Someone Recently ‘Discovered’ This—So Natch! What Does Lance Do? Re-Spams It!

Where is My Mind? Oh! there You Are.

Where You Been All-My-Life?

Hahaha!

“The Reports Of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated.” –Mark Twain

(And Now Shamelessly Stolen By Lance Marcom)

***

My HERO!

Unknown Brain – Dead (ft. KAZHI)

Laughing My Fu*king Ass Off!

This is a True, Recent Story:

Not Something From ‘The Archives.’

No Names Have Been Changed To Protect Innocents

Because I Don’t Know Any Innocents

*****

It was recently brought to my attention that there is a rumor making the circuit in My Home Town of Honey Grove:

“Lance Marcom was Found Dead.”

(Not sure where or why or how they found me, but those would just be superfluous details—no need for them—not in a small Texas Town)  

And ‘THOSE‘ would (most likely) just be Tales Told By Idiots, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing

–Sorry Will

Of course this made me laugh hysterically—and also made my day—no such thing as ‘bad press’ for a wanna-be fledgling writer.

So, ‘Thank-You-Very-Mucho-Much’ to whoever started this story.

While I was still laughing my ass off on the phone with my very good old friend who had brought this News to me, a brilliant idea began to gestate in my mind:

“Hey Johnny! Let’s run with this. You tell everyone that you have confirmed the veracity of this report. Then you set up a GoFundMe page for the Funeral Expenses—Should Fly—My Poverty is Well-Documented.

We’ll split the ‘Charitable’ Proceeds 50/50.”

(I have always had a bit of larceny in my bones and in my genes and in my heart)

“I’m on it.” said Johnny, “But do you honestly think anyone gives a shit about “Lance Marcom?”

“Print Up some Flyers; scatter them around in Ladonia–the ‘Marcom Name’ still carries a bit of weight there, Because of My Grandfather.

You know of him. He was the Town Doctor who would accept chickens, or pigs, or heifers, in lieu of money. He was loved and belov’d.”

I detected a ‘smirk’ (Remotely–on my Smart-Phone) crawling all-over-the-face of my Friend at the mention of ‘Heifers.’

“Johnny, they were ‘four-legg’d heifers–that’s all.’ My Grandfather Marcom was a Fucking Methodist!

And Allow me to reiterate.

I’ve been riding fare-free and care-free on his ‘Fame-Train’ all my life. “

Plan Incubated and Hatched—Now for the execution of same—no Pun

*******

As an aside, if the Police Do Get Involved, The Numero-Uno Prime Suspect Will Be Guess Who?

Yep

*******

“I’m not dead.  I feel fine. Think I’ll go for a walk…”

Causally Related:

It Was Just A False Alarm. Screw It! “This is Really Stupid, But I Re-Post it Anyway. “When The Men On The Chessboard Get Up & Tell You Where To Go…”

I have spent no less than fifteen years in war zones.

All over the world.

Does this make me special?

Bet your ass it does.

I’ve see some shit.

Lived some shit.

Lost good friends.

Made new ones.

Moved on.

I’m gonna ‘Unplug’ for a spell:

For Mental Health Reasons

(Of Course All Y’all Faithful, Regular Readers Know I’m Lying–But It was Fun To Type That Lie: Just One of Life’s Simple Pleasures.)

Catch Y’all On The Flip-Flop…

And don’t forget to follow the white rabbit-

Down The rabbit hole—

If you dare,

I’ll meet you there.

Or if you require a second opinion…

Go ask Alice.

(I think she’ll know.)

*****

(Or The The Dormouse)

And Just-In-Case Somebody Wants to ‘Call Me Out’ On My Spelling:

dormouse is a rodent of the family Gliridae (this family is also variously called Myoxidae or Muscardinidae by different taxonomists). Dormice are nocturnal animals found in Africa, Asia, and Europe, and are particularly known for their long periods of hibernation

*****

(“Hibernation” is probably an option I should Explore.)

****

*****

****

*****

Go Ahead: Feed Your Head.

Feed Your Head.

Feed Your Head!

******

For Amelia, Grace, Janis, Karen, Janet, Ela, Sheila, Rhonda, & and Five Dozen Others & More:

Too many mountains and not enough stairs to climb
Too many churches and not enough truth to find
Too many people and not enough eyes to see
Too many lives to lead and not enough time

She’s gone too far

She’s lost the sun

She’s come undone

Vid Street Cred: jthyme

******

Too many lives to lead and not enough time

Too many lives to lead and not enough time

Too many lives to lead and not enough time

*****

And when she found out she couldn’t fly

It was too late

MS Icarus

Justin Case…

(Well, You Already Know)

*****

Like Icarus Ascending,

Amelia,

It Was Just A False Alarm.

(Street Cred Vid: sonicboy19)

A most beautiful, wonderful tribute.

Sung by a most beautiful wonderful woman.

Thank you Joni:

“Maybe I’ve Never Really Loved:

I Guess That Is The Truth…”

*****

Anyone Who Reads Me

Knows How Much I love & Admire

Great Women.

Guess What?

Amelia Earhart

Is One of the Greatest, Bravest vet o’ Of Them ALL!!

Yep. My Mind Has Gone Awry: Into That ‘Null-an’ Void Territory’–The Black Hole ‘Land Of The Time Sink’– “Meet Mr. Lance, BROADCAST NEWS JUNKIE”

Into The Perilous Void:

Richard Pryor: The Wino and The Junkie

“Better Lay Off That Narcotic Ni*gger”:

“That Shit Done Made You Null And Void”

*****

Yes, this is a ‘Shit Post’

F*ck it!

Watch the below vid.

You will laugh your ass off.

Ditto this one below

Vid Cred: MAD LAB

***

But this is a light-hearted Shit Post, mocking me even more than I mock Broadcast News: CNN, MSNBC, Fox, Etcetera & Ad Nausea

And I am stalling, waiting for MS Muse to respond to my recent

Proposal of Marriage

She is sitting on the couch as I type these words.

(Yeah, she came home after the lights and water were restored)

I am beginning to find her a ‘fair-weather’ muse. Just sayin’.

Don’t matter. I still love her.

She had all her props:

  • Glass of Pinot.
  • Virginia Slim
  • Cell Phone
  • IPad
  • NY Times, Washington Post, And Waco Weekly Wipe
  • Attitude

Yeah. There’s that.

Always that.

Always That Attitude: Nuclear Option

*****

This post cannot stand alone on my prose.

The vids are requisite.

“I just have to look good; I don’t have to be clear.”

The volume is borked. So CRANK it up. (Video Credit: Video Music, via The YouTubes—Duh!)

Love Broadcast News.

Love Mocking Broadcast News.

Love the Eye-Candy ‘Info-Babes’ on Broadcast News. (Broadcast News puts the ‘Broad’ in News)

Andrea Tantaros CNN Bra Size & Measurements

Andrea Tantaros: CNN, Bra Size & Measurements

Guys, you know you want me to drop the link.

No!

Suffer in Silence

*******

Love that I harbor no true malice toward Broadcast News, but G’damn! they are so transparent with their bias.

Added Value: Holly-Go-Lightly

I sincerely hope you have enjoyed this brief interlude shit post I wrote while cooling my heels waiting for MS Muse to respond to my Proposal of Marriage

Cheers!

(‘Story at Eleven’)

*****

Bonus ‘Added Value’

Credit to John Ward: Genius Man

“No, it’s awful.”

My Cross to bear

My Spirit ‘Man-able’: Ted Koppel

Video Compilation Credit Below: iLoveChrisCuomo

Uh… Homo-Erotica?

CNN: The Most Trusted Name In News?

Am I homo-phobic?

No! But these two wear me out!

Some of my Best Friends are Fags (This is a JOKE BTW!)

“I love you Don Lemon.”

You never fail to entertain.

Now Please Excuse me while I puke—‘vacuate’ my stomach.

And my mind.

