‘Le Space Race’ Have A Blast (Off)

The Police – Walking On The Moon

Have a Blast (Off)

****

To the Moon Alice. To The Moon Do You want To go To The Moon?

Cred: IAintOverYet

*****

A Trip to the Moon – the 1902 Science Fiction Film

by Georges Méliès

 

 

 

Figured this is as good as that.

OR… why waste good ancient prose?

Your choice.

Here ya go:

*****

Now that 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 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 would not like me)
The worst thing one (amongst the uninitiated) is to 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 I did have a point, but my ‘point’ swerved into something else, which I really do not wanna talk about.
My point it thus: Kids that played computer games in the Eighties are now in charge of your world.
And to loosely quote Forrest Gump:
“That is all I am gonna say about that.”

Some thoughts?

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

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.

 

 

 

Is One The Moon, Dear Clown Tied To A String For Me?

“For Love or Money” –Joni

***

And yeah! In case you missed my ‘subliminal’ bullshit:

I still miss Shonnie

’tis a curse: A curse of a good woman.

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

*******

Tuesday Ed. Note: This Post Makes Absolutely NO SENSE

Hahahahaha

Hahaha! I Should Seek Council and Then Be ‘Put Away’ For Permanent! “Screwed! Cork-Screw’ed! Properly In Peril!”

You Got the Heart, But You Ain’t Got the Tools

****

Ever seen a grown man cry?

My Corkscrew is a Broke-Dick Dog!

Those who claim to know me…

Will unner-stan what a crisis this be for me!

****

I’m old enough, and ‘country enuff’ to remember having a ‘party line.’

Any of Y’all remember those?

(Thank You Hank JR:—You have always Been an Inspiration for Me) :

I suppose I could always smash the bottle against some concrete.

OOPs!–Over Did It!

************

But, in the doing of that… I may spill some of that, that, that I need so much!

Ever’ Drop!

(Lance is an alcoholic, doan’cha know—and Juicers are very good at rationing their Booze Provisions—we plan ahead!)

But There are always ‘options.’

And ‘work-arounds’

Just requires some ‘critical thinking’ and ‘Critical Drinking’—

and a Brain–

None of which I have readily available to me at this moment.

“Hello! DT Me!–

(DT’s — Self-imposed!)

Been a while!

Long time no see!

How’s the family?

How’s the wife and kids?

(I have a bit of Scottish in me… but it came out of a bottle—not out of Scotland…)

The Drunk Scotsman

Cred for Share Vid: Saine Tarasind

***

Since we are travelling about the UK…

Irish Rovers-Drunken Sailor

Best line from the Song:

“We’ll put him in a long boat ’til he’s sober.”

Vid Share Cred: John Kenton

***

I love my life.

I love that I am, by nature, a happy person.

This is Reeely Really REALLY Long. If You Slog Through It, I’ll Send You A Hot Check For Ten Thousand Bucks. Right Before I Skip Town.

“The Vomit Commentator’s Collection of Sad Commentary”

or

“How to Lose Your Readers in 4000 Words or Less”

***

Dear My Long-Suffering Patient Readers…

All five, four, three of you.

(“Type quick Son; they droppin’ like flies.”)

Uh, Dear Readers,

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 Diagram that Sentence.

Good Luck.

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 by LatinAutor – 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.

No matter.

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!

–Lance

***

“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!

–Lance

***

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?

Weak knees

Knocked trees

Bee stings

Laugh strings

Freak out

Geek out

La Shriek?

Très Chic

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.”

–Lance

***

No phone

No pool

No pets

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.

How Am I gonna Ever Know My Home

If I See It again?

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?

My beliefs…

“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.

Cheers,

–Lance

***

Yeah Alex, I’m down with this.

By the way,

What color is your parachute?

Cheers!

–Lance

***

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.’

–Lance

***

Are you aiming at ‘cute’ here,

Or just showcasing your stupidity?

If the former, well, FAIL!

If the latter, Congratulations!

“Any plans for tonight?

Fork?”

***

TEXAN TALES & HIEROGLYPHICS: A Memoir

(Working title)

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?”

–Lance

***

Hi Belinda,

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.

Thank you,

-Lance

***

“Ah Mortisha, I love it when you speak ‘atheist.’”

–Lance

***

“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…

J/K

It’s brilliant.

–Lance

***

“Allahu akbar!” BOOM!!!

