Figured this is as good as that.
OR… why waste good ancient prose?
Here ya go:
Now that is a good term from the Cold War, i.e., ‘Le Space Race.’
However, it still rings true today; rings true as something, almost… unattainable, yet so very much coveted.
Cal Gone! Take me away! (sic) Yeah: sick.
Point is, I have spent the better part of my life ‘playing’ computer games. Some might be tempted to label them ‘video’ games.
(They are NOT video games, Love: they are ways I increase my mental, mental…”)
Old Story warning here:
That guy. That guy, who used to write about distance running, what was his name” Oh Yeah! Joe Henderson; I read all of his books… Oh yeah! He died of a heart-attack… Just details…
He wrote a bit:
His bit went something like this:
He was ‘runnin’ down a road. Some kid says, “Hey, Hi! Mister Jogger!”
He replied, “Hey Kid! I am not a jogger; I am a runner! A ‘Runner!’ Get it right!”
The kid replied, “Well then, why are you jogging?”
I had to laugh; been there, et etcetera…
This is the part where I get pissed. (And when I get pissed… well, you would not like me)
The worst thing one (amongst the uninitiated) is to say, proclaim:
“Are you still playin’ that damn stupid video game?!!”
“Yes Madame. I am.”
“Oh. Well, be a good boy and don’t go downtown, protesting’ and such…”
“Yessum. I won’t”
“Good boy there then…”
“Yes, Ma’am.” (“Now Fuck Off” This is what I did truly think)
But, she I did have a point, but my ‘point’ swerved into something else, which I really do not wanna talk about.
My point it thus: Kids that played computer games in the Eighties are now in charge of your world.
And to loosely quote Forrest Gump:
“That is all I am gonna say about that.”
And P.S., Yes! I have of late, been spending some quality time with some of my ‘computer’ games. They know me there, and I don’t have to be too creative (actually, I do, but most….) Well…
My blogging experience is failing me of late. Not to say that I do not appreciate The Community. Just to say… that I am between gigs and this is beginning to weigh upon me.
Certainly, I will be about, but please do not chastise me for not visiting your respective blogs on a respective basis. (My intent is to intentionally do so, albeit, tomorrow), yet… I am real tired.
And my health is no good.
I will catch up…
“For Love or Money”
“He Grabs At The Air Because There’s Nothin’ There…”
And yeah! In case you missed my ‘subliminal’ bullshit:
I still miss Shonnie
’tis a curse: A curse of a good woman.
I Miss his wit:
In a panic attack, I thought I was outta wine. I staggered into my galley.
I discovered two rather large bottle of Cab-Ner-Yay!
Imagine my heart-felt joy.
Perhaps there is a GOD Afterall????
I may not be here for a spell, Gotta focus on gettin’ drink
Lance Marcom is STUPID!
“Better Call The Whole Thing Off!
Fuk u WP!
“we can always count on the Lancer for a welcomed Joni infusion!”
Thank You Steve.
You do realize how I do despise Joni
There are Far TOO MANY ‘Word De-Pre ss’d’ “Help” Sites on the Internet.
Not Even One Is Worth A Cup of Warm Spit!
Just My Humble opinion….
we can always count on the Lancer for a welcomed Joni infusion!
I Have LOST My Fucking Mind:
Read The Books…
WaTCH’ED THE FUKKIN’ SHOW.
It is a very sorry, sad state of affairs, when the author of his own post is not allow’ed to ‘edit’ his own post…
FUK YU WORDPRESS!
Check this one out.
I Promise You, you will Laugh
Can’t speak for ’80’s music and puffing, too far back, I think. Was that disco? But if want sumthin’ the real deal of now, today, go discover Charley Crockett if you ain’t already. I found him 5 years ago. This month he made teh cover of Texas Monthly. It’s about time.
sINCE wORDpRESS iS stupid
And Will NOT Permit Me to Write/Publish any NEW Posts…
Drop in ‘Comets’
FUK U WP!
(PS., I Used to own an Aquarium Shoppe in Nac-Off-Doches, Tesas
I’m just a fukken fool to believe:
Spit An’ Shine,
Nickle an’ Dime
United States Fuckin’ Marine Corps!
I Can say that, b’cuz my Daddy Was a MARINE!
I was A Sailor
A Very Proud Sailor!
Marines and Sailors–Oil and Water,
I fucking LOVE This Movike, “The Right Stuff”
It IS AMERICA!
I Have read the fucking book.
And, in point of fact,
More than thrice.
And sorry/not sorry.
For My Profanity.
I am a SAILOR.
FUCK WERE YOU EXPECTING…
FROM A Sailor?
And No One Knew Their Names…
“And No-One Knew Their Names”
This Post is-All-Fukked-Up!
I dare not move.
B’cauz ever-time I move, my comp crashes again.
So what do I do in such times of frustration?
I throw my computer against the wall.
Works fer me!
And It FEELs GOOD!
LIFE’S SIMPLE PLEARSURES…
All Y’all Readers are My Friends.
And You Got to Have Friends.
I LOVE My Readers!
All Both of You.
Actually, I was born at four p.m.–on a Monday– In Ladonia, Texas—
But that just does not sound as poetic… Sounds somewhat Mundane, in fact.
So, for my purposes and the purpose of this narrative: I was born at mid-night—It was a Dark Ans Stormy Night…
“I record that I was born; at twelve ‘O’clock at Night”
“What purpose does my life have?”
I own Three, in Fact.
Of COURSE I HAVE A GUN!
“How come do you have a gun?
Lance sez: “I am/was/is a ‘Navy GM–Gunner’s Mate.
Fuck You expect?”
Secede/Sluiced/ suicide is painless:
“He’s a Well-Kept Secret of The Under-Ground
Just More Bang-Bang Catch-Up Colour to Him.
Just More 20th Century FOX!”
He’s a Well-Kept Secret….
The firmament of Tinsel Town
Is strung with tungsten stars
Lot’s of forty watt successes
He says, “Where’s my own shining hour?”
He’s the well kept secret of the underground
He’s in debt to the company store
Because his only channeled aspiration
Was getting back that girl he had before
He’s got stacks and stacks of words that rhyme
Describing what it is to lose
He’s got some just for laughs, he’s got some for love
That mainline to his blues
Some to shed a little light
On you and on me
Some to shed a little light
On a human story
The wars of pride and property
The rebel Irish and the promised land Jew
Fighting behind his eyes and over seas
Wounded in action and no ceasefire in view
Brave reporters bring the battles home
But tonight inside that box
Just more bang-bang ketchup color to him
Just more Twentieth Century Fox
All because that ghostly girl comes haunting
Just out of reach outside his bed
She kicks the covers off of his sleep
For the clumsy things he said
She commands his head
She tries his sanity
She demands his head
Vaguely she floats and lacelike
Blown in like a curtain on the night wind
She’s nebulous and naked
He wonders where she’s been
He grabs at the air because there’s nothing there
Her evasiveness stings him now
With long legs, long lonely legs
Bruised from banging into things
One day he was standing just outside her door
He was carrying an armload of bright balloons
She just laughed
She said she heard him knocking
And she teased him for the moon
“Is one the moon, dear clown
Tied to a string for me?”
He tried but he could not get it down
For truth or mystery
He tried but he could not get it down
For love or money
“Wounded in Action, And NO Cease-Fire In View”
“Firmament of Tensile-Town — Joni
Here’s an old joke:
“Do You Know Why The Romans Built The Coliseum Round?
So The Italians Wouldn’t Shit In The Corners.”
You Can Look It Up.
Please follow this Yellow-Brick Road:
I cannot even ‘post’ a comment on my own WP Post. Thank YOU WP!
Now Politely (and silently) go fuk off!
If I only had a brain
If I Only Had-A-Brain…
This Wanna-Be Link is ALL Fu*K Up!
The Pecan Pie Episode:
I First ‘screened’ this Movie,
The Heartbreak Kid
In The HG Movie Theater & Heavy-‘Petting Parlor’ Back in ’72…
Had to back and watch it four more times
OH SCREW IT!
THIS IS The Clip I Wanted To Post.
I am such a F*cking MORON!
I HATE YOU WORDPRESS!!!
Certainly NOT TWICE!
Oh Screw it! I JUST Wanted To Drop ‘The Clip’–Not the Entire Fricken Movie!
Why are ALL Nineteen Eighties’ Movies Stuffed With Song Video Puff-Pieces??
Why Are All Eighties’ Movies Filled With Song/Video Puff Pieces?