“The Memes Become Reality”

–IanMilesCheong

Don & Chris:

Two Marshmallows Colliding in Mid-Air:

Ignore the below, the last on your radio dial, because WordPress is FUCKED UP!

Won’t let me delete it!

It just keeps spinning ‘round an’ ‘round sucking up bandwidth.

Bandwidth I have not to spare,

Nor desire to share.

Fuck you WordPress!

“Uploading” it perpetually says.

Hey Whore-Press!

How ‘bout I ‘upload’ my Nine Millimeter into your dome?

How would that grab ya?

Add-Din-Dumb:

I got ‘on the horn’ w/WP

Kind service rep fixed my problem.

Toot Sweet

All-in-all, WP has Great Customer Service.

No denying that.

I take back my un-happy words hurled at WordPress… until the next time…

I Love My Muse –When She’s In A Good Mood & In Town–Just Hangin’ Around… Another Example Of How I Tempt Fate With My Abusive Muse

I cannot–Just Could Not resist.

Because I am a Simple-Minded, Dumb-Ass Sailor.

Apropos and Poignant Songs For Our Current Current.

(But ‘Don’t Let It Bring You Down’—‘Sorry Neil’)

Y’all Know I am Ninety Percent Positive and Upbeat.

So, My Mood WILL Improve with just a little ‘liquid propulsion.’

“Hey Muse! Reach Me A Beer! I am a Man Indeed in Need!”

MS Muse saunters over, smacks the shit outta Me, Up-Side My Head, then says,

“That is all what you ‘Need.’ Now get back to work and STOP SHIT-POSTING.”

(Guess I will be fetching my own beers from now on.)

“Dogs Eat Dogs. Cats Eat Rats. Rats Eat Roaches. Big Fish Eat Smaller Fishes,

But Humans Eat Earth,

And Shit Her Out.

Then Just Walk Away.

(Please Watch this one—it does not end when you think it should)

I LOVE you Joni!

Artifice, brutality, and innocence

“The Perfect Girl: She Is All That Matters”

Lord Knows, I Have Had A Few…

The Beat Of Beat Goes On

“Keep The Drinks Comin’ Girl, ’till I can’t Feel Anything.”

Fun Fact (Justin Case You Missed It) :

Joni Is The Soldier In The Video.

Shallow, Empty Lives, Devoid of Substance (But at Least We Retain Our Shiny Toys)

BONUS TRACK:

All these songs belong to Joni

(But Y’all knew that already)

Yep. I stole them.

But Joni and I are ‘tight’–She forgives me.

There is one exception:

The one I stole from Neil Young

Gentle Readers:

If Y’all Frequent My Blog It Is Less Painful if You are a ‘Joni Fan.’

Just sayin’.

*******

Just for Convenience, and out of respect and fondness for my Readers,

I drop in this Lancelot, Secret Chimp

Missing Link

To ‘Abusive Muse’

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

Just stop and say “Hello in There” ever’ once in a while.

(But not to me: I am an asshole)

Whoops E Lazy–Bat-Shit Crazy-Daisy! Already Experiencing Second Thoughts

J.Geco – Chicken Song:

George Carlin-Ratshit Batshit (69 assholes tied in a knot):

Cred: Buggs

***

Yes. Yes. I know what I said (wrote).

And I was sober when I wrote it.

And I meant ever’ word.

When I wrote it.

But

I am suffering second thoughts.

But I love sharing vids, photos, images, gifs, and even, sometimes, writing… and all that jazz. Never thinking all these ‘added value’ adds did not enrich my posts, I just kept on doing it. Doing it to the point whereby I thought I was getting pretty damn good at it. But I may be deluding myself.

It is just FUN to ‘Build’ Posts using such ‘crutches’ as I call them. But if I do not use the tools available to me, am I not doing a disservice to my readers? (All five of you—yes—my ‘hits’ have expanded exponentially of late. Don’t know why)

I mean, a lot of thoughts (Mine) go into selecting all of that “Added” Value (Theirs). But Nothing is happenstance.

