All My Words Come Main-Lined– Straight Out of My Heart–No Varmint Varnish Ever Applied Here.
I Caint Write Fiction–
No Talent for it.
Pity Party Anyone?
Free Booze & Snooze!
Snooze on the Nasty Couch Azzhole!
Sheryl! I Am In Perpetual Love With You!
Especially When I Discover Me Throwin’ Punches In The Air
I Fucked Up!
Just Some Last Thoughts & One
Important ‘Breaking News’ Re: Shonnie’s ‘Make-Over'”
Let’s Get This Out of the Way First:
Do NOT Read Unless You are Already Familiar With The Story from Reading the Original Series.
Skip Ahead to Here:
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, But 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.)
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.
(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.
(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.
Would that I could be granted a second chance
And, even now, today, I probably still am not.
But, However, Comma,,, I Have ALWAYS Made The Rules Up As I Go…
Better That Way…
If you are new here and confused, here is the beginning of this little saga:
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… and yada
I deleted the links to the original versions.
The links seem to have been confusing.
The new ones are all easily accessible.
Bonus On Us–The Management:
I Shall Believe:
Not So ‘Fun Fact: I Once Had A Pen-Pal, GF… I Loved Her Much, But, Me, Being Me,
I somehow Managed To Mangle and Destroy Our Relationship–
I Sent Her This Song.
After She Had Dumped Me & Cast Me To The Curb
She Was NOT Amused.
As I Kinda Recall, Her Moniker was ‘Bella-Bama’ or ‘Bama-Bella–
Are you that fuckin’ Naive? (Yeah! I gots me SOME Fuck’ng “Anger Issues” Right About now! Don’t Even Ask Me How—Trust me! Y’all doan wanna know!) I’ll probably return to some semblace place of “Normal” once I sleep it off. But I hope NOT! Oh God! I Hope NOT! I am ‘lovin’ My inner-bitch self! I love HIM. Even If no one else Can-can!
I have four ex-wives for ref, if you don’t believe me!
Oh Man! Only God
(Yours, not mine)
Knows! But that is betwix me and she/him!
Fuk this whurl!
Stop this Fucking train!
Some asshole lied about the destination!
I Thought I was going to Vegas! And I ended up RIGHT back in this shit = HOLE of my life! I fuckin’ ‘paid’ money for this? You’ve got to be kidding me! Please wake me the fuck up! This nightmare is startin’ to SUCK! Major SUCK-AGE! i suppose it is all about ‘age’, ain’t it? Curmudgeon Function Junction!
Is Just a Fuckin’ Shot
Away! gO The FuCk aaway fRO
FUCKIN’ SYMPATICO SIMPLISTIC
(And Here is YET ANOTHER Vid That WordPress Managed to FUCK up!–
The Rolling Stones – Gimme Shelter (Official Lyric Video)
You are cordially invited to
KISS MY ASS!
MOTHERFUCK YOU WORDPRESS!!!!!
SEE THE COMMENTS SECTION TO SEE HOW I AM ABOUT TO GO FUCKIN’ POSTAL ON SOME WP ASSHOLE—FIRST ONE I CAN FIND! I DON’T GIVE A SHIT IF I MUST FLY TO MUMBAI! I AM PERSONALLY GOING TO PUT A ROUND INTO THE HEAD OF THE FIRST WORDPRESS MOTHER-FUCKER I DISCOVER!!!
Right Between The FUCKIN’ Eyes!
A Represenative of ‘Commerce’ Finest showed up at Mi Casa.
Said he had to take me
(For ‘Internet Threats!’ I had made)
Can Y’all say
I knew you could!
Guess Commerce PD are fans of my blog!
Asshole put his hands on me!
I asked him if there were not more important things he could find to do with his fucking hands.
Then he pointed his revolver at at me,
I went along quietly
(I may be stupidly insane, but I ain’t sucicidal)
And I harbor NO ‘Sucicidaal’
‘Fucking Death-By-Cop Vain Fanasy!”
And I KNOW HOW TO
MY FUCKING TIME’in!
Revenge is a dish
When Served Up Cold-Up-And Bleedin’
Its ASS Off!!
But You Can’t See Me!
I can Make Myself FUCKIN’ Invisible!
Then I will Come for Your Son Late in The Night!
JUST LIKE THAT FUCKIN’ NIGHTMARE YOU USED TO HAVE WHEN YOU WERE STILL SUCKIN’ ON YER MOMMY’S TIT!
YOU FUCKIN’ WELL
OH! I’M SORRY!
HOW FUCKIN’ STUPID YOU ARE!
And You Won’t Even Know What Just Happened.
You Will Probably Just Call it an
“Act of God!”
And I’ll laugh
As I Feed Your Son To My Pet
“Where-the-Fuck We’re You Daddy???”
THE REGRET WILL BE ALL ON YOU!
Speaking of Cynthia.
recent Fucking Post!
As I said,
I asked her,
“Any Mother-Fuckers have a problem with me as a neiebor?
She said, and I quote,
“Only that Mother-Fucker next door who complained about yer loud music.
“Oh! You mean that Mother-Fucker who hit me up for free beer at least trice a week?”
“Yeah! That Mother-Fucker!”
“I shoulda kicked his ass long ago!”
“Yes, You shoulda”
“t’s on my bucket list,” I said back.
Then she kissed me.
The asshole coulda just knocked on my fuckin’ door and asked me to turn my fuckin’ music the fuck down.”
“I know, Lots of crazy peeps live here,
“Yeah! I am one of the inmatetes, Peeps should not try my good nature.
“I know, but I love you so!”
“I know, but I love you more!”
(I really wanna bed her! But that would
There are some Things
To FUCK WITH! (My ‘Track-Record’ with All The women I Have Loved and Fucked-Over is painflly well – fuckin; docum- demionated …. Dementiaon ‘ated! on theses pages)
Oh FUCK All of This!!!!
I’m an Asshole!!!!
At Least I Admit it!
Unlike most of
I worked for a Texas Rancher
And I fucked his Daughter
One day he drew me aside
After I had wrecked his best tractor!
And I fuckin’ Quote!
“Son, You could ter’ up an anvil with a rubber mallet”
He was spot-on with that!
I was compelled to admit.
Footnote Story I love to tell on myself:
He (My GF’s Daddy) and MY Daddy were rummaging/fuckin about one day
I have no fucking clue.
But the fuck they were
Looking for fuck do I know,
Whatever the fuck they were looking for, they did not find!
Guess what they did find though!
A half-empty box of condoms!
Maddy told of this later.
That was the first time in my life I experienced a real fear of death
I was twice dead!
One by the daddy of my girl
Two by the killing and ass beatin’ I was about to receive from
Not to mention the maniacal laughter I was gonna suffer to endure from that bitch on wheels step-mother of mine!
The ONLY Comfort I got was from My Belov’d Madelyn
And if you don’t know who the fuck she is you must be fucking ‘new’ here!
This is a “HOT MESS” collection of some recent, decent and some not-so-recent, not so decent, not so ‘normal’ comments and added value ‘vomit comments’and some other weird shit that spills from my mind from time to time, thus making me feel fine.
Go ahead: Try to Diagramthat Sentence.
I’m Sorry in Advance.
Le Space Race flashback—if you do not know of the ‘Vomit Comet” I’ll help you out
OK Go – Upside Down & Inside Out
Licensed to YouTube byLatinAutor – PeerMusic, LatinAutorPerf, ARESA, Abramus Digital, CMRRA, BMG Rights Management (US), LLC, and 8 Music Rights Societies
(NOT Licensed to One Lance A. Marcom–“I pays my money; I takes my Chances–Just how I roll.”)
“Where you goin’?”
“I isn’t goin’ anywhere.”
“Can I go with you?”
–Bro Dave Gardner
Some dude, [emerging from bedroom half-dressed] yawing and scratching his butt, “So, what’s for breakfast?”
Elizabeth Perkins, “Egg McMuffin, corner of Broadway and Belmont.”