(May often be heard in Shit-holes Paradises like Iraq)

***

It’s been a while since my last

Shitpost

So, without further ado…

*Zen and the Art of Commentary Maintenance*

Likes and Loves and Laughing Faces

Thumbs up Thumbs up

We’re off to the races!

A cheap thrill sensation

Brings joy and elation

With so much emoji

I’ll never be lonely

But cheap thrills ain’t lasting

Only forecasting

A sugary crash

Just a quick flash

Comments we want

No matter the font

Comments are golden

They fling the door open

Provide inspiration

Never inflation

True comments auspicious

And very propitious

Writers need feedback

Not smiley Prozac

If compelled to emoji

Don’t do that only

Take some small time

Drop a thin dime

Comment away

Make someone’s day

© Lance Marcom

***

Keeps rockin’ the nation

Emojis so cheap

But so fucking neat

We love ‘em to pieces

Like all them Meese meeses

–Comments, admit it…

Being “fatigued”

I have re-read (not that much fatigued)

Some of my recent comments.

Discovered this little gem:

“Comments are our life-blood”

Yup.

Some live for comments.

I love comments (and comets)

Even if they’re vomits

There is no real point to this post.

Save this:

If you like/don’t like a post,

Leave a little something of yourself behind,

by way of a comment, of course.

Even if just to say, “Hey! This sucks!” or “Hey! This rocks!” or “Hey! Don’t quit your day job!”

Out now

Comment, anyone?

“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?)

–Lance

***

Hi Ginette,

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.

Good post.

“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.”

Cheers,

–Lance

***

The lament of every writing generation,

“We suck!”

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?

Cute-Cat-Memes!

Fuck me and hand me a quill and ink pot.

***

Some of your best writing Alex/Marie. Kept me locked up inside.

Love it.

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…)

Bravo Marie!

–Lance

***

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.

–Lance

***

Hi Shawn,

Well, it’s massive.

Three ‘massive(s)’ in the first paragraph

Four additional ‘massive(s)’ and one bonus ‘massively’ sprinkled in the rest.

Seriously?

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.”

My suggestions?

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.

 Get-us-involved-in-her-story-right-away.

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.

Cheers,

–Lance

***

Juditta,

I listened right now, since it’s night.

Loved it.

Shared it to my timeline.

Cheers

–Lance

***

“For twenty-five cents more…”

–Lenny Bruce (“Hubert’s Museum”)

***

Hi Ginette,

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,

–Lance

*For Barney*
(RIP, My Old, Old, Old, Friend)

Trigger Warning:

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

© Texantales.com

Bar…

I don’t have any kids (that I know of), but the idea of dealing with eight kids and nine grandkids scares the shit outta me. I never could relate to kids, even when I was one.

Just saying

–Lance

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.

–Lance

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.

(Kidding—love it)

Hey, I posted an apropos

 while back:

“Time Sink”

Fighters an’ Writers

Righters an’ Smiters

Takin’ all my time

Spendin’ all my dime

Readin’ here

Fightin’ here

Sometimes even writin’ here

–Lance

Okay: I’ll play.

Lemme consult my ‘history’

Last Googled:

“Blogging for idiots”

“Creative drinking”

“Tell it; don’t show it”

–L

As an erstwhile distance runner, this post caught my eye (or maybe my foot’s eye?).

Enjoyed it.

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.

–Lance

***

Khalid,

This is far and above anything I could write (today), but I’ll get there.

Maybe.

Amazing.

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.”

Wow.

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?

–Lance

***

“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.

–Lance

BELIEVE that shit! 

“SHOUT! SHOUT! LET IT ON OUT…”

Credit: Tears and For Beers Fears (Duh)

***

Hi Mona,

“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.

–Lance

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)

And YES!

Sometimes merely ‘surviving’ is enough.

Great post.

Thanks for sharing the quote.

Cheers,

Lance

***

“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.

Cheers,

–Lance

Very well-written and thought provoking.

Bravo!

***

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.’

Or not.

LOL

***

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”)

Damn!

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…)

***

***

Dear Reader(s),

If you have come this far, I humbly suggest you find something better to do with your time.

Jes sayin’.

Cheers!

Forget It: I Need To Die Soon–I tried to make a ‘SHORT LIST’ of all the Women I Love, Respect, and Admire (& Desire!) Such Folly! Who Was I Kidding?! This ‘List’ Just goes on and on and on and on….

Below is just a ‘Short’ Collection of a Few of My Favorite ‘Things

My Humble Tribute to All The Girls

******

I Really Do LOVE You Stevie! You’re the Best of All the Rest.

I Adore You Stevie Nicks! (In Spite of my Recent (playful) Bashings of you)


“Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older too
Oh! I’m getting older too”

*****

Let’s Get On With it. Shall we?

“I Regret Nothing”

—Edith

“They put in a Nickle and they want a Dollar Song.”

Beautiful, Beautiful Joni

“When the men on the chessboard get up and tell you where to go…”

Sexy Grace

I tried to make a ‘short’ list of all the women whom I love and admire:

“Yeah! Good Luck With That!”

(The ‘Short’ Part)

  1. Joni
  2. Linda
  3. Barbra
  4. Catherine
  5. Sheryl
  6. Carly
  7. Cher
  8. Ex-wives (all four)
  9. Melanie
  10. Janis
  11. Mom
  12. Christine
  13. Grace
  14. Julie
  15. Madonna
  16. Lanie
  17. Edith
  18. K.D.
  19. Jill
  20. Dolly
  21. Holly
  22. Tanya (Native Texan!)
  23. Judy
  24. Liza (With a ‘Z’ “Not ‘Lisa’ With an ‘S'”)
  25. Dorothy
  26. Camila
  27. Shakira
  28. Stevie (Honorable Mention)
  29. And of Course, My “Lisa With an S” My Third Wife:

Then I ran out of virtual ink

Stray Tuned!

I shall expand!

But I’m in over my head!

Most people who write about ‘Fleetwood Mac’ Write about Stevie.

I write about Christine.

“Christine has such a rich, deep down dark chocolate voice . I love her”

–Lance Marcom, Circa 2021

(Stevie is such a condescending little bitch during this video—Watch it closely. Then you will see what I see)

Song-Bird! No Shit!

Cher! She’s All There:
The Whole Perfection Package.

Carly!

Bat-Shit Crazy & Wild Tanya.
I Love Her Like Cash Money!

Bella Madonna!

Babs!

Joni!!

Grace!

I have not the words to describe how I love this woman.

Catherine! Zeta-Jones!

Love YOU Girl! Lanie!

Linda Baby!

K.D. Yes!

Jill Clayburgh!

First time I saw The movie (Silver Streak) at the Grove Theatre, I thought Jill Clayburgh one of the Most Beautiful and Charming Women in the Entire World.
(And I still Do)

Dolly, A Natural, National Charmer Treasure:

Holly!

“Judy Judy JUDY!”

(SORRY, Cary Grant, And Rock Hudson)

********

Liza!

Dorothy: Epitome of The Perfect American Woman

Vid Creation Cred: Wat Bradford

Camila Darling!

Sexy Shakira!

*****

And This Beat Goes On…

********

I ‘Construct’ My Posts to Entertain.

No other hidden desire resides within me.

If you have come this far, I hope you enjoyed this post at least half as much as I enjoyed constructing it.

‘Twas a “Labour of Love

WOW! This Is A Long One! Awright: Here Below (Hopefully) Is The ‘De-Scrw’d–Un-Fukked Version’: My Life With ‘Crud-Eaters’ (And One Ex-Wife)

Why Is My Life So Difficult?

Sometimes There Just Aren’t Enuff Crud Eaters” Redux–Major Expanded–New & Improved!

The Text is WAY Too Big, But I dare Not Try To Fix That.

WP Has It In For Me! You See.

Why Did Living In Nacogdoches Always Remind Me Of The Movie ‘Deliverance’

???

(Don’t Answer That–It Was Still Texas)

No Darlin’ I wanna go to that new fish store and buy me a coupla crud-eaters for my ‘quarium.”

After having accumulated a little money during my three years’ working in the Sinai Desert

(Sinai Field Mission)

I decided to come home to Texas.

My wife (the first one) and I settled in Nacogdoches resolved to open a tropical fish store. A dream I’d had since I was a kid.

I had never been to Nacogdoches, but according to U.S. News & World Report, it was one of “The Ten Best Places to Live in the United States” and the city fathers had even erected a billboard on the main road into town proclaiming this quote from the magazine, just in case some folks missed reading that issue.

Nacogdoches, for any non-Texans who may be reading this, is Ass-Deep in the heart of the Deep East Texas Piney Woods—gorgeous country, simply breathtaking. ‘Paradise On Texas’.

We leased a small building on South Street, which was the southern part of the main drag through town, just off the square.

Wanting everything to be perfect, I spent the better part of the summer of 1980 fitting out the inside of my shop.

I built all the fixtures, assembled all the equipment, and even built the office desk my wife would be using to ‘Cook the Books’.

I built floor-to-ceiling rustic cabinets to display the sixty aquariums which would hold our retail stock. All that could be seen were the fronts of the tanks; no filters, hoses, wires or anything to wreck the ambiance.

The overhead lights were dimmed, keeping the atmosphere what one would expect in a fine Public Aquarium, most of the light coming only from the aquariums themselves.

At the very back of the store, I built a nine-foot by three-foot display tank, roughly 600 gallons—it was built into the wall, again so as not to ruin the effect.

This was my dream aquarium, showcasing all the skills I had honed over a lifetime of fish-keeping.

It was decorated with huge driftwood, rocky multi-leveled terraces, and no less than two dozen different varieties of live plants.

The effect was that of looking into a cross section of the Amazon River. Beautiful Blue Discus, shoals of Cardinal Tetras, various South American catfish, and many other exotic South American species were all stocked in this display.

It was the perfect closed ecosystem.

(Not My Tank, but very similar)

***

The retail stock tanks were also painstakingly decorated to provide examples of how fish should be kept in a home aquarium. No burping clams, no rotating ship’s wheels, no deep sea divers with bubbles coming out of their butt, no ‘Creatures from the Black Lagoon’,

No ‘No Fishin’ signs—none of this dime-store shit in MY Shoppe.

Oh Hell No. Every display reflected my fundamental conviction that tropical fish deserved to be represented in natural surroundings. Period.

Our store was beautiful. I set up a large octagon display tank in the entrance area, so that the first thing our customers would see was an aquarium as it should be: All Natural: Live plants, Real Driftwood, wonderfully terraced natural gravel substrate, and of course exotic tropical fish.

No goldfish, no guppies, no ‘trash fish’—for those they could go to Wal*Mart or Ben Franklin’s.

My stock tanks were filled with all the species I had always sought when I was in the hobby.

There were knife fish, freshwater fire eels, black veil angelfish, gold veil angelfish, marble veil angelfish, discus, Clown Loaches, many colorful varieties of Tetras, Barbs, Gourami’s, African leaf fish…

I had about a dozen different species of African Cichlids. There were Oscars, Arawanas, freshwater crustaceans, rare amphibians, and on and on.

I even had a freshwater stingray from the Amazon River and an electric catfish from Africa, both truly rare specimens, and I was sure they would be snatched up within a week of my grand opening.

Everything a hobbyist would need to set up a perfectly natural and beautiful aquarium was available for purchase:

Driftwood, live plants, natural gravel, a variety of river rocks, and of course all the hardware, to include all sizes of aquariums; all manner of pumps, filters, heaters, lights, etc. I even had Books! Hardbound Full-Color Aquarium Books for sale. Can you imagine? Books!

GRAND OPENING!
Aquarium World

Eagerly, I counted the minutes until we opened the doors to ‘The Public’ for the first time. I was twenty-two years old and In Business! The Tropical Fish Business! I knew my shit. There was nothing anyone could possibly tell ME about Tropical Fish. No Ma’am. No Sir.

A few minutes before opening, Janet came over to me and said with not a little trepidation in her voice, “Uh, Lance, the parking lot is full.” (We had done quite a lot of advertising)

“Well great! Let’s let ‘em in.”

As she went to open up I was very excited. I would be talking to My People, The True Hobbyists. People who loved Tropical Fish Keeping as did I.

Door opened and here they came.

I greeted my first customer, a fortyish lady with big hair and perhaps a little too much make-up, “Good morning Ma’am and welcome to Aquarium World. How may I help you?”

“I need a crud-eater for my tank.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, I need a crud-eater to clean up that crud that gets all over the bottom.”

“You mean ‘detritus’?

“Ditra…who? I mean the fish poop. I want a crud eater to clean that up. In fac’ I’ll take two of ‘em.”

(I felt my hobbyist heart sinking with every word out of this woman’s mouth)

“Ma’am, there is not a fish on Earth that eats excrement.”

“Son, I didn’t say…er’cra…wha’d you say? I want a crud eater to eat all that fish crud off’n the bottom of my tank.”