No Brag; Just Fact…

Yet

I am not Poe.

I am not Shakespeare.

I am not Hemingway.

Shit, I ain’t even Ogden Nash.

But, I CAN write decent ‘stand-alone’ shit.

Perhaps I can do both.

Use the multi-media ‘added value’ to grab the attention.

But also, spend more time actually doing ‘serious’ writing. Most certainly I have the time. I got no woman to distract me (Alas). I have no job (Not Alas) I have my health (For now) What is to stop me?

***

It is my very heart-felt desire to make your visits here entertaining.

And worth your while for a little while.

To make you laugh.

To make you smile.

To make you feel just a little bit better about shit.

To entertain you, even if just for a fleeting moment.

***

Most of Y’all never watch the added value stuff anyway. And I have honestly admitted that most of the time, it is added for my own entertainment and edification.

Not unlike a fool who laughs at his own jokes.

(I am trying real hard to go somewhere with this—to convey heart-felt musings—wish my muse had not left me. –Old series, which some of you have read: “Abusive Muse”)

Anyhow,

Trying to tie-up these thoughts:

I respect my readers.

I respect the time of my readers.

I want to entertain my readers.

I want my readers to enjoy themselves when they come into “My House” for a visit.

“Come in. Set a spell. Take your shoes off. Y’all come back now, ya hear?”

Please HBO here (Help a Brother Out)

I value Y’all’s opinion.

Really need some feedback on this one Kids.

(Not fishin’ for compliments, nor accolades, just honest opinions. Do Y’all enjoy the Multi-Media Stuff, or does it more than bore you?)

Thank You

Drive Thru.

And tanks fer Yer Support

This Post is in Such Serious Desperation for an Edification, or Maybe an Enema. Or Maybe Le Both-A–Shittin and A-Goin’ From Both Ends—Simultaneous.

Because I’m A Fukking Idiot. & A Chocolate Mess! And I Approach Life with a Laissez-faire Philosophy. i.e., I do Not Give A Shit. “Escape From Memphis–Chapter Le One”–Re-Load–Have Fun!

This Never Happened To Me

When I Got Out Of The Naveee!

Alas!

Kiss Mine Ass

(I lived Over It)

Ed. Note to All You Nattering Nabobs of Nay-Sayers down there in the ‘Commentary Section’:
I say this:
‘This is “My Side” of the Story!’
Read Between the Lines if You Must.

(Or feel compelled.)

*****

Lance, No Longer Down an’ Out In

Memphis, Tennessee:

Street Vid Cred: kndfbl

Joni! Joni! Joni!

I Love You!

You Are Such a Large Part of My So-Called Life!

******

Credit: Marc Cohn

*****

And SCREW YOU WORDPRESS For Not Allowing Me to Delete this below BROKEN Up-Load!!!

Stuck on STUPID.

******

 

She just sat there on the front porch, smoking Camel Blues, sipping diet Dr. Pepper, and watching as I scurried back and forth, worker ant-like, schlepping boxes and boxes and boxes and sundry other shit to my Ford.
Never said a word.
Never shed a tear.
I was leaving her!
What the fuck?
No tears?
No desperation?
No tears?
No tears?
No tears?
No nada?
English!
English!
English!

(You live with Meskins, expect beans on the menu, ever’ once in a while.)
English!
Stiff upper lip and all that jazz…

After I had packed the Ford to the point of tightness unimagined (you could have poured a bottle of Jim Beam into it and not one drop would escape), I walked to the front porch and announced,

“Well, I guess that’s it then.”
“You’re leaving now?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan,” I said.
She stood up, looked me in the eye. I threw my arms around her and hugged her deep.
Now we were both crying.
I managed to blurt out something profound…
“I’m so sorry Helen.”

“Take good care of you,” she said, blinking back the tears.
I slow-walked to the Ford, looking back through MY tears only once. Got in, cranked her up and drove away.
The part where the cowboy rides away…
Took me a block an’ a half to stop crying.
Then I was so over it.
And her.

Four blocks later I realized I could not see out of my side-view rear-view mirror. My dismantled computer chair in the passenger seat was blocking my vision. This would never do. I pulled into a vacant parking lot and jettisoned said computer chair.
Just left it there in the dust.
With my life.

Merry Early Fucking Christmas to someone.
Some homeless one in Memphis.
And drove on, westward.
Nine minutes later at sixty-five miles per hour, I was crossing the Big Muddy and entering Arkansas.
I had achieved escape velocity.
I turned on the radio.
Loud and proud.

CDB was screaming something about Trudy and telephones.
And calling her.
And jail.
I cranked it up and sang along.
Very happy and oh so fucking proud of me.
My new life had just begun.
Just another tequila sunrise.
As I drove west with the sun over my shoulder.
So many thoughts were flying around in my head, gnat like… buzzing.
I was almost giddy.
I was staring down six hours of road trip.

No big deal, but it had been almost ten years since I had taken to the road or air or sea, and I was just a mite apprehensive.
“You can do this Lance,” I whispered to me over the radio, now playing Van Morrison.
“Hear That Robin Sing.’
Hours and hours and hours into Arkansas (when did Arkansas get so fucking BIG?)

I found a trucker’s rest stop and so I stopped.
And rested.
And pee’d.
Had to.
Walked about
Had to.
Stretched my legs.
Had to.

“Where is Texas?” Halfway through Arkansas…. And halfway from what I had called ‘home’ for ten years.
“What am I doing?”
“Going West, Young Man, Goin’ West.”
“Oh yeah, I almost had forgotten.”
By and by I hit the “border”
(On the border)

Wanted to stop and take a selfie in front of the sign what read, “Welcome To Texas, Drive Friendly.” But it was Interstate and not safe to do so, so I just kept on driving.
And singing at me!

“Texas! Oh Texas!”
“You are finally home, Cowboy!”
Now what?
Keep driving, I suppose.

I had pre-arranged a ‘garage’ to store my shit.
A ‘rent-a-space’ shed in Commerce.
Got a phone call from the proprietor….

“Lance, you still coming?”
“Yeah, fast as I can, but I will not arrive in time for your departure. Can you HBO? Help a brother out? I will arrive Commerce about 1800 hours…. Leave the key in the lock box or something; I want to off-load my shit before I go to the hotel.”
“Sure, got a CC number for me?”
“Yeah, no worries.”

That sorted, I drove on.
Presently I arrived Sulphur Springs.
And promptly got lost.
Could not find the road to Commerce.
Well, shit!
It had been some years and beers and tears since I had had to make this trek.

Finally found the proper road and guess what?
It was ‘under construction’ as they do.
Took me some few little minutes to navigate through that, but…. Finally… on the road again.

Commerce in my sights now.
Sped into town, saw Whitley Hall, High Rise and shouted out loud: HOME!
“Thank fucking God!’
(And this was a push for me, for as you know, I am an atheist)
Found the ‘rent-a-shed’ and off-loaded my shit.
Went to the Adult Beverage Store.
Then found the Magnuson, formally known as “The Holiday Inn Express,” checked in, and got very, very, very drunk.

Chapter Two Coming…
Whew!
Chapter One is Done!
Writing is hard!

As is my wont, I drop in music.
Music defines me, and yes, my life has a soundtrack.
I suppose this don’t make me nothing special.
Just yet one more schmuck.
Trying to get by.
And Waiting for Godot
(Vain reference from my college / university daze.)

Beautiful Loser

Read it on the wall.
Blue moon with heartache.
Nick of time

“Scared you’ll run outta time.”
Love has no pride
This old cowboy—MTB

Escape From Memphis–Chapter Two

Part threee may be discovered here:

New Life.  Video Credit: Cool Coyote  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9mNquw1Fc7beFfQ8OpnjRQ

Blinking back the tears.

Dont’ Toss Us Away So Thoughtlessly

Yeah I Screwed up the punctuation.

Screw punct-U-a shun— and spelling too