Selective focus crown of thorns on a Texas Hill Country fence post with a field and trees in the background
Ed note 2021:
I spent four years in Iraq.
Just sayin for what the fuck it is worth.
Here is Lance: ON the Record. (and on a rant; a long overdue rant)
I do not give two warm cups of spit, ‘Bout the politics of the Dixie Chicks. But I love them. They are all… Texas. And, after-all, Home-Grown. Hey! Texas! Git over it! Texas was built upon the backs of strong wimmens… Jes sayin’. Y’all know this (Texas!)
I love everything which pukes itself from Texas. Even them Dixie Chicks. I stood by them then. I stand by them now.
Watch the vid, then tell me there ain’t no Texan Talent There.
Dare ya! (‘Tis a fight I will join–try me!). But, bring the big guns. I will debate you up, if ya don’t. I have some ducks all rowed up.
And y’all know… well, ya know, I am just joking (’bout the guns) This is a fight, I will only join in the vestiges of parlay… and discourse. (Seems I have grown a… well, I still have some fight in me, for certain ‘issues’–this being one.)
Cheers!
Lance (True lover of Texas Women) Lord knows I have known many (Biblical sense and otherwise, sidewise sense), and they all, to a woman, scared the ever-loving shit outta me.
That is their nature (and how they roll)
“Don’t Mess With Texas” (Women)
Trust me on this one Y’all.
(And yes I know, Nat is the only ‘Native Texan’ in the group, but the band was birth’d in Dallas)
Even that statement is wrong. It presupposes that religious folk do not have a sense of humor, or that they are intolerant of not-religious folk. I know of only one religion which is totally intolerant and not open to sense of humor. I don’t need to name it, but we all know its name (Shhh…. Don’t tell. But it starts with an M and ends with an ‘um’. Yeah! You guessed it:“Methodist-um” )
(Now I know, I have been uncharacteristically silent on the ISIS CRISIS in specific and ‘Religion Poisons Ever’Thing’ in General. I am ‘back-building’, much like that volcano in Iceland. What you may experience here, today, is just a fissure, impotently spewing. ‘Fissuring’, if you will. Don’t worry: The Big Bang is coming folks and it ain’t gonna be nothin’ nice.)
Shhhhh…. don’t tell. Keep yer head, and yer wits, and yer tits, and yer clits about you.
So… Don’t speak. Bad for your health: ‘Speaking.’
Listen / Watch Here Below: And Christopher’s last line (in case you missed it)
“Stay cool.”
So ‘be cool’ and watch it, for it is timely, given our present present.
And as a completely different aside: I got some very good advice from a very, well not very, not even a very good friend, let us just call her ‘an acquaintance’:
She chastised me.
Why?
Because I employ too many parentheses…. “Makes me hard to read.’ She said. ‘Madman,’ She said. Truth, she spoke.
Even that statement is wrong. It presupposes that religious folk do not have a sense of humor, or that they are intolerant of not-religious folk. I know of only one religion which is totally intolerant and not open to sense of humor. I don’t need to name it, but we all know its name (Shhh…. Don’t tell. But it starts with an M and ends with an ‘um’. Yeah! You guessed it:“Methodist-um” )
(Now I know, I have been uncharacteristically silent on the ISIS CRISIS in specific and ‘Religion Poisons Ever’Thing’ in General. I am ‘back-building’, much like that volcano in Iceland. What you may experience here, today, is just a fissure, impotently spewing. ‘Fissuring’, if you will. Don’t worry: The Big Bang is coming folks and it ain’t gonna be nothin’ nice.)
Shhhhh…. don’t tell. Keep yer head, and yer wits, and yer tits, and yer clits about you.
So… Don’t speak. Bad for your health: ‘Speaking.’
Listen / Watch Here Below: And Christopher’s last line (in case you missed it)
“Stay cool.”
So ‘be cool’ and watch it, for it is timely, given our present present.
And as a completely different aside: I got some very good advice from a very, well not very, not even a very good friend, let us just call her ‘an acquaintance’:
She chastised me.
Why?
Because I employ too many parentheses…. “Makes me hard to read.’ She said. ‘Madman,’ She said. Truth, she spoke.
Jack Ruby (born Jacob Leon Rubenstein; MAR 25, 1911 – JAN 3, 1967)
Why Jack? Oh Why?!
Of course if you want the answer to that
Burning Behind the Grassy Knoll
question, all you need do is listen to Lenny.
Look no further.
Lenny Has This One Covered Y’all:
Before We Proceed, here is a ‘Disclaimer’ by way of an Author’s Note:
‘Slightly’ re-worked, but I left in all the ‘Incoherent Bullshit’
(For ‘Hysterical / Historical Purposes of Course.)
***
Or, if you ain’t ‘into’ Lenny, I suppose you could just ask Lance, as his erstwhile step-mom, Gloria, had worked for Jack during the Sixties in his
‘Carousel Club’.
Carousel Club, Dallas; owned and managed by Jack Ruby, 11/24/1963
According to Gloria, Jack was very, very proud of his Club and always referred to it as, wait for it…
“A Real First Class Joint.”
She never told me precisely what it was that she did there for Jack, by way of gainful employment. And in truth, I really didn’t wanna know.
Whatever it was that she did do for Jack, it was probably not what these girls did.
(For ‘Their Jack’)
She, Gloria… er… was not ‘qualified’
The ‘REAL‘Gloria
She prob’ly sold cigarettes or sumthin’.
The ‘Fake’ Gloria
(Sorry. But there never was any love lost between me and Gloria. This paralyzed fact is well-documented and may easily be discovered in the pages of my blog.)
And if you, any of you, breath, yeah ‘breath’. A single word of this to my also erstwhile step-sister…Whom I love dearly, well, that breath, will, yes will, be your last…
Yeah, I always considered ‘Throwback Thursdays’ somewhat of a ‘gift.’ I mean, if I had nothing to write I could always dig down into those old archives, et voila!There ya go!Instant Post!Keep Feedin’ Them Fishes! Yada, Yada, Yaaaa Duh!
(In Some Truth: I just wanted to put up some Lenny Bruce–for ‘Old Time’s Sake’)
And it kind of goes along with that Brother Dave post from a day or two ago.
I generally spend about ten minutes ‘writing a post’. Then three minutes waiting on ‘spell check’ to remind me that I cannot spell ‘cat.’ Then two minutes (except for the upload wait) to upload photos/videos. One minute at the ‘final’ look.
Then: Click that ‘sucker’.
That ‘Publish’ button.
And pray.
Done!
Rinse and repeat the next day. This bothers me. Why? Because, as all of us (may) feel, we can write so much better.
Alas, I am lazy. I just want to get it out there… Catch the likes; catch the comments. Fuck the quality! “They” know what I mean… Don’t they? I mean, they read me! Not too much need for exposition, ya? ‘They git it, eh?’
(Lance removes tongue-from-cheek)
Just some musings from an amusing, dazed and confusing, wanna-be writer/blogger. Take with however many grains of salt you require.
(And Comment),
If you’re of a mind to, and/or have an opinion on the ‘writing/blogging’ process.
Cheers, Lancers
***
Well, I do not seem capable of shutting the hell up…
“I had the right to remain silent, but I didn’t have theability.”
Credit: Ron White (Texan!)
“I have never had an original thought; I don’t live in a vacuum.”
–Lenny Bruce
And if this ain’t poignant for today… Well then. I do not know what is, or could be ‘is.’
Take a listen: All ‘Policemans’ in NYC might even appreciate. If they can read, that is…
(Just Kidding!)
And I wanna be ‘Your Lenny‘
There is a vid credit, but I lost it. His lawyers will surely contact mine…Right here on TT&H
****
Moving on…
Now, this is some strange form of Serendipitous Bullshit.But I didn’t look it in the mouth; I appreciated my opportunity.
“a Stone Age talent-search television program that pre-dated “American Idol” by half a century. It might also be described as a pre-Pleistocene “Gong Show” — though it lacked the gong and snarky host, Chuck Barris.”
“Rocket to Stardom” was a psychotherapist’s dream: a slow-motion train wreck distributed via TV for rubberneckers and the unhinged.
The Los Angeles Times once referred to it as a “freak show,” and in some respects it was. But a number of amateurs who appeared on the show were able to launch successful performing careers. Sitting atop that list is Duane Eddy, a Grammy Award winner who’s been called the greatest rock ‘n’ roll instrumentalist of all time.
And as come to be expected, Word-Depressed will not allow me to edit this as I would like to.
The above is obviously Kris Kristofferson and sorta germane to the subject matter of this post. And thank Y’all once again if you have made it this far. Your time spent here is always appreciated.
