Speakin’ of Leavin’ & Grievin’ & Drinkin’ & Sneezin’ & Thinkin’…. Too Much…I Shoulda Left Las Vegas! & Louisiana! Naw! I Love Las Vegas/Or, As More Frequently Referred: “Lost Wages!!!” I Love Louisiana Too!!!–See Be-low! — Elisabeth Shue— Screw You Too!

“I May Drink Too Much!

Smoke too Much!

Stay Out Late Out Late At Night Yoo Much!

Elisabeth Shue!

Please Marry Me!

I Promise To Be True!

To You!

Life is Just a Tire Swing!

Hitch Yer Wagon to a Star!

Martha Tilton

Cred for vid: Croonr1

**********

Jimmy Buff–Aye!

OKAy!

Yay!

“I’m Just a Tired, Worn-Out, Broken Swing!”

C’est Moi!

Tired Swing!

Cred: OutdoorChautauqua

Thank You!

This is Such a Charming Video!

Huh???

Really??

Nother Fun Fack:

Lance is A Dumb-Ass With No Class!

Cred: Jimmy-Some-Guy

Gotta Make a Livin’

*****

I Love You Emmylou!

You Are So Beautiful!

Liz Shue

I Love You!

GODDoddm-nIt!

Gone-Damn It!

This HITS

Way Too Close to my-HOME!

(Fun, Pointless Fact: Those Are Baby Koi Carp in That Fish Tank)

I know My Fish! Trust Me On This!

****

Las Vegas
And pondering why I love the TV show, ‘Nashville’ so much.

Here goes:

Many a time while stationed in San Diego, I would make a spur of the moment decision to drive the five hours to Vegas.

Occasionally with a buddy or two after closing down a bar somewhere downtown San Dog. Once or twice with a female accomplice,  but usually alone.

(Not Many were brave enuff, or stupid enuff, to get into my car at two a.m.)

“It’s OK. We (I) can sober up on the road. We’ll get to Vegas about sunrise.”

Would just show up, never having the wherewithal or forethought to reserve a room so I’d just nap in my Tornado if necessary.

But then, I never really slept while in Vegas anyhow. Why would I need a room?

Too bad I was born too late to experience “The Rat Pack.” Maybe if I accumulate enough good Karma, I can come back as Sammy Davis Jr. Or Frank Sinatra.  Stranger things have happened, in the night, eh?

Dean Martin, caught in a Gravity Storm. 

Priceless.

Continue reading

Mind Gone! Blown! “Now Run Tell That!” –Peanut, semi-famous person.

(Here is the ‘Peanut’ link if ya wanna find the quote.)

My girlfriend is a poker-player. A real good poker-player.

She reads ‘tells’ like I read comic books, i.e. real good.

I am NOT real good at poker. (Craps, Blackjack? Yeah. I shine there)

Anyway…

Here is a transcribed recent conversation, recently transcribed:

“Lance, you’ve been drinking.”

“No I haven’t”

“Yes you have.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because of your ‘tells.’”

“My what?”

“Your ‘tells’.”

“Oh you mean William?”

“No! I mean your ‘tells’.”

“Huh?”

“You telegraph your state.”

“Texas?”

“No Idiot. You telegraph.”

“I don’t speak Morse Code.”

*exasperated looks*

“Lance, I can ‘tell’ when you’ve been drinking from your ‘tells’”

“Tell me my ‘tells’ so that I may amend them.”

“No fucking way I am telling you your ‘tells’”

“Ah! Why not?”

“You just don’t get it do ya?”

“Do tell…”

“Fuck you!”

“Okay.”

P.S. The dog can ‘tell’ too. But he just don’t give-a-shit.

“Bring me a fuckin’ soup bone.”

I threw this video in just because I love it.

(Adds absolutely nothing germane to the story)

“Ahso Meta-Mook!”

Is this a word? ‘Meta-Mook’?

(I guess that line forms on the right.)

The King of COOL!

Bobby Darin!

Shoulda Left Las Vegas

Las Vegas
And pondering why I love the TV show, ‘Nashville’ so much.

Here goes:

Many a time while stationed in San Diego, I would make a spur of the moment decision to drive the five hours to Vegas.

Occasionally with a buddy or two after closing down a bar somewhere downtown San Dog. Once or twice with a female accomplice,  but usually alone.

“It’s OK. We (I) can sober up on the road. We’ll get to Vegas about sunrise.”

Would just show up, never having the wherewithal or forethought to reserve a room so I’d just nap in my Tornado if necessary.

But then, I never really slept while in Vegas anyhow. Why would I need a room?

Too bad I was born too late to experience “The Rat Pack.” Maybe if I accumulate enough good Karma, I can come back as Sammy Davis Jr. Or Frank Sinatra.  Stranger things have happened, in the night, eh?

Dean Martin, caught in a Gravity Storm. 