“Ma’am, I can sell you a Plecostomus. They are very adept at cleaning up the algae and will also clean up any uneaten food that your other fish allow to fall to the substrate.

Plecostomus AKA: Crud-Eater

“You ain’t from aroun’ here, are ya Son? I don’t want no plebotta-musk damnit. I want a crud eater.

“Ma’am, there is no such fish as the one you are describing. I am very sorry.”

“You mean they don’t make crud eaters no more?”

“No Ma’am; I am sorry to say, ‘they’ don’t.”

“Well, I’m gonna go down ta Walmart; my cousin said that’s where she done got hers.”

****

Hoping that my first customer was some kind of anomaly, I approached my next, a fiftyish woman with chubby red cheeks and a pleasant look about her.

“Good morning Ma’am and welcome to Aquarium World. How may I help you?”

“I’m lookin’ for the guppies, but I ain’t seein’ none.”

Guppies

“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we don’t sell guppies. We have some lovely Neon Tetras over here and some very colorful Cardinal Tetras as well: Very beautiful and rather low-maintenance.”

“They have babies?” she asked.

“Well, uh… yes; they can be bred in captivity, but it is rather involved and labor intensive on the part of the hobbyist.

You will need an extra aquarium and some infusoria to feed the fry. I have a wonderfully well-illustrated book in the front room which describes how to breed many species of egg layers. I would be happy to show it to …”

“They don’t have no babies?”

“No ma’am, they are not live-bearers like your guppies, platys, mollies and the like. They lay eggs, and if you provide the proper…”

“My Gran-baby, she likes to see them babies pop outta the mama.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I just don’t sell those species here. Are you sure I can’t interest you in some more interesting varieties of tropical fish?”

“What the hell could be more int’restin’ than God’s miracle of life happenin’ in front of my gran’baby’s eyes right there in my own fish bowl? You ain’t from aroun’ here, are ya Boy? You one of them ath’ists or sumthin’?”

“Ma’am, perhaps you should try Walmart.”

I looked at Janet, standing behind the counter waiting to ring up our first sale. She just gave me that “Don’t look at me,” look.

There were seven or eight other customers in the shop perusing all the aquariums. None seemed to require my assistance.

Looking around for someone who might be needing my expertise, I spied an elderly man, tall and lean and rough-looking and right out of a Marlboro ad.

He was standing in front of my fish food display, which could be compared to the colorful displays of herbal tea one might find at some high-end New York tea house.

I was very proud of that display, but the choices were myriad and probably for him, I surmised, somewhat overwhelming.

“Good Morning Sir. Welcome to Aquarium World. May I help you with the fish food selection?”

“Mornin’ back atcha, Young Man. I’m lookin’ for some fish food for my pet catfish. Been feedin’ ‘im cornbread and bits of fried chicken, but he don’t seem to like that much.”

“Uh…yes. I suppose he wouldn’t. May I ask what kind of catfish you have? Pimelodella pictus, Corydoras, Plecostomus?”

“Mudcat”

“Oh, I see… I have some pellets here specially formulated for bottom feeders. These should do nicely and they won’t cloud up your aquarium as I’m certain the cornbread is.

“Aquarium? Hell Son. I keep him in a big ole mason jar. Don’t need no ‘quarium.”

“Did you need anything else today Sir?”

“Nope. This here’ll do me. Much obliged.”

Mudcat

Mudcat

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is mb-man.jpg

Marlboro-Mudcat Man

I Suspect This Was Mudcat Before He Was ‘Adopted’:

Street Cred: joecartoondotcom

“Very well. My wife can ring you up over at the counter. Thank you for shopping at Aquarium World.”

Why was I suddenly feeling as if I had died and Gone to Dante’s Hell and was stuck in the movie ‘Deliverance’?

I walked around a bit, observing my exotic fish and eavesdropping on my customers.

“Hey Marlene! Come looky here at this one!”

“What is’t Nathan?”

This fish is NOT to be sold to minors, idiots, alcoholics or Yankees

“Says ‘Lectric Catfish’ right there. You ever heard a such?”

“It looks so real! Caint even see where the batteries go.”

Input Output: Electricity

Video Credit: JoniJourney

****

I moved on.

There was a young couple giggling in front of my Fire Newt tank. They looked like college students, probably from Stephen F. Austin, the local university. I eased closer to eavesdrop. I was curious as to what was so damn funny about my Fire Newts.

“Hey Mark,” the girl whispered to her boyfriend, “Those two are doing ‘sixty-nine.’’

More quiet giggling. Then ‘Mark’ said, “She turn’d me into a newt… I got bettah.” More giggling.

I had to smile.

“Hey Honey.” Janet was calling to me. “Could you come here for a sec?”

She was still with The Marlboro Man.

“Is there a problem Sir?” I asked.

“Son, I just got one question.”

“Yes Sir?”

“What is so Goddamn special ‘bout this here rock that it costs nine dollars?”

“Well, you see Sir, this rock is perfect for use in closed aquarium systems, as it has no iron ore, unlike most of the rocks you may pick up around here in east Texas. It will not rust in your aquarium and kill your fish. It is imported from Colorado. It is a river rock, washed clean by nature.”

“Bullshit! I guess I’m in the wrong business. I s’pose I should just sell all my cattle and go to harvestin’ rocks off my ranch. Hell. I got plenty rocks, I could retire in a year. By th’ way, y’all ain’t from ‘round here, are y’all?”

Things did not improve much from there. As soon as we closed I called my wholesale sales rep in Bossier City and told him to rush me some guppies, platys, mollies and a few score crud eaters. Oh, and throw in some burping clams and some neon-colored plastic plants. And yes, I will pay the extra charge for next-day delivery.

***

I probably forgot to mention this, but we were so poor at first that we had to live in the shop, (Which was against a City Ordinance Local Law) no longer able to afford the apartment we lived in after spending all of our savings on getting the shop ready to open. We slept on army cots procured from my

maternal grandfather

*****

And That Was Just My First Day.

Where were the True Hobbyists?

******

Continuation of this Old Fish Tale:

Approximately six or seven months after our “Illustrious Grand Opening” we had built up some decent clientele who appreciated exotic (read “expensive”) specimens, hence we were turning tidy profits.

I decided to expand into the flip-side of the coin that is the ‘Tropical Fish Business’:

‘Salt Water Exotics’—even more expensive and greater profit margin to boot.

“My Dream” That Kept Me Up Most Nights

Once I Had Made My Decision

***

There was a calculated risk in this, as keeping reef fish in closed systems during the Eighties was not nearly as sophisticated nor as easy as it is today.

The equipment was just freshwater still, but clever manufacturers started packaging and labeling the same equipment “For Salt Water Aquariums” and jacked the price about ten percent.

Being the ‘Professional’ that I was; I spotted this ruse instantly.

There was one decent product that did come on the market and it definitely was ‘strictly’ for marine aquariums: ‘Instant Ocean.’

Just add water and you’re good to go.

The little front section of Aquarium World had one octagon display tank and a shelf with all those expensive books that nobody ever bought, so I had ample room to set up my marine tanks there.

I purchased a one hundred gallon aquarium and two fifties to go on either side.

The set-up satisfied me technically and pleased me aesthetically.

****

Over the course of a few weeks I accumulated all the equipment (and boxes of ‘Instant Ocean’) I needed.

Suitable substrate required some searching though. All the available literature recommended crushed coral.

“Hello? I live in The Piney Woods of East Texas.”

Not a lot of coral here, crushed or otherwise.

Then I discovered in one book that crushed oyster shell would work almost equally well, with the caveat that it can be hard on bottom feeders, due to the semi-sharp nature of it.

We all must make trade-offs in our lives, even bottom feeders. (I have known a few—mostly of the ’two-legged’ variety, but that is a ‘different’ post.

Turns out, I could purchase all the crushed oyster shell I would ever need right there in Nacogdoches. I did not know it at the time, but it is used in gardening. I guess it does something magical when mixed in with the soil.

Who knew?

***

So with that last little hurdle hurdled over, I assembled my Marine Aquariums.

Janet and I had driven to our primary wholesaler, Fritz Pet Products in Dallas the previous Saturday.

They delivered every week, but I needed to purchase décor for my tanks and needed to pick it out myself, not trusting some buck-tooth stock puller to pick the most suitable (to me) pieces of coral, alkaline rocks, et cetera.

We did not have a car at the time, our last one having given up the ghost. But, happily one of the car dealerships had a side-business: “Rex’s Rent-A-Wreck.” For just ten bucks a day we could have vehicular transportation, with just one stipulation: “Do not take it out-of-town—local use only,”

Well, screw that!

We drove it to Dallas (And later to Houston and Galveston)

Guess Ol’ Rex never bothered to check the odometer.

***

After getting the tanks decorated to my satisfaction, filling them with Instantly made ocean, checking that the filters and other equipment was working properly, there was yet one thing to do before I could put reef fish in the aquariums.

‘Season’ the tanks.

Without getting too technical, this means getting the ‘nitrogen cycle’ started.

Since I am lazy, I stole this rather abbreviated explanation from the internet:

Nitrogen Cycle:

The natural Nitrogen Cycle is a full-cycle where Nitrogen goes from air to plant to animal to bacteria and back to air; such a system needs no human intervention.

In an aquarium though, the Nitrogen process is less a cycle and more a biochemical cascade that involves the continual chemical degradation of nitrogenous compounds from ammonia to nitrite to nitrate.

The final nitrates are then taken up by aquarium plants or removed from the water by other means.

“Le Cycle”

***

Now knowing that black mollies are naturally brackish water fish in the wild (But always marketed as ‘fresh-water’ and popular like guppies, because they are cheap and, like guppies, are live-bearers), I knew they could thrive in pure sea water as well.

I needed them in my marine tanks to jump-start the cycle, thus ‘seasoning’ the tanks.

So I threw a dozen each into my fifty gallons, and two dozen into my one hundred gallon.

They did just fine and were soon popping out baby black mollies like rabbits pop out baby rabbits.

Pretty soon I was up to my ass in black mollies (so I started selling the off-spring down the river, so to speak.

After a few weeks of this, and using my water testing kits, monitoring the ammonia and nitrite levels, I announced to Janet,

“It’s time to go to Houston via Galveston. Please call up Rex and tell him we need to rent his wreck for a few days.”

“Why do I always have to call him?” she demanded.

“Because he has a crush on you and he don’t much care for me. That’s why.”

“I know we are going to “Salt-Water Marine” wholesaler in Houston so you can buy some damn fish, but why Galveston?”

“Because you need a tan,” I said.

“Lance, you’re an asshole. Have I ever mentioned that?”

“Hermit crabs.”

“Whaaat??”

“I need hermit crabs for my tanks and they come for free on the beach at Galveston. Just have to search ‘em out, pick ‘em up and and bag ‘em up.”

“I’ll be damned if I’m gonna even touch, let alone pick up a hermit crab,” she said.

“Don’t fret. You’ll be lying on a beach towel getting that tan you so desperately need while I am combing the beach, hermit hunting.

When night falls, we’ll check into The Flagship Hotel, order room service with a bottle of wine and make love. You could use a little mini-vacation and some pampering. God knows you’ve earned it. And… we get to sleep in a real bed, instead of an army cot. Sound good?”

The Glorious Flagship

“What about the crabs? They gonna get room service too?”

“Naw, they’re gonna sleep in a bucket in the car. We’ll have the whole room to ourselves.”

Bright and early next morning, in high spirits and so happy to be getting out of Nacogdoches, we were south-bound and down, Destination: Galveston.

(Glen Was From Arkansas, But I forgave Him That)

Video Credit: WarmerMusicVideos
It’s a great vid. Would not you concur?

To be continued...

Ed. Note: I Have So Many More ‘Madelyn Stories’ But is Painful To Think–Impossible To Verbalize Right Now.

“It is a Sister Kind of Day!

I Miss Her So Fukking Much!!!

I Loved Her So Fukking Much.

Just Shoot Me! In the Head!

Twice!

Thrice!

However Many Times You Need.

Take Your Time.

Do It Right.

*****

“How Do You Hold A Moonbeam In Your Hand?”

You Can’t.

Trust Me:

I’ve Tried

I still miss her.

“Maria” (And some guy)

Madelyn & Me!

Me & Madelyn!

On-The-Stage!

Stars!

She & Me!

Me & She!

We had to share The Spotlight, but

“The Play”

Was always about

HER

Not Me

As it should be.

*******

She ‘Maria’ to My ‘Cap’n Von Trapp’

“Sound of Music” HS Play: Circa 1975

(Every so often, Script demanded we ‘kiss’—We never did during rehearsals.)

During one rehearsal, when the script DEMANDED a kiss, and RIGHT NOW!

We didn’t. We did not kiss.

Some fellow ‘actor’ shouted, “Hey! Y’all didn’t do the kiss! How are Y’all gonna do a believable kiss on stage if you don’t rehearse?

