The Abusive Muse

“Well, What’s the Story?”

“Well, There’s this pirate… In Truth, I Have Not Written a Word.”

Shakespeare in Love | ‘Romeo & Ethel’ (HD) – Joseph Fiennes, Geoffrey Rush | MIRAMAX



“Wake the fuck UP!”

“Who are you?”

“Your Muse.”

“Oh, I thought You That Delirium Tremens Monster.”

“No. He will be around later. Right now you have me.”

“Okay. Something on your mind?”

“Yes. You need to get up and write.”

“I am sleepy.”

“Time enough to sleep when you’re dead.”

“Really? We gonna go there?”

“Get your ass up; plant your ass on that chair. Hit the keyboard. Write!”

“Don’t wanna.”

“’Want’ has nothing, and everything to do with this.”


To Be Continued…. 


Part two here

This Post is all over-some-place- Sorry. Just My Re-Livin’ My UBH Experience(s)

“You Can Take That Mary Poppins UMbrella and Shove it Straight UP U’re Ass. And Then fly all the way home! All Alone.”

Fav Things:

I love Angela Cartwright

Esoteric Ref…. Sorry!

I Just Caint Hep it!

Lost in Her Space!

Her outter space space race!


Whiskers On Kittens


My Gawd! How Much How Much I MISS HER!

UBH Post Continuation Teaser

I Met such wonderful, intelligent folks in re-hab.

All were so intelligent and so eloquent.

No. I’m not talkin’ ’bout the staff; I’m talkin’ ’bout my fellow inmates.


Instant Karma!

“You Better Get Yourself Together;

Pretty soon You’re Gonna Be Ded”

But We ALL Shine On!


I met a young broken woman while at Rehab.

(Hell! We were all ‘broken.’ Otherwise how the fuck did WE ALL END UP IN THIS PLACE??)

Let us call her name, “Kelsey” (Because that was probably her name)

Once while KNEE deep in some dark philosophical discussion she looked me dead in my eye and said,

“You can take that Marry Poppins umbrella and fly the fuck outta town.”

Instant Love and Instant Karma.

“Ethel, (The Cambodian) Pirate’s Daughter” seated next to me was not amused by my most recent love lust and infatuation.

But that is how things ‘work’ while in Rehab. Relationships are fleeting and ten-a-penny and not worth a cup of warm spit once one escapes…


Borrowed Karma

The payback and the interest is a mother-fu#ker.

(Please trust me on this; I know from where I speak)

Now, please, if you please, quietly f*ck the fu%k off.

“The line forms to the right.”

Internal Lance Voice chimes in:

“Who on Earth do you think you are? A Superstar?”

“Well Wrong You Are!”

I Know! I Know! I Know!! I Know I Know I know I KNOW I … I Know I Know I Know I Know I Know I am, Am A Too Fu*king Well-KNOWN Moron.–What of It?

Being Well-Known and Eight Bits Might, Just Might

Get You A Cup Of Coffee.

If You’re Lucky And Have Not Sinned Recently.

Guess That Counts ME Out


Asshole! I KNOw I KnOw I know I’m a Fukking asshole! I am, A fuckkking Asshole! But I AM not f*CkIN’ sTUpId!

“Shoot Low Sir; I Think she’s Riding a Shetland.”

I Know! Hand Me the Rifle, watch this and STFU!

I Know I Know I Know…


Bill Withers – Ain’t No Sunshine

Did Y’all Count the “I Knows?”

I Know I know That I did.

I Counted Twenty-Four–

But then, I’m see’in’ Double

Foreigner – Double Vision:


Yer Mileage May Vary

Cred for Vid: Andres Trevino


Texas ain’t ’bout SHit

She is sublime!

In My Mind!

I Created Her In My Mind-Time

But! Go Ahead!

Spend a dime!

Take some Time

And Go Ahead

Live With Me!


My Vain Fantasy!

Shoot Low Sir; I Think she’s Riding a Shetland.


“Deep In The Heart Of Texas”


I made her

(My Muse)

In My Mind!


I will expand on thIS LAtR


(iF yer Lucky)

This is SEXIST aSK

Ask me hoW maNY Fuks

I Don’t Give!

God Blesse’d Texas!

Fun Fact:

Rhonda and I, My Second or Third,

Lived Less Than Three Mile From

SouthFork “Ranch”,

In Plain’Oh


Our Tailor PARK

Was Called


I am NOT

Making This Up!

U Can Look it Up!

(It is Still There!)

But they No Longer Call Them

“Trailer Parks”

They are Now…

“Mobile-Home Communities

Fuk Me!

I am Just Plain ‘Ol White Trash


Proud of it


You Broke it!

You Fix it!

I don’t C’AAre, Nor gi\ve a fuk!

All the Y’alls


Friday Night Lights:

All the Y’alls from Tami Taylor

Yu Fix This Chocolate Mess!

I don’t Have The Time

WP is Stupid…

It is NOT Even Intuitive!—

This is ‘Tweenty-One

Hav’ Fun!

Cred: Chris Spags Ate all, Y’all

& K.Ryan Jones (I Think)

And, Please Don’t Quote Me

(I Have More Than Enough Illegal Troubles Already)


Lyle, I LOVE IT!”

Watch This GD it

More Bonus OnUS!

I Tried To Tone The Title Down A Mite (Ever Try To Tone Down A Mite?–Exercise in Futility) A Thousand Apologies To Anyone I May Have Inadvertently Offended.

I Just MISS My Sister. Fuck Everything! I do Not Give a Shit FOR Life Without Her in it to Talk To!

Read if you have want. Yeah! I am bitter! Madelyn! Godamn Her! I Did NOT Give Her My Permission To Die!

She Died On Me! She Was Always So Popular! The Phone Rang Off The Wall! The Call Was Always For her! Never For Me! “Lance is an asshole! Talk to Madelyn—She is Nice”—

Bullshit! She was Not Nice To Anyone But Me. In Her Heart. We Knew and Understood “The Game” But We Never Verbalized it; We Did Not Have To”

I miss her so much

I cannot write anymore on this right now.

I’ll get back to it.

My heart is still broken.

Some may ponder



I Love her so much

Here is the reason

For All Seasons

She Always Stood By Me

Through thick and Thin

She was My Athena,




From the World

(Even When I was in Iraq)

She was always there for me

Constant as the Northern Star

Change the name from ‘Richard’ to ‘Madelyn’

Then You May Catch My Drift:

Fuck it!

This was The Joni I wished to share!

So There!

Constantly in the darkness?

Where’s that at?

If you want me, I’ll be in the bar.:

Joni is such a complicated / fascinating brilliant woman,

as was my Madelyn, my sister

My much loved and missed sis

Goddamn I Miss her!


Lance & His B’Loved Sis:

I truly wish I had more pics, but I don’t–my misfortune, not yours.

The Untimely Loss of her… fuck it!

I have said it all before.

But I am sad.

I cannot put it more succinctly than that

I Miss Her

Now You’re Not Here Bitch!

Sit Down, STFU, and Never Leave Me Again!

Back In The Day, (1980’s) When I Was in The U.S. Navy, Going Thru ‘Gunner’s-Mate A-School’ In Chicago, Well, Outskirts of Chicago. I Loved Visiting Chicago… Every Chance I Got: WeekEnds…

Now, I Weep For Chicago (And For My Country)

Street Cred: Paul Joseph Watson

“Escape From Memphis—Chapter Three—Shawn & My Insanity.” And Yet One Mo’ Time… WordDepress’d Has Dun Piss’d Me Righteously The Fuk OFF! Takes No Less Than 3 ‘Edits’ Just To Make One ‘Stick!’

“Operator Error?”

I Don’t Fukkin’ Think So!

I have been suffering The Incompetency of WordPress For Over A Decade Now.

I am Growing Weary!

Young Girls–And This Here Cowboy Do Get Weary

Three Dog Night – Try A Little Tenderness




So they put me on a stretcher and schlepped me out of the Hotel Magnuson.
To Hospital.
Upon my arrival,
Asked me of my ‘complaint.’
“I think I’m dying.”
“OK Sir, relax”
I was so ‘relaxed’ by this point that I wanted to embrace death.
My legs had stopped working, in fact.
They were all so kind.
They did all the usual Hospital Shit:
Made me pee in a bottle.

