Category Archives: Blogging

More Dispatches From The Front Lines Of My Facebook Flame Wars

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Author’s Notes:

  1. My ‘War’ With Kent was better-natured than it may at first appear.
  2. No Gods were harmed during this war.
  3. Some mortal egos may have been bruised however.
  4. This post is a chocolate mess.

***

I once knew a Theist named Kent

Who told me his Joy Heaven Sent

But his mind slipped a gear

His faith fled in fear

So I gave up on Kent for Lent

***

What do you call a ‘Facebooker’ who accuses another ‘Facebooker’ of hacking his own post and then reports said ‘hacker’ to Facebook for hacking his own post and then posts on his timeline, in excruciating detail how he, using his stellar sleuth skillset, figured all this out?

Take your time…

OK, time’s up.

“A Self-Made Fool, Devoid of Logic, who plays the ‘Pity Me’ card because he wants to become a laughing stock for anyone who knows how Facebook actually works.” (And for some who don’t)

Or succinctly put, you call him “Kent”

But don’t take MY word for it; you can read some samples of his ‘piercing eloquence’ below:

***

To let everyone get a little good news or good thought or just bring a little happiness on Facebook. I try to be positive and enjoy getting in contact with others old and new friends.

Check my profile I want to share and be friendly with all post and maybe make a positive difference in as many peoples’ lives as I can. Try and let the good things in the world come to light. Every now and then I may post something negative but it is trying to make a positive difference.

This is as good of a world as you want it to be. I choose to try and stay away from the bad things in the world. There really is a lot of good going on out there. I want to enjoy and be as happy as I can. While sharing my happiness with all I can. Happy,happy,happy

–Kent

***

Dear Kent,

“While sharing my happiness with all I can. Happy,happy,happy”

Classic case of ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’

Who are you trying to convince of your “happy, happy, happy,” happiness?

You or ‘they’? All of ‘they’?

I think you, as do probably 99.99 percent of posters, just seek validation of your self-worth.

All are just ‘chasing likes’.

And this is fine—human nature, as it were.

I have read a lot of your posts on your timeline and your profile.

Sure.

And it seems to me your ‘happy happy happiness’ is primarily just a proselytizing form of sausage wrapped in a saccharine pancake smothered in syrup.

Once again, who are you trying to convince?

You?

Them?

Us?

Does your ‘faith’ require incessant posts requiring the great unwashed mass of the rest of us to “like, type ‘amen’, and share” if we too believe?

I’m actually not sure that I completely discount your sincerity, but it does tax credulity.

Marvelous much.

But you go Bro!

Keep posting your syrupy praises of God, Jesus, and whomever else gives you that happy,happy,happy.

Why the hell not?

Still a free country, eh?

Peace be unto you Kent.

Or perhaps that should have read,

‘Peace is onto you Kent.’

Cheers,     

Lance

***

My friend are you hell bent on trying to make people think you are an arrogant inconsiderate individual that places one under a microscope to disrespect their character coming to a narrow minded hypothesis attempting to destroy or manipulate their actions in such a manner that will somehow give you the feeling of superior intelligence that has no effect or the ability to change the individuals status or manner in which his goal to share and maybe bring a little faith and joy to their likes and beliefs.

Thank you.

I am only trying to stand strong by my spiritual beliefs. Sharing with those that I feel are doing the same. God bless you Lance. Thank you for two things. Bringing attention to others that my self worth and my ability to share my faith with others is of most importance to me.

I want nothing and I give God my Heavenly Father all the Praise and glory. For with out him I nor anyone or anything could be possible or exist. You should get what I have been blessed with.

Yes, you can be happy, happy,happy. Go for it it is a free Country. I truly believe you would have a different perspective on life in general and you can have topics that have a more sense of purpose. You are close what I think of my self is as important to me as what other think also.

I really appreciate your concern. At least you know the content of the majority of my post. This is my purpose to share with and post to my friends that enjoy and appreciate what I have to share. This is Facebook just as you shared your opinion you opened the door where I can share mine.

I hope you are not offended. This is not my intention and it will never be. God bless you Lance thank you for this humbling experience. Remember always give God all the praise and glory. Bless you once again.

–Kent

Dear Kent,

Your response is in serious need of an edit. Allow me to distill it down to the salient points:

  1. Lance is a pompous ass
  2. Lance believes (i.e., Lance has ‘Faith’—joke there for ya Kent) that he is the smartest person in the room.
  3. Kent is trying desperately to hang onto his faith by shit-posting endless memes over-expressing same, even though he freely admits that his intended audience already ‘believe’—preaching to the choir, as it were.
  4. Lance needs to ‘find’ God in order to be happy and have a sense of purpose.
  5. Lance needs to give an imaginary friend all the credit for everything Lance ever does. (I assume this includes both good and bad??)
  6. Lance needs to be blessed, and often, and by someone who knows how.
  7. That about cover it?
  8. You’re welcome

***

Dear Kent,

Lest I forget

I wrote these for you

Added a photo too

Share away!

Make someone’s day!

***

*Death Poetry Day*

He born

He torn

He die

He fry

*The End*

***

A post was once written

No one was smitten

I’d call that fittin’

Shit it was named

Its one claim to fame

Now that’s a damn shame

***

He once wrote a post

Lesser than most

Shit it was called

Comments were stalled

The content was trite

Just didn’t seem right

To waste all my time

Nor even a lime

To drop in my rum

Ho Hum! Ho Hum! Ho Hum!

(The lack of the lime was the least egregious of the sins)

***

A Cunt of a Man called Osteen

Built a Church so very Pristine

But he refused to let in

Those flooded in sin

“Fuck ‘em! They’re way too Unclean.”

“I know y’all love me. You need to get on social media. But First give Harvey-The–Hurricane the ol’ heave-ho! God Blesses you, but I don’t. Move along. We’re closed.”
–Joel Osteen

“My God, they killed them all!”

Here comes the story of the Hurricane.

Bob Dylan

“WoW! Who would’ve ever thought they’d find me doing God’s work?”
–Lance

***

“Lil Kim’s got the hydrogen bomb”
His news bitch announced in singsong
“He’ll mount it one day
“And launch it your way
“Then smartly fuck off to Hong Kong”
“So rong!”

***

There once was a boy name of Kim
Who decided to act on a whim
He launched a big bomb
In the direction of Guam
And that was the ending of him!

***

In a Loon we call Kim Jong-Un
The World sees a silly buffoon
But he put up his Dukes
Oh Fuck me; They’re Nukes!
And The World is now singing new tunes!
(So soon?)

Cheers Kent,

–Lance

***

‘A Celestial North Korea’

Credit: Christopher Hitchens

***

A full week has passed

Since Jon GOT that ass

Even Dany GOT pleased

By Crow’s bended knees

And now we must fast for Season The Last

(And That’s The GOTcha)

Bonus Content Below:

The Most Lovely and Captivating and Charmingly Endearing Emilia

***

The Iron Throne – Game of Thrones’ AWFUL final episode

Vid Content Cred: Critical Drinker

***

Escape Velocity: “A Consummation Devoutly to be Wished”

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Author’s Note July 11, 2021: This was a stream of consciousness from 2014, and being such, I will not edit it (overmuch). Here it is, in all of its naked, unpolished bullshit rawness.

“Uh, Mister God… Could you slow the world down just for a moment? I wanna get off. Thanks.”

–Lance

***

Now there 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.
“Escape Velocity”


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 the 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 won’t like me)
The worst thing one (amongst the uninitiated) can say, proclaim:
“Are you still playin’ that damn stupid video game?!!”
Perfect retort:
“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 did have a point, but MY ‘point’ swerved into something else, which I really do not wanna talk about.

But I will.
My point it thus: Kids that played computer games in the Eighties are now in charge of our world.
And to loosely quote Forrest Gump:
“That is all I am gonna say about that.”

Some thoughts?

And P.S., Yes! I have, recently, been spending some quality time with some of my computer games. They know me there, and I don’t have to get too creative (actually, I do, but most…) Well, I don’t have to watch my language at least.

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…

mañana,

I Promise.

“For Love or Money”

And yeah! In case you missed my ‘subliminal’ bullshit: (The Joni song) I still miss 

Shonnie

Shonnie The Biker’s Wife: Intermission

***

Tuesday Ed. Note: This Post Makes Absolutely NO SENSE

Hahahahaha

“I dreamt a dream tonight” Of Queen Mab, or “Whatever Your Will, Will”

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“Oh Good God! Lance is posting yet more ‘driveling-snivelings’ about writers, writing, and his writing travails! He wears me out!”

“Well, you may thank Mister Ohh over at His Place for prompting me to resurrect this long since dead post on the subject. Have a pleasant journey and be sure to give him my best regards while you are there. Ohh! (See what I just did there?) Oh btw, the password is “Mo’ Sent me.” ‘Mo, being shorthand for ‘Moron.’ Gawd! I crack me up! Ha. Ha. Ha.

*New* Falling In Love With Love Is Stupid!!

The Angry Mab

Credit: deviantart.com

“I dreamt a dream tonight.”

“And so did I.”

“Well, what was yours?”

“That dreamer’s often lie.”

“…In bed asleep while they do dream things true!”

“Oh! Then I see Queen Mab hath been with you!”

–R&M: Romeo and Mercutio

***

“Peace, Good Mercutio. Peace. Thou talks of nothing. Thou talkst of nothing.”

“True. True. I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain. Begot of nothing but  vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air and more inconstant than the wind who woes even now the frozen bosom of the north, and being angered puffs away from thence, turning his side to the dew-dropping south.”

Thou Talkst of Nothing

***

After a night of hard blogging and writing of drafts, and becoming somewhat disillusioned and more than daft, I perished toward my bed, reaching out for the Arms of Morpheus.

Within moments I slipped into that Hypnagogic Sleep, that strange place between two worlds, that semi-conscious state of being, yet not being,

“Illumined Pleasure”

Salvador Dali 1928

Sleep, but Not Sleep.

Then I began to dream things that should have been true.

But were not true

Yet so true.

Wonderful words words words!

Words to sate my unnourished prose.

Words swirl’d about in my mind like so many fireflies on a summer’s eve:

“Words, words, words!. Once, I had the gift. I could make love out of words as a potter makes cups of clay. Love that overthrows empires. Love that binds two hearts together, come hellfire & brimstone.”

— “Will Shakespeare in Love”

I had it (them, those) words… goin’ on.

Brilliant words. Beautiful, poignant words! All right there!

Right there In My Mind

Hovering, floating just above the surface

I reached out my finger to tap the “Publish Mouse”

My finger was frozen

It would not move

How hard I did try!

It would not comply!

I lay there in Nether Sleep,

Commanding!

Demanding!

The hand, one digit, just the finger!

Just move the damn finger!

Would not

Could not

Then I realized

“I am with Dante now”

And he mocked me

“Here are the words you seek”

***

But I Did Not want to be with Dante.

I wanted to be with my Lost Muse.

Y’all remember her:

The Abusive One.

The Abusive Muse

“Hey! Lance Needs Help! He’s Goin’ Down for the Third Time!” or, “Does This Font Make My Blog Look Fat?”

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“Just toss him a beer and that ‘Mae West Vest’. He’ll be fine.”

“But Sir, he quit drinking months ago.”

“Well Christ! That’s probably most of his problem right there. Ok, fish him aboard. I’ll have some ‘chat’ with him; get to the nature of his ‘Urgent Urgency’.”

I’m not drownin’.

Just Flounderin’.

***       

But toss me That Mae any-wayyy.

You may keep the beer.

Just asking advice / feedback from

‘The Community’

‘My Community’

‘Our Community’

The ‘Blogging / Writing Community.’

The ‘La Cosa Nostra’ of our ‘Unique Community’

Wonderful World of Worthy Writers!

“Uh, Lance?”

“Yes?”

“Is there something, anything, anything at all you are about to actually ask us?”

“Uh, yeah, Yeah. Sorry, got carried away by the current there for a sec.”

“Go on.”

“In truth, it’s just a simple question. Not really much to it at all in fact. But, in my recent writings… not so much the ‘writings’ per se, not sure I’d ever call some of them ‘writing’. It’s more about well, kinda embarrassing to ask, but you see, when constructing… or is it ‘destructing’… or perhaps re-constructing the previously de-constructed or de-constructing the previously con-structed, or just possibly…”

“As Brevity is the Soul of Wit, I shall be Brief”

“More Matter With Less Art“

“Enough! Good God Man! Get To-The-Bloody-Point!”

“Alright already! Sheesh!  My query is thus…”

“Is the font I’ve been using too large? Do you think my readers find it obnoxious? Obtrusive? Even abusive to the eye? Self aggrandizing even? I use it ‘cause I can’t see for shit these days and…”

“Yeah, Yeah! We get your point. Finally! We’ll take your request under sober consideration and get back to you presently.”

“Next!”

“I just want to express my deepest, humblest, sincerest thank you for what…”

“Are you still Here Marcom? You have been summarily dismissed! You will hear from us presently. Now haul ass!”

“Thank you. Thank you all. Y’all…”

“BE GONE!”

*Lance slowly and deliberately backs out of the room. Softly closing the door behind him*

***

‘Verbosity’ is the Soul of My (and Sponge Bob’s) Wit

Well, I’d like to think so…

Spongebob Theme But Overly Verbose

Street Cred for Vid: Gigaflare8822

***

Author’s Note:

(At the end this time)

Of late I have been committing The First & Worst Deadly Sin:

‘Burying The Lede’

This unhappy behaviour must cease and desist immediately.

***

Here is the ‘Note’ Placed in its Proper Place:

I am taking a ‘brief’ break from re-writing ‘Shonnie.’

Bringing her back into me, back into my life, reliving her, re-falling-in-love-with-her, horribly missing her…

And as much excitement and joy as I may expierence in the re-riding of that emotional roller-coaster enterprise, bringing her back has, of late, become too emotionally painful for me.

I just need a break.

So I am taking one.

Maybe.

Shonnie is exhausting.

Yet exhilarating to remember.

She wore me out once.

Now she is doing it all-over-again…

“Way to go Shonnie. Wish you could see me now. You would, no doubt, laugh your little darling ass off.”

***

Shonnie: Just Some Last Thoughts & One “Reminisce”–Important ‘Breaking News’ Re: Shonnie’s ‘Make-Over’

***

Some Added ‘Added Value’ below for all you ‘Word Nerds’ out there in Radio Land.

(You’re Welcome)

***

Why is it Spelled “Lede”

The spelling lede is an alteration of lead, a word which, on its own, makes sense; after all, isn’t the main information in a story found in the lead (first) paragraph? And sure enough, for many years lead was the preferred spelling for the introductory section of a news story.

So how did we come to spell it lede?

Although evidence dates the spelling to the 1970s, we didn’t enter lede in our dictionaries until 2008. For much of that time, it was mostly kept under wraps as in-house newsroom jargon.

Once, Al Marlens, the assistant managing editor, told one of the cleaning men to walk up to me and ask to see my lede, “not lead,” a newsie slang for the first sentence of a story.

—Myron S. Waldman, Forgive Us Our Press Passes, 1991

Spelling the word as lede helped copyeditors, typesetters, and others in the business distinguish it from its homograph lead (pronounced \led\ ), which also happened to refer to the thin strip of metal separating lines of type (as in a Linotype machine). Since both uses were likely to come up frequently in a newspaper office, there was a benefit to spelling the two words distinctly.

William Safire, who knew a thing or two about newsrooms, wrote in his New York Times “On Language” column in 1990, “Wouldn’t it be easier if the noun for the metal were spelled the way it sounded (led, to rhyme with dead) and the noun for the beginning of a newspaper story were spelled the way it is pronounced (lede, or leed, to rhyme with deed)?”

Others have been less than willing to embrace the new spelling. At The Awl, founder Choire Sicha tore out at those who use lede like it’s an affectation:

You schmucks who use ridiculous journo-terms make me crazy! Finally, someone is willing to speak out against the use of “lede” in public. Because, ha ha, sucka, there’s no reason for it! (Plus, MOST OF YOU ARE JUST BLOGGERS.)

—Choire Sicha, The Awl, 19 Sept. 2011

That “someone” was Howard Owens, a writer who has speculated that the flourishing of lede in the 1970s is ironic given that Linotype machines were starting to be phased out from newsrooms around that time. Owens attributes the fondness for the spelling to nostalgia, calling it “an invention of linotype romanticists, not something used in newsrooms of the linotype era.”

Despite the acknowledgment of lede by Safire and others, and its subsequent use by journalists and non-journalists alike, phrases employing the traditional spelling of lead still find their way into print:

But because I didn’t want Marshall’s piece to get lost in a big evening, I’ve buried the lead: The New Music Group was followed by a late-night appearance of wild Up, with Christopher Rountree conducting his increasingly impressive young ensemble in three more premieres

Mark Swed, Los Angeles Times, 2 Oct. 2016

Needless to say, don’t want to bury the lead, but I think there could be a second day of down for Apple (AAPL) — said so myself in a video I did with Jack Mohr (see above) — but if you don’t own any, by all means don’t let me stop you from buying some.

Jim Cramer, TheStreet.com, 26 Oct. 2016

This is sure to become one of those longstanding usage debates that will have its hard-liners on both sides, and perhaps reveal a little bit about the writer’s familiarity with the news business.

Credit:

https://www.merriam-webster.com/words-at-play/bury-the-lede-versus-lead

Shonnie: Just Some Last Thoughts & One “Reminisce”–Important ‘Breaking News’ Re: Shonnie’s ‘Make-Over’

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Let’s Get This Out of the Way First:

“SPOILER ALERT!”

Do NOT Read Unless You are Already Familiar With The Story from Reading the Original Series.

Skip Ahead to Here:

Shonnie: The Biker’s Wife

Author’s Note:

Some of Y’all Faithful Readers… (That is Not Sarcasm. I sincerely appreciate all Y’all who read me and have ‘Read’ me over the years, and tears, and beers)

…some of Y’all have probably noticed I have been re-visiting old work and endeavoring to ‘re-work’ same.

I am doing this because a few of the old posts still have value and meaning for me and hopefully for you as well.

Most do not, but there are a handful that do.

“Shonnie”, being one of them.

“Are you going ‘somewhere’ with this Lance?”

“Yes. I just wish to inform Y’all that my ‘Current Mission’ is to re-write the entire Shonnie Series. Chapter One is Done. Now only Thirteen to go!”

Someone once told me, “Lance, your ‘Shonnie’ is probably the only ‘real’ writing you have ever done. Most of your other shit is just that: ‘Shit.’ Granted, some of it is entertaining shit, but ‘shit’ it remains. ‘Shonnie’ is the only one that will ever have even a snowflake’s chance in Hell of getting published. Provided you allow a good editor to slice and dice it.”

“Uh… Nice ‘talkin’ to ya. Thanks.”

****

I killed this Series a few years ago.

Pretty Certain Alcohol was involved.

Anyway, I brought it back, (With the help of Word Press—Thank you WP) if for nothing else, my own edification.

And every word I wrote, everything I recounted, actually happened as written.

(And of course, it was resurrected because I love Sheryl Crow. And of course, as a vain writer, I just cannot cotton to killing my own words, once dragged out of my mind and put down. Hahahaha! Writers! Y’all know what I mean.)

Wonderful World of Worthy Writers!

 Please Bare er, ‘bear’…  with me on this one Y’all.

Time always makes things (memories) better. This is how I cope. As for me and Shonnie, memories are multiplied, ‘super-sized’, if you will.

The words I wrote of our relationship are all too true. I do hope she never reads those words, as neither she nor I are strong enough to re-live those heady days. This is how life is and I suppose how it should be.

One is young twice, but old only once. ‘Once a Man and Twice a Child’.

And youth makes one do stupid shit based upon that ‘youth’, and then, if lucky, one has a chance for redemption later in life while old and hopefully ‘wise,’ and before that ‘Second Childhood’ kicks in, making one fairly useless, even if still lovable.

(Not religious redemption: human redemption) I do not apologize for my youthful indiscretions. They belong to me alone and I will carry them alone. 

If anyone has it in their head after reading my story of Lance and Shonnie, that I did not truly love her, that I allowed her to set me free for my own self-preservation, that I did not want to fight for her, then you may want to go back and read between the lines a bit.

And with that ‘mini-rant’ spotlight shined into my soul, I leave you with this idealized and fantasized version of what Shonnie meant to me.

(Ms Shonnie’s part played and well-acted by Sheryl Crow.) Yet as good as Sheryl is, she could never be as good to, nor for me, as was Shonnie.

Ever.

(But, I’d grant her an audition, none-the-less)

It shames me now to admit this but I was, back then, not strong enough to be Shonnie’s man.

And, even now, today, I probably still am not.

If you are new here and confused, here is the beginning of this little saga: 

Shonnie, The Biker’s Wife

 Go there with my Blessing

And my Sympathy

Cheers! Y’all!

