My First Info-Babe Love: Christiane Amanpour!

She took my “News-Junkie Virginity.”
Then she never looked back.
Never dropped by.
Never mailed a postcard.
Never telephoned.
No Nada!
Bitch!
(Just kidding Christiane)
You know I will always love you best!

Brilliant.
Beautiful.
Charming!

Absolutely Charming!

***

Every time I see her, I fall in love all over again.

(I suppose that’s how it always goes with those…

“First Loves–Lost”)

‘Just Hang on to your Good Memories Cowboy.’

***

Why do I love her so?

We have walked the same dirt.

In Dangerous, Desolate Places.

That is Why.

And She is Braver Than Me.

That is Also Why.

“We Have Heard The Chimes At Midnight.”

She and Me

Me and She

(Just Never Together)

Can You Imagine?

Can You Even Wrap Your Mind Around My Vain Fantasy?

If. Just If!

(I Would Have Become a Very Different Man…)

SueZ, Open Sez-a-me! Canal!

I have been to the Suez Canal at least 300 times.

I’ve been witness to some incredibly funny shit in my day, but never nothin’ even remotely approaching this

Monumental Shipping Screw-UP!

LMFAO!

*******

Because I am a Smart-assed Moron:

Clik the GD Link Below!

No Bare Feet Beyond This Point

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

******

Jet, the oldest at the table–about thirty—wore a goatee, long brown hair on top of a head that looked a little too big for the rest of his frame.


He had a laconic manner, but was not what one could ever call ‘brusque’.


He just didn’t say much. He seemed to save his words like cash money is what I’m saying.


Presently, he asked, “Mog, when’s your next run to TA?” (‘TA’ = Tel Aviv).

Mog (who spent words with reckless abandon) replied, “I got the fuckin’ R&R run tomorrow.
Shit! Hey Lance, what run you got? Wanna trade?”

Mog hated the R&R runs mainly because R&R runs meant taking passengers. He loved driving the trucks into ‘Town’. Two reasons: He loved trucks and he loved to drive trucks very, very fast. Mog was a great driver, but riding with him scared the shit out of me.

“Sure Mog; I’ll trade with ya.”

“Which run you got?” he asked, now slightly wary at my all too quick agreement.

“Canal run.”

“Aw Shit No! Forget it.”

SFM Basecamp was about thirty klicks from the Suez Canal.

Every day an R&R vehicle left SFM to rendezvous with one coming from Cairo. Passengers would take a small boat across the canal and continue on to Cairo or back to SFM.

Incoming and out-going mail was also exchanged. Having  ‘The Canal Run’ meant getting off-base only for an hour or two.

Going to Tel Aviv meant driving only four hours, checking into the Sheraton and having the rest of the day and night to paint the town red with Per Diem and whatever else one wanted to contribute or muster out of his own purse.  

Mog had an Israeli girlfriend in Tel Aviv, actually she was his fiancée, and he took all the Tel Aviv runs he could get, so he could go see ‘The Little Mama’.

In fact all the drivers had Israeli girlfriends except Big Mo. His ‘Honey-Co’ was a Big-Boned, Tall Drink O’ Water, Texan Gal, working for SFM, just like us.

Her name was ‘Big Mammu’ and if those two didn’t eventually get united in hellish matrimony, then I say ‘Fuck it.’

There is no hope for the rest of the world. Perfect for each other they were, is all I’m saying.

********** !!!!

STILL LAUGHING!!!!

FUCK ME TO TEARS!!

Street Cred Vid: UnionSquareMusic

Yeah. I’m a fukking Moron!

Hahahaha!

(For any who do not get my sense o’ humor… You boarded the wrong boat)

NO Refunds.

Sink or swim!

*****

‘Awesomely Sexy’

Sassy and Sexy

does not even begin to come close to properly describing these ladies.

Especially Susanna Hoffs!

(See below ‘Waltz Like an Egyptian’ vid)

Just Sayin’

People just don’t seem to have fun anymore—too uptight

Right?

Or perhaps old age has made me jaded.

***

Addendum:


When the ‘Gyptian’ vid came out I was floating around on the USS Callaghan, somewhere in the North IO…Indian Ocean…
HQ in San Dog had sent us a copy of the vid.
Guess what we did.

Yep.

We had the ship’s photographer film the crew…
Walking like Egyptians.

I wish I had a copy, but you can use your imagination.

********

Footnote to this story:

In ’79 Egypt hired a Jap construction company to dredge the canal and to increase it’s girth by about  thirty-three percent.

This made life difficult for me.

From then on I had to take my passengers to Ismailia close to the Med coast to be able to cross over into Egypt proper.

‘Beautiful’ Ismailia

Added about an hour to my travel time.

Each way.

Fuck!

“Just One More Year/Beer? And Then I’ll Be Happy?” Talk Comes Cheap.

Not That Fridays, or Saturdays, Or Sundays, or Mondays Mean Fuk – All to Me,

But I do recall, Once Upon A Time, That The Day-of-the-Week was important.

These Days, Not So Much.

One Day Just Bleeds Into The Next.

But Y’all know what? I am Good with that.

“Just One More Year And Then I’ll Be Happy.”

I’ve been blowin’ this same old, recycled smoke up my ass all of my life.

The Jews had a better, more sophisticated version:

“Next Year in Jerusalem.”

(Halfway to Jerusalem)

They ‘got theirs’ in ’48.

Cemented in, in ’67.

Where’s mine?

Funny, or perhaps ironic thing, or stupid thing:

I still ‘Mantra’ this Mantra at me, aloud even.

(But always while Alone—Don’t want people to think I AM THAT much Certifiable)

Point is, and I have written on this before…

Point is, I am a Cock-Eyed Optimist.

No one, No Event, No personal Tragedy, No Spilt Booze Will Ever Rob Me of My Naïve Optimism.

(OK, Spilt Booze just Might Make Me Waiver—For a Moment)

But other Than Spilt Booze, Never Gonna Happen. Never gonna lose my optimism

And for that resilient resilience, I am grateful.

*********

Here is the Lame FaceFuk Post which was the Geneses of this TT&H post.

I drop it in only for full-disclosure / transparency purposes.

******

 “You used to think that it was so easy

You used to say that it was so easy

But you’re tryin’, you’re tryin’ now

Another year and then you’ll be happy

Just one more year and then you’ll be happy

But you’re cryin’, you’re cryin’ now.”

(Shared By Lance: “The Happy, Upbeat Camper”)

And Thanks to Gerry

P.S., “And then he’ll settle down, in some quiet little town

And forget about everything.”

Yep. Did that. Doing that.  Livin’ The Dream Right Here in Commerce, America. Who says ‘You can Never Go Home Again?” I call ‘Bullshit’ on That Sentiment.

******

Gentle Readers,

Realizing full-well that I have been on my ‘Soapbox’ of late, and I may have come across as somewhat ‘Preachy,’ but please understand:

I am NOT trying to tell ANYONE how to live their life.

I am merely communicating how I choose to live mine.

For me: It is a ‘Survival Thing.’

And if, by some Disturbance in the Ether, just one person ‘Gets’ me.

That is just gravy—and worth my efforts.

Cheers Y’all!

–Lance

*****

I drop this in for levity.

Because, as is my wont, I always try to end a post with a bit of humor.

This clip is not at all germane, but actually…

If you explore my archives and read about my relationships with women, it kinda is…

Germane

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.”

****

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 Want Another Jewish Princess

Reminiscing about my rebound lover from my living in Israel days…

After That Moroccan Bitch Gladys had dumped me,

I found a new, better girl.

Her name was ‘Alanna’

 And she was beautiful—very, very, VERY beautiful.

First time I saw her I was smitten like a kitten.

She had very long dark hair and even darker eyes.

She was a Yemenite Jew Witch—She could turn frogs into wine.

Problem was, not too many frogs to be found in Israel.

We searched and searched

Alas. No frogs.

So just ended up purchasing wine from the store.

No shit.

And I loved her (briefly)

She was one of my for all-time best lovers.

(I should have married HER instead of some of the broads I later married)

I always smile inside when I remember her.

Song Below: Click it if you dare.

Israel: My Favorite Country (aside from TEXAS)

So Iran is pissed off at Israel.

Threatening Israel.

HEY IRAN! FUCK AROUND. FIND OUT!

Israel has the strongest, best military in the Mideast. They have the fiercest soldiers. They have the best technology. What you gonna do Iran? Throw rocks against nukes?

Good fucking luck with that.

As anyone who knows me, knows

I lived

in that region for three years. I had a flat in Tel Aviv. I KNOW these people.

FUCK WITH THEM AT YOUR DESERVED PERIL

They don’t fuck around.

They don’t play.

Watch your Khomeini Ass

And just in case you happen to be “uneducated” and don’t ‘git’ me:

I’ll help you out:

“In the UK, you’re more likely to hear the word “flat” used interchangeably with “apartment.”

You’re welcome