The Wino And I Know!

No Whine Before It’s

Mine!

Street Cred: MoonLit Water

*****

Bonus Added Value!

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I know I am STUPID!

But, I just want to make people

LAUGH!

(This is My Mission)

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“Livin’ My Life Like A Song”

–Jimmy B.

“It’s A Strange Situation…

Wild Occupation!”–

JB–Again.

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Man Wrote some really Great Shit!

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I generally

Don’t Like

To End My Posts On A Down

NOTE,

But…

This Song…

Is My So-Called Life.

******

Very Long Ago…

“I thought I’d found a life to suit my style.

I was mistaken.

Institutionalized ‘R’ Us: Or, That Place I Need/Want To Be

How I sometimes See/Experience My Mental Life:

I have come to the stark realization that I am at my best when institutionalized.

Long and varied History of this

Follow The Orange Brick Roads if You Be Fearless, or Feckless–Either Works For Me:

My point, if I have one, is that I need ‘Structure/Routine/Schedule’ in my life.

Without routine/structure in my life…

This is one reason I was a good SFM/Egypt/Israel Man.

And such a great Sailor/Military Man.

And such a good Iraq Man

And such a good… Fuck it!

Y’all have picked up on my point.

Without routine/structure in my life…

I become self-destructive.

No! I do NOT slice my wrists.

I do NOT (overmuch) eat garbage food.

I do not (overmuch) drink too much OK, THAT is a Bald-Faced Lie.

I do NOT Listen (overmuch) to Disco.

I do NOT (overmuch) watch CNN.

I do not (overmuch) shit-post on Facebook.

But What I actually do and do too overmuch and over the top, is think too much.

Way too much

Reflect too much.

****

Returning to the original point of this post:

I need to be institutionalized.

Or as my Father once confided in me:

“I live in my own little world, but it’s okay: They know me there.”

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Flash Forward to ‘Present Day’:

Here we discover Lance, Living Large in The Lion’s Den.

No schedule.

No responsibilities

Nowhere to need to be

Sustainable cash inflow (Thanks Social Security)

Minimal Friends, FaceBook or otherwise to fret over.

Don’t feel compelled to answer my telephone if I don’t want to.

Valhalla, Right?

Heaven, Right?

Waco Texas, Right?

Wrong!

I am in Peril: With a capital ‘P’.

Left alone to my own devices and vices…

Well, it ain’t pretty.

And it ain’t nothin’ nice.

*****

I may or may not expand upon this derailed train of thought.

We’ll see.

(If I get any feedback, I’ll make an effort)

But, Y’all do realize, I am so busy right now going insane—almost a full-time job—requires almost all of my creative capital and ‘mental’ energy.

But, Please Stay Tuned.

Because if I know nothing else, I know I love my Readers.

Cheers Y’all,

–Lancers

P.S., Fairly Certain I would do quite well in Prison

(I have already been over the years)

But Pretty sure if I wanted to go to a ‘Real’ Prison, I could figure out how to get my cab fare–gratis

–L

I Just Want To Meet Jackie

The point of this post, if there is one, is that I have applied for no less than ten jobs in Saudi Arab today.

Some nine or so in various other shit holes, er, “Developing Countries,”  just looking for my next war zone to make me famous, not unlike Hemmingway. At this point in life, I must admit: prolly ain’t gonna happen. All I can hope for is some good monies and some decent health insurance (and maybe some ESOP), but Hell! At this point, I’ll work for room and board…but never bored.

Me? Bored? Never.

Again, when do I get to get outraged? Ppl in Ferguson get to be outraged. I share their outrage, but I just want a small piece of that pie. I have more than one decade experience working in dangerous desolate places, yet, I find it so very difficult to find a job in same. I am feeling some outrage here! I should be entitled. I did my time. Hell! I served my country.

To quote some not so famous line from the movie, “The Right Stuff,” “Where is my parade with Jackie? I wanna meet Jackie. They owe me!” I want to meet Jackie. Or at the very least I want a window… into my golden years. End of Rant…

-Lance

And of course, as y’all know, this was all ‘tongue-in-cheek’

“Hook ’em Horns!”

(That’s ‘Texan’ for ‘Suck it up and move that ball on down the field.’   Boys.)

Or, even better, to quote Dan Jenkins: “Y’all knew it was gonna be semi-tough, eh?”

And this “trailer” is semi-tough to watch, but it was as advertised: semi tough, as we were growing up in The Seventies.

And of course, as usual, this last link is the important one.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-qEmmpGYvA Video Credit: Erik Gloor

The Life of One Man

I really don’t have the energy (or the ‘want to’) to edit this…

Sorry.

***

(Broken down by decades)

Kinda…

57-60: Born

60-64: Awkward Years

65-68: Awareness

68-74: Lost virginity, Oh! And innocence

’74-’77: Self-Respect was an issue: High School, et al.

’77-80: Sinai Desert: lost loves (in the desert) came of age

‘80-‘85: Played at “making up for all the bad shit I did in ’77-80—failed.

’85-’90: Served my country (and served some wimmens)

’90-2004’: Worked a thankless job.

‘2004-2009’ Served my country again: This time in Iraq: So what??

2009-2011: Tried my hand at ‘House Husband—Step-Father—Fail.

2011-2012: Afghanistan

2012-til now: Adrift

Now, none of this makes sense to anyone but me, but, dear readers, I am working on a post (as always) to make some sense of it all.

Stray tuned…

–Lancer

And PS. Yeah, I know; this is self-serving, fore  for? no one reads anyhow…so… just for fun.

 Cheers,

L

Working on a new post, entitled “The Last Time I Saw Richard.”

Stay tuned.

(but do it quickly, ’cause “I’m gonna blow this damn candle out…”)

Peace.

 

War (or not)

“Some people say this song I wrote…”

“was very naïve.”

Or this:

 

I just put this video up to prove that I am as well, very naïve (and truth be told, I was inspired by a comment from David Scott Moyer)

http://davidscottmoyer.wordpress.com/