Below You Will Find Most Of The Original Posts. Once / If You Arrive At Thirteen There Are Links To The Final Few Chapters. Please keep in mind however, that each and every one of them is in the process of being rewritten: first to last. This will probably take at least two or three weeks.

UPDATE: The Shonnie Reconstruction Project is Completed.

Please read the new versions.

They are all still truth. Truth expanded. More detail, yada yada yada…

I deleted the links to the original versions.

The links seem to have been confusing.

The new ones are all easily accessible.

Wonderful World of Worthy Writers!

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We are, each of us, all of us, complicated, worthy people, full of brightly brilliant ideas, passionate passions, boundless potentials and infinite possibilities.

We are “Writers,” which makes us just a little bit different, special, and weird.

(In a very good way)

We each have our own personal foibles, strengths, weaknesses, levels of humanity, quirks, degrees of sanity, degrees of insanity, levels of intelligence, variances of meanness, variances of kindness, oscillating magnitudes of mood, cascades of creativity, brilliance of brevities, vacillating verbosities, and on and on…

In short we are all individuals possessing something unique that only each unique one amongst us can share.

And THAT, My Dear “Special Writer-Friends” is what makes this vocation so Magical.

And so very fulfilling and so very rewarding.

***

Ninety-Nine Percent of my Writing is Autobiographical.

And I know from visiting the Blogs, that most of my Fellow Writers, at the very least, Write a good deal of same.

For me, I find it healthy and cathartic.

Your mileage may vary.

But remember Socrates’ renowned statement,

“The unexamined life is not worth living.”

Content Credit: “School of Life”

***

Some of us have our own personal agendas.

Some of us do not.

Yet, We, each and every one of us, is worthy: Agenda Full, or Agenda Empty.

Honestly, I am fresh out (of agendas) currently, but I am shopping for one to rent.

***

Upon ‘Sober’ Reflection…

(Yes! I have Quit for Good, The Drinking–Having Chosen Life Over Death Because I still have years and years and years worth of shit I want, need, to write and to share.)

Yes! Upon sober reflection, I realize I DO have an agenda after all: My ‘agenda’, modest as it may appear, is to spread a little joy and deliver a bit of enrichment into the people’s lives who honor me by investing some of that most valuable, finite commodity we ALL share:

“Time”

I work very diligently not to waste even one single moment of yours, because there is no such thing as a ‘Money-Back-Time-Guarantee’.

“Love It, Or We’ll Refund All Your Time Spent. With Interest. No Questions Asked! Guaranteed!”

Sorry. Don’t work that way.

Some of us are Brilliant, Talented Writers.

Some us are just getting started and may need advice from time to time. Just ask; you will most likely get an inbox overflowing full.

“So, You Want To Be A Writer?”

Street Cred for Vid: Shea, Et al.

***

Some of us are polished, published, poets, prose-writers, playwright professionals, some of us are copywriters, some of us are even journalists, some of us are a combination of a few or of them all.

Some of us have genetic talent.

Some of us must work harder at it.

Most of us suffer Writer’s Block from time to time:

Content Credit: “Ivan Kander”

***

But the fact that we are all here, grinding out word after word,

Proves our worth and our respect for our craft.

And the Fact that you are reading these words right now proves you have respect for your fellow writers in Our Wonderful Writer’s Community

I think what my ‘message’ is trying (and most likely failing) to eloquently say… is that I love the writers in my fellow writer community.

We all have worth.

(Well except for that worthless schmuck who don’t like Lenny Bruce… and Y’all know I am even just kidding on that.)

“Thank You Mask Man”

Video Share Credit: ThankYouMaskedMan1

Kinda

Not Really!

Never kid About Comedy; Comedy is Serious Business!

Never Joke About Lenny; Lenny is Serious Business!

And if Y’all Think I’m a Serious Person, and not joking, I am gonna purchase you a one-way ticket to ‘The Re-Education, Never-Take-Lance-Too-Seriously Gulag Facility’, recently re-modeled and up-graded–it has running water now.

And Gulag Goulash Every Saturday Night.

–Lance, Your Humble & Worthy Servant, Who Loves, and Respects, All of ‘Y’alls’.

*****

Bonus ‘Added Value’

Shakespeare & Marlowe:

Credit: Miramax