Madelyn didn’t miss a beat and coolly replied,

“We rehearse our kisses every night.

When we are at home.

Alone.

So don’t worry.”

Opening night, we kissed, not unlike two horny teens. It was painful. (For her. Not for me! I had been waiting for years to kiss her!)

And right before we kissed, live on stage, in front of about three hundred audience, she whispered to me,

“You better not slip me no tongue.”

So… guess what I did?

Yep.

C’est Française, n’est-ce-pas?

She was NOT Amused, but she pulled it off, non·plussed

As if nothing untoward had just happened.

*********

OK. I am sober now. Slept off my drunk.

Easy.

I have Slept Off thousands of drunks in my day.

Got that routine down pat.

Could not sleep off my sorrow over losing my

MY

My Dear Madelyn:

New unchartered waters for me.

Never have I lost a sister.

My heart is broke, but this is not gonna be about me.

Lord knows I write too much about me and my narcissism.

This is about My Sister, My Madelyn.

My intent is to write and write and write about her for the next few days until I run out of virtual ink in my virtual pen.

Some of you out there in ‘Radio Land’ knew her.

If you have any memories to share, now would be the time.

This may come across as ‘sick’ to you, read in the harsh light of present day:

But, if I am being honest with my feelings, I must write them.

Since Madelyn and I were not actually ‘blood relations’ there were more than a few times when we were tempted.

Tempted to be much more than step-brother and step-sister.

There for damn sure was a mutual physical and cerebral attraction.

But… we were ‘mature’ enough, even back then, mature enough to understand that we could not go there, however much we, at times, desperately wanted to.

We wanted to ‘go there.’

Oh My God!

How we wanted to ‘Go There’!

But We didn’t.

It would have been so easy.

We had the entire third floor of Marcom Manor to ourselves.

The parents were often gone for days at a time.

Leaving us to ‘fend’ for ourselves.

For the sake of ‘The Family’… we didn’t.

Go there.

We didn’t go there.

Some small part of me wishes we had.

But if we had, this would be quite a different post than the one I am writing right now.

Over all the years there were so many things I wanted to say to Madelyn, but shit always seemed to get in the way.

Now, my mind is racing with all those words left unsaid.

Never to be said, at least not in this place, this alone place I find me in.

I suppose I can just cast this one out into the ether:

“Madelyn, I love/loved you!”

But she cannot hear me now, can she?

“How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?”

********

This Song very well, and very accurately, describes Madelyn.

She was always a ‘Problem.’

But!

She was SO Fucking charming!

Could NEVER be angry at her.

Never!

Not for a moment!

She could melt / play you with a smile.

(And she knew this power she had)

And trust me Folks,

She wielded it.

With reckless abandon.

(Much to my chagrin at times)

I could never get away with shit.

Madelyn did.

Every day!

Every-Fucking-Time!

How do you hold a moonbeam in you hand?

**********

I cannot continue this.

At this moment.

But I will come back.

And sooner than later

***********

Gretchen:

“Madelyn had a horse once: a cross between a Shetland pony and a Welsh mare. Now, I really don’t know much about horses and during that time I knew even less, but I really did want to play cowboy, so I decided to make friends with the local “real cowboy” and have him teach me how to ride this animal. I was about twelve going on thirteen at the time.

The problem with this horse was that it was a pet. Madelyn had talked my father into buying it for her not long after she and her mom moved in (I was not yet on the scene; was still living with my grandparents.

I suppose I arrived some months after the horse). Anyway, she soon lost interest in Gretchen (is that a proper horse name?) hence, she (Gretchen) never ever got ridden; (I cannot speak for Madelyn.) This will become important later in my story.”

***

Leroy:

First he was taken by Kim. Kim got bored with him and gave him to my step-sister Madelyn. She thought he was just the coolest thing ever!

For about three days…

His coolness factor having for her it seems, a very short half-life, I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse for her coon: Cash Money. Money’s coolness factor has no half-life. She was only too happy to surrender Leroy to my care for the tidy sum of thirty-five bucks. Quite tidy indeed to an unemployed High School girl in 1974.

********

My heart is broken.

I miss you Madelyn!

You were so much more than my sister.

I was so forever in love

With

You

With You

Madelyn-In-My Mind:

Street Cred: Chris Isaak

***

OK. Now I am Drunk again.

Seems I have come ‘Full-Circle.’

I am gonna stop fucking around with this post and just wallow in my grief.

I miss My Sis