–from ‘About Last Night.’
Dear Your-Name-Escapes Me,
When I choose to waste my time, I prefer to do it on some guilty pleasure.
Something talking to you is not.
I thought I had dismissed you yesterday.
Apparently reading and comprehending is not your strong suit.
Let’s review, shall we?
You are tediously boring Kid.
Why don’t you go outside and play?
On such a lovely day.
Or maybe find something better to say.
Or start a one-man-band.
Your kind: ten-a-penny here in Radio Land.
We’ve been here before…
A poet of such piercing eloquence
But covered with misguided arrogance
He throws out the meats
Then shits where he eats
Oops! There goes the inheritance!
“Fear?” No fear.
“Biggest mistake?” Deluding myself into thinking English was my ‘First Language.’
‘Texican’ is my first language.
I’d do well to remember that.
“Southpark will depress you, repress you, digress you, ingest you, digest you, and shit you out (if you allow it). Writing saved me from insanity there.”
–‘Letter from a Southpark Jail’ (Afghanistan, 2012)
Dear Fortunato Musico,
Did you enjoy reading my comment? Insulting, was it not? Would you read an entire story written in such a fashion?
When you are so lazy that you completely ignore proper grammar (and spelling, and punctuation), you insult the intelligence of your reader at best and you show a complete disrespect for yourself as a writer at worse. In short, you fucking lose both ways.
“Us, you people, knows grammar be important to write because of if us people are be writer, to be take serious, us knows us had to serious used prospered grammar. It was crucial to we as to be good at you craft.”
If you want to fuck-up The Queen’s English for writing effect, that there above is how you do it.
Rangoli / cannoli
Linguini / martini
Houdini / Fellini
Pacino / Tarantino
Let’s call the whole thing off
Ima just jerkin’ yo chain Bro. Tit for Tat. You da quintessential chain-jerker, yo!
OK. I’m confused.
Did the man you spoke to say “That is how you get held back in kindergarten?”
Or was that part of your commentary?
Punctuation. Use (or not use) of quotations
Be kind to your readers.
We don’t deserve it though. We should be able to just ‘know,’ no?
New Dance Craze??
“Well, allow me to retort.”
“Diwali is called the Festival of Lights and is celebrated to honor Rama-chandra, the seventh avatar (incarnation of the god Vishnu). It is believed that on this day Rama returned to his people after 14 years of exile during which he fought and won a battle against the demons and the demon king, Ravana.”
Ain’t got no internet…
Hell! I’d do it for one billion.
(Yeah, I’m a cheap date)
Quoth the raven
(That black whore)
“How to get to Elsinore?”
“Elsinore, you ask?”
“Yes, Elsinore, which way?
In Elsinore I’ll stay.
“And with Lenore, I’ll have my way.”
“Say ‘Elsinore’ one more Goddamn time!
“I dare ya; I double-dare ya!”
“I feel like a black crow flying…
“On a blue, blue sky.”
Vid Share Cred: MysticPieces
(Sorry Edgar. Sorry Joni)
My condolences for your dear departed free-thinking mind as you are led, sheep-like, to the slaughter.
But of course, “Things will be much better in the Celestial North Korea,” that is Heaven, eh?
Fair winds and following seas to you Friend.
Why go to all the trouble to create a meme and not even proof read it before subjecting the entire FB world to an inferior product?
“The Cowards Never Started and the Weak Died Along the Way” –Old SEAL sayin’—jus’ sayin’.
Don’t know much about History…
Don’t know much geology…
Don’t know much about the French I took…
Don’t know what a slide rule is for…
But I do know English.
Angle: “a figure formed by two lines diverging from a common point or two planes diverging from a common line.”
Angel: “in some religions, a divine being who acts as a messenger of God”
Your meme is a crime against, not only logic, but English as well.
Unless of course you still are trying to say the “The Devil is Not in the details.”
If so, then one-thousand apologies.
Yeah Alex, I’m down with this.
By the way,
What color is your parachute?
Thank you Elizabeth
You have saved me from spilling more virtual ink and killing more virtual trees and wasting more virtual paper on this thread.
In other words, ‘I could not have said it better, nor agree more.’
Welcome to Writer’s Fight Club
Where the men are mostly men
And the women
Never nurture (nor suffer) fools.
Cheers and good luck.
You’re gonna need a bigger boat, by way of a first post.
Just a suggestion
Hope that helps your ‘writing.’
Are you aiming at ‘cute’ here,
Or just showcasing your stupidity?
If the former, well, FAIL!
If the latter, Congratulations!
“Any plans for tonight?
TEXAN TALES & HIEROGLYPHICS: A Memoir
Nap time, that feared time, that dreaded time, that hated time.
Everything recounted above actually happened, in one form or another; me no Alamo.
“Call me Ishmael.”
“That was a whale of a ride, was it not?”
Thank you very much for spending time on my piece.
Just home from work and of course was anxious to dive in and read your critique. You have provided excellent suggestions and have asked excellent questions. “Pregnant” golf ball. Yeah, whatever was I ‘thinking?’
Haha (Just plain old ‘golf ball’ will certainly suffice here, eh?)
There are many other fine examples in your comments showing how I might improve this selection. No need to recount them here, as you wrote them.
I will copy and paste all your comments into my draft, in order to more easily work through them.
Again, your time and efforts on my behalf are much appreciated.
“Ah Mortisha, I love it when you speak ‘atheist.’”
“I’ve learned more from this group in the past 2 months than all the rest of my life.”
Now now Kelly. That’s a bit of a stretch, doan’cha think? Heheheh. Love you, you Manson Girl, you.
“It’s like sprinkling shit with the word “God” and that’s how you get holy shit.”
I am soooo gonna steal this…
“Allahu akbar!” BOOM!!!
(May often be heard in Shit-holesParadises like Iraq)
Even if just to say, “Hey! This sucks!” or “Hey! This rocks!” or “Hey! Don’t quit your day job!”
“I know your monkey”
Would be a great title for… something.
Loved this John. Outstanding piece.
(You wouldn’t happen to have been influenced any by
“Joe Cartoon,” by any chance?)
I didn’t notice that at first (Mary Beth’s observation about the distance to the gas station—was it a gas station?).
I do understand leaving the lights on, however. I have seen people do this before, if the venue was not particularly well-lit. Although, now-a-days, I’d suspect it might be difficult to find a dimly lit gas station.
Sorry, got caught up in all that…
The ‘hook’ worked for me (probably why I didn’t notice the gas-station walk)
Overall, I think it’s tight and flows well and I would definitely keep reading.
Hope this helped.
“Fear kept Wendy Smith from staying in the rusted Sedan.
The compact car smelt of stale beer and cigarettes, but it had been her ticket to freedom. She needed to get gas. She left the headlights on, grabbed her rugged back pack and opened the car door with a trembling hand.
…When their heads were bent down, she turned and ran as fast as she could.”
The lament of every writing generation,
And maybe this one does, but I hope not. For I am a cockeyed optimist, à la Mitzi Gaynor…
There are still great writers; always will be.
What is distressing, however, is we are the first generation with tools available unimaginable.
And how do most use them?
Fuck me and hand me a quill and ink pot.
Some of your best writing Alex/Marie. Kept me locked up inside.
My opinion does not match Dave K’s.
It all works (for me)
‘Cept this below:
“They must have knew their prince was missing by now.”
“must have KNOWN’ (Just typo…)
My first day in typing class in Honey Grove High, the old Broad K. Trout began our introductory lesson with an exercise:
“Class, two fingers and one thumb and it goes like this:
‘F space J space F space J space… Keep doing that until I get tired.”
And if I’m honest, I thank her. Learning to touch-type is the only thing I took from HS that was worth a shit.
So… I Thank You Kathy T!
Last thoughts; then I’m off the air on this.
(If you’re lucky)
I am not an apologist for LBJ.
Honestly do not care how many ways y’all want to spin your history.
I have not the energy, inclination, nor desire to try to change your mind.
And I have far better things to do than become a caretaker of dead presidents or of their memories.
Unless of course, their visage is printed on some paper I am fortunate enough to be carrying around on my person.
I am not interested in taking part in a trolling war on this subject.
Y’all have expressed your opinions; I have expressed mine.
In parting, I will just add this to that:
It is disheartening to see so many who obviously have not taken time to actually learn anything in detail of the life of Lyndon Johnson or of the good he actually accomplished, jump on some lazy SJW bandwagon and ride it for likes to their comments.
Yes, Viet Nam was horrible, but that was not all that happened during the years, 1963-68.
Well, it’s massive.
Three ‘massive(s)’ in the first paragraph
Four additional ‘massive(s)’ and one bonus ‘massively’ sprinkled in the rest.
You can do better.
“A wee bit over 2000 words.” (Try 2592)
Ok, so arithmetic ain’t your thing; not mine either.
But, honestly, it’s a hot mess. There is NO HOOK at all, just mind-numbing exposition.
Why should I care about Admiral Sarah M. Visherly? Other than the fact she wears leather black gloves, carries a dress dagger and a concealed gun? Or because:
“She… flashed her considerable teeth in a warning snarl.”
Write it up as a ‘wee bit over 500 words’ piece.
Give us some dialog. Make us interested in Sarah.
Then leave us wanting more.
Save all the ‘massive’ detail for later.
It’s not all bad. I did slog through as much as I could.
There is some potential here, I think.
Unleash Sarah and let her show us.
I listened right now, since it’s night.
Shared it to my timeline.
“For twenty-five cents more…”
–Lenny Bruce (“Hubert’s Museum”)
Thanks so much for reading and taking the time to give feedback. Adverbs are surely my nemesis. Thought I had cast most of them out of this piece (Yes! There were more, believe it or not), but you’re correct. Further ruthless editing is in order.
I think my problem can best be stated by Gertrude chastising Polonius,
“More matter with less art.”
Your critique is appreciated as is your time. As for MWTD, I think I was trying for cute there. I’m still schlepping about a lot of my ‘hobbyist writer’ baggage, trying desperately to become more ‘professional.’ If I do keep the “Massive Weps,” they probably should be downgraded to lower case at the very least…
And certainly, I love that you love my (developing) style; coming from another writer that means so much.
Cheers, and thank you again,
*For Barney* (RIP, My Old, Old, Old, Friend)
May be offensive to people of faith:
Barney’s not buyin’ The bullshit they’re tryin’ Space rock was his ending Not God’s will unbending
They say the Big Bang Just weren’t a thang They ‘know’ evolution’s Not their solution
Yet science creates Kids who think straight It don’t take no sleuth To find the true truth
Religion is pending A major upending Then faster than light All Religion is shite
I don’t have any kids (that I know of), but the idea of dealing with eight kids and nine grandkidsscares the shit outta me. I never could relate to kids, even when I was one.
I actually wrote a bit about my pet cougar, “Charley The Cougar,”
But, I dare not post it here.
OK, screw it!
I post it!
Dragons and cougars…
Oil and water.
You say imbuing
I say imbibing
You say black cat
I say who dat?
You say screeching
I say that’s reaching
Let’s call the whole thing off.
Hey, I posted an apropos
Fighters an’ Writers
Righters an’ Smiters
Takin’ all my time
Spendin’ all my dime
Sometimes even writin’ here
Okay: I’ll play.
Lemme consult my ‘history’
“Blogging for idiots”
“Tell it; don’t show it”
As an erstwhile distance runner, this post caught my eye (or maybe my foot’s eye?).
I always kept a runner’s log when I was doing my forty or so miles a week, and in addition to the usual mundane, but necessary stats (time of day, weather, locale, distance/time run, etc.) I found myself writing longer and longer entries describing the run, my mood, interesting things I saw or experiences I had, people I had notice or notice me, thoughts that invaded my mind, pain, and on and on.
Ran across some of my old logs a few years ago (sadly re-lost to me now) and what wonderful reading they held for me after so many years of almost forgetting that I used to even write such things.