Cred For This Above: The Critical Drinker (And I Have Tried–Multiple Times–To Move This Line Up-The-Fukkin’ Page to Where It Should Be. But Guess What? WORDPRESS!

And Furthermore, I Have Descended Into “No Fuks Given Territory”


Stuck me with all kinds of pins and needles.
Put me in that torture chamber.
That noisy machine…. What makes you pray to Hey Zeus.
Several hours later, they pronounced me “Good to Go.”
Told me to go home.
“No ride” I said.
One of the EMTs was just getting off shift and said,
“No problem, I will drive you.”
(I have always appreciated the kindness of strangers)
EMT Guy, dropped me at the Magnuson.
Shamefully, Sheep-Like, I staggered back to my room.
Went into some kind of coma-sleep.
Next day.
Called Nine-One-One Once again.
“What now, Marcom?”
Apparently they had my phone ID.
And why not?
“I am dying.” I said.
“Again?” she said.
“Yes, again; send help,” I shot back.
“OK You still at the Magnuson?”
Some many minutes later….
Ambulance arrives.
Same song, different verse:
Arrived back at Commerce Hospital ER
But with a twist.
There was this EMT.
Let us call his name, “Shawn”
Because that is his name.
He was so fucking proud of it that he announced it to me…
Moving on…
Shawn was having none of my antics.
He called me out on my bullshit.
He knew I was drunk.
And I knew I was drunk.

Recipe for disaster and testosterone collision.

We had that semblance of common knowledge going on.
As they were trying to place me back on the bed in the ER, Shawn got up in my face.

“Listen, Asshole….” He broached.

That is all it took.
I got right back up in HIS face:

“Listen, Mother-Fucker! I am sincerely IN PAIN! Do NOT fuck with me!”

He was not impressed.
He got back in my Face and said,

“I give no fucks about your ‘pain.’

We got eyeball to eyeball.
Nose to nose.
Cheek to cheek.
Chest to chest.

Fisticuffs coming.

I suppose at some point, Police were summoned.

Shawn and I, were at that point…
Joined at the hip.
The Po-Lease Arrived.
Managed to surgically separate us.
They took Shawn away.
And put me away.
In the Hospital Bed.
Where I ‘rested.’

The Cops hung around.
I suppose to just make certain I was not gonna kill anyone.

We had some ‘chat.’
They asked me if I was gonna be a ‘problem’ for the Hospital Staff.

I said, “No. Just as long as you keep that asshole Shawn outta my sight.”
One cop said, “Shawn is gone.”
“Fine then,” I said back.
And then we, the cops and me, enjoyed some of my War Stories of Iraq and Afghanistan.
And we had a merry time.


I think, looking back, Shawn and I just had communication deficit.

Next time I found me in the Commerce ER, I told that same very nice EMT that I had regrets about Shawn.
And that I’d like to apologize (I seem to be ‘apologizing’ a lot these days)
He was kind, and said,
“I will tell him; certain he will appreciate the sentiment.”
“Thank You.” I said. “Now fetch me a beer.”

(I guess eyes rolled at this point, but at the very least, I had managed to make him smile inside.)

Added value:

“If You Ain’t Shawn, I’m Gone!”

I sincerely regret That fact.

That I feel this need..

To hit you upon your head.

“If you ain’t Shawn, I’m Gone!”

Writing is fun!

They draw first and then they run.’

While shooting at a girl named of “Nancy’

(She called herself ‘Lil.’ but her name was Ma Gill)

We just called her ‘Nancy”

(This is called ‘foreshadowing’–yeah–it’s a literary term. Ha ha ha!)

“Rocky, you’ve met your match.”

I said, “No Doc; it’s only a scratch!”

“But I’ll get better, I’ll get better,  soon  as I’m able..”


To be continued…

“If you ain’t Shawn, I’m gone.”

More ‘added value.’

“He wants MORE!”

He wants MORE!”

Can relate.
Chapter Five or Ten or Nine coming soon.

Do NOT touch that dial.

Chapter First Found Here:

Chapter Two may be found here:

Chapter six found here: