompous, drinks-too-much, full of sound and fury, and desperation just to be read.

“A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

Desperate for…

Crying for…

Waiting for…

FEEDBACK

I am not (not really) stupid.

I know you cannot ‘comment’ nor even acknowledge, via email, all the posts I posted ‘at you.’

I dare say you would be wise to ignore me and my ramblings, given our professional relationship.

Yet, if you did read even one of the posts on my blog, (actually I think you read the first one I begged you to read—not the ‘best’ one, but one which apparently was on my mind–at the time)

It is a very simple thing to comment, ‘in disguise’ as

‘anonymous.’

Or ‘any-mouse.’

Or simply, “A Fan.” (tongue in cheek)

Too easy.

Do that once and I will be sated.

Do it twice and you get a Mickey Mouse Pencil Sharpener,

OR

An Autographed 8X10 Hollywood-Type-Glossy Photograph of Jesus Christ.

Sermon-on-the-mount, highly recommended, and our best-seller

But you cannot have both; there is a limited supply.

Do it thrice:  You should seek counsel.

Professional help.

Honestly.

Never mind…

“Writers are assholes.”

“Lance is a ‘writer’”

“Ergo, Lance is an asshole.”

***

Suki,

There is a point to this post, but most assuredly, I have forgotten my initial inclination in that regard.

***‘Jeopardy musical theme plays***

Oh yes!

Now I’ve got it!

This is my convoluted apology to you.

I am, and shall always remain, an Honorable Military Man.

I am cognizant of the duty (and the mission)

And, admitting I was wrong is something which seems to be easier (and more difficult—same time) to do lately.

My first wife once accused me of aspiring to be “King of the Idiots.”

(She was an idiot savant…well, you’d have to know her to get my meaning, yet, I think–know, that I have posted about her…ON-MY-BLOG)

Back to my point:

Suki,

I am beginning to grow bored with my job.

You are the best supervisor/boss I have had in recent memory. All, and I do mean ALL respect you.

This should be enough for me (and for the foreseeable future it shall be)

But…

I don’t like to shit where I eat, BUT (and this is a curse), I have a opinions and I need to get that tattoo—post haste—and with all due prejudice.

I like you Suki.

I respect you.

I am trying to help you professionally (in my way).

And NO!

I am not trying to ‘do’ anything other than ‘talk’ to you and ‘work’ for you.

To quote Nixon:

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear…”

I am a whore, but only when it comes to my writing.

Nothing else these days (aside from my computer addiction) means anything to me.

Rest easy.

I am not as bad as I may, at first glance, appear

(Truth: I am worse, but I do not bring that to WORK)

Cheers,

—Lance

(Yes: you may quote me. I’d be flattered…. Hahahahaaa)

See you on Friday.

And remember not to work too hard.

Life’s best moments can be fleeting.

Cherish Them

***

Number One

“Win or lose, win or lose
To the losers go the heart-sick blues
To the victor goes the spoilings
Honey, did you win or lose?”

Lovely, Beautiful Joni