Certainly you are keeping logs as well.
Keep them safe.
You will cherish them mightily some years from now.
This is far and above anything I could write (today), but I’ll get there.
So many wonderful turns of phrase/ wonderful observations.
“…outerwearly Arab, underwearly Western. That’s also the image of the rooster gone crazy. A funny story I read somewhere. A rooster not knowing exactly the time when to start crowing because he happened to find himself in the Eiffel Tower somehow.”
Just fuckin’ wow.
I have a ‘Layla’ in one of my memoir stories.
I am going to shoot her now, for not living up to the name.
Have you more of this piece?
“Every morning I was dead as a doornail”
When I first read this I read it as “dead as normal”
And went, “Hmmm… I like that”
Then looking closer (yes, I need new glasses), realized I had misread it.
My point: I kind of like my misread version.
Your thoughts Mimi?
Uh, my comment shoulda read, ‘R’Amen.’
As an atheist, I am well-vetted, and my credentials are bona-fide.
BELIEVE that shit!
“SHOUT! SHOUT! LET IT ON OUT…”
Credit: Tears and For Beers Fears (Duh)
“There was compete silence in her mind. No need to escape.”
Maybe: “No thoughts threatened her mind; no need to escape” (?)
Just a thought. (no pun)
I like it overall.
If I ‘Learned’ from all my myriad mistakes made, the hard-disk-drive that is my ‘mind’ would first become fragmented, then full, and then just explode.
So where would that leave me?
It would leave me with just-one-more-mess to clean up
(Uh… I think I have recently written about ‘messes.’)
“Should I go for it?”
That one is near to the top of my page. It is the post with the dog falling over in bed.
Yuk, Yuk, Yuk! (I love to laugh at Lance. It is cathartic)
Sometimes merely ‘surviving’ is enough.
Thanks for sharing the quote.
“But here lies the difference between low-vibing fake ones and high-vibing someone.”
Great line (and meaning)!!
I may be ‘compelled’ to steal it for a future post of my own.
(I will, of course, credit you. I may be a thief, but I am an honest one—does that make sense?)
Great post Angry Bird.
Very well-written and thought provoking.
To add my ‘two cents’… well two cents which I stole from someone else, namely this guy: some old dude from several years ago,
“And if I say that the greatest good of a man is daily to converse about virtue, and all that concerning which you hear me examining myself and others, and that the life which is unexamined is not worth living—that you are still less likely to believe” –Socrates
I had a similar experience with one of my ex-wives, before she became one of my ex-wives (seems I am always in the market for the ‘future ex-mrs-marcom’ And the astute reader will recognize that I just stole that line from ‘Jurassic Park’ –Jeff Goldblum’s character)
Anyway, I was saying…
Oh yeah, my first ex. We were in Tel Aviv (I used to work in the Sinai for the U.S. State Department. You may have read some of ‘those’ posts: Sinai Field Mission.—SFM—Search for them on my blog if you’d like to ‘read more about it.’
Damnit! I am gonna finish writing this ‘comment’ ‘even if it harelips the Pope’.
We were sitting at a sidewalk café on Dizengoff Street and I casually remarked,
“You know Janet, maybe we should get married some day.”
She took that to heart. (Or maybe she ‘heard’ me say “Sunday”)
I wasn’t meaning ‘right now!’
Next day we were married.
(I had a problem back then with the whole concept of ‘Just say no’ when it came to women, and Nancy was still somewhere far off on the event-horizon at the time: 1979…)
If you have come this far, I humbly suggest you find something better to do with your time.
“Just toss him a beer and that ‘Mae West Vest’. He’ll be fine.”
“ButSir, 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’.
But toss me ThatMae any-wayyy.
You may keep the beer.
Just asking advice / feedback from
The ‘Blogging / Writing Community.’
The ‘La Cosa Nostra’ of our ‘Unique Community’
“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.”
“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.”
“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…”
*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
(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.
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.”
Some Added ‘Added Value’ below for all you ‘Word Nerds’ out there in Radio Land.
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.