Priceless.

Continue reading

Lady Luck Chapter Three

Gin and Sin

***

Travis returned to the table.

Sat back down at ‘third base’

Everything was just as he had left

(In Vegas one can leave a thousand dollars on a blackjack table for hours and hours and hours, knowing it will still be there when you ever decide to come back—best town in the world.)

Vegas!

The Nordic blond was studying Travis.

He could feel her stare.

Finally he turned to her and said,

“What!”

She grabbed his arm and said “

“Come with me” as she dragged him from the table,

“I want you to buy me a drink.”

“I and you, get free drinks at the blackjack table” Travis said.

“I want YOU to buy ME a drink.”

They sat down at the bar.

“Who are you?” Travis asked her.

“I am the woman who will never be named later. Barkeep! A gin and tonic for me and an ‘old-fashioned’ for Cowboy here.”

They sat at the bar and Travis got lost in her eyes for what seemed like days as she talked.

***

Bonus Added Value:

I LOVE LAS VEGAS!

Cred For Vid: djrelaxmind

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCNddYMfRjXPB7L2n9nYYdHQ

Those Were The days My Friend

Thought They’d Never End

(But They Did)

Mary Hopkin – Those Were The Days – 1968

(She is so Beautilul–And So Soulful)

Lady Luck Chapter Two

Last we left our Hero, he was seated ‘Third-Base’ at the Blackjack table.

Had placed a red (five dollar) chip.

Pretty young dealer dealt him a pair of eights (always split Aces & Eights)

Which is precisely what he did.

Pretty Young Ornamental dealer dealt him a tray (three) to his first eight.


OK to double-down on a split pair?” He asked.

“Of course Sir” she said.

Travis slid another red on his first hand.

Dealer dealt him a seven. Making eighteen.

(Dealer’s up-card was a five of hearts—dead man’s hand—she would surely bust over that weak-ass shit, he mused)

She dealt him a Queen to his second hand, making another eighteen! Boom!

Doubled down on that one as well and stood pat.

Dealer turned over her hole card, revealing a jack of hearts, giving her a fifteen. She had to hit it.

She dealt herself a six of diamonds for a twenty-one and then gathered up all the chips on the table.

Travis felt sick to his stomach and excused himself, saying,

“I’ll be right back” as he headed to the head to throw up.

He entered a stall and pounded his head against the wall.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid son of a bitch!”

Then he lost consciousness.

Was dreaming of black hundred dollar chips stacked in front of him at the blackjack table.

Then he woke up.

Opened the stall door.

Gathered himself and walked out.

Spied two weekend warriors, Hawaiian shirts, bellies straining fabric, Bermuda shorts.

They were regarding him curiously.

“Bad whiskey” Travis said as he left to return to the Blackjack table.

***

“Do it Over and Again Lance You Lazy Asshole!”

Will be continued…

***

Open Apology To My Readers:

This was a really great story when first I wrote it for a creative writing class at university.

I lost the original, but it is still in my head.

I can rewrite it with respect for my readers (both of you–That’s a joke, BTW. I know I have no less than four readers)

I WILL rewrite the ‘Good’ version.

The ‘complete’ version.

Instead of this scaled down shit version I just posted above.

***

***

Chap One Here (Such as it is)

“Lady Luck” or “Bewitched, Bothered, & Bewildered” You Choose. (WIP)

My Gawd! But He Was Great!

Great Frank!

Travis was three-quarter drunk.

This was not unusual.

For Travis.

He had staggered from the El Cortez to the Union Plaza,

Thinking he might ‘get well’ at the blackjack tables

(His ‘stake’ had dwindled somewhat)

First stop:

Le Bar.

History dictated he would not get far.

However, Travis was feeling blessed and lucky this night.

We would see.

He spied a primo blackjack table, with only three ‘patrons’ seated there.

Perfect for an underachiever count-down artist, which is what he was.

But of course he saw himself as so much more.

He took his drink and his still smoldering Marlboro and his over-blown cockiness over to the table.

Sat down and said to the pretty young Ornamental dealer,

“Red and green”

As he threw out his last three hundred bucks….

She just smiled in that smile that Travis had seen so many times from the bar girls in Olongapo.

“Charming and Endearing” does not even come close as description,

What little did he know….

As a long tall blond broad took a seat next to him.

How his world was about to change.

Forever

***

And some days.

To be continued…

I think I’ve seen this movie before… I didn’t like it”

Narrator said.

This is ‘obviously’ my first foray into ‘fiction’

For as my ‘faitfful’ readers know, I do not attempt fiction.

No good at it.

So…

Any resemblamce to Lance, the author, or his life experiences…. are purely coincendental and just a glitz in this mate-trix.

And of course

This story will be mostly about women

Never escaping that.

Just is impossible.

Truth

Nor fiction

Women

All Ways About Women

***

Free Bonus: