“Visit. Comment. (sincerely comment) Read. Read. Read. And Then Read some more.”
Then comment some more.
Rinse and repeat.
Then the folks will come.
Works ever’ time.
And… it’s good for the soul.
Good for Our Community of Souls, some lost, some found, and all manner of in between, but there are no more appreciative for time spent than writers / bloggers.
So, therefore, Give a Little of Yourself to your lost and found, and searching fellow souls.
I stole this from Sam Clemens. I hope you like it a lot. (I do)
I don’t know how long I was asleep, but all of a sudden there was an awful scream and I was up. There was pap looking wild, and skipping around every which way and yelling about snakes.
He said they was crawling up his legs; and then he would give a jump and scream, and say one had bit him on the cheek–but I couldn’t see no snakes.
He started and run round and round the cabin, hollering “Take him off! take him off! he’s biting me on the neck!” I never see a man look so wild in the eyes.
Pretty soon he was all fagged out, and fell down panting; then he rolled over and over wonderful fast, kicking things every which way, and striking and grabbing at the air with his hands, and screaming and saying there was devils a-hold of him.
He wore out by and by, and laid still a while, moaning. Then he laid stiller, and didn’t make a sound. I could hear the owls and the wolves away off in the woods, and it seemed terrible still. He was laying over by the corner. By and by he raised up part way and listened, with his head to one side. He says, very low:
“Tramp–tramp–tramp; that’s the dead; tramp–tramp–tramp; they’re coming after me; but I won’t go. Oh, they’re here! don’t touch me –don’t! hands off–they’re cold; let go. Oh, let a poor devil alone!”
Then he went down on all fours and crawled off, begging them to let him alone, and he rolled himself up in his blanket and wallowed in under the old pine table, still a-begging; and then he went to crying. I could hear him through the blanket.
By and by he rolled out and jumped up on his feet looking wild, and he see me and went for me. He chased me round and round the place with a clasp-knife, calling me the Angel of Death, and saying he would kill me, and then I couldn’t come for him no more.
I begged, and told him I was only Huck; but he laughed SUCH a screechy laugh, and roared and cussed, and kept on chasing me up.
Once when I turned short and dodged under his arm he made a grab and got me by the jacket between my shoulders, and I thought I was gone; but I slid out of the jacket quick as lightning, and saved myself.
Pretty soon he was all tired out, and dropped down with his back against the door, and said he would rest a minute and then kill me. He put his knife under him, and said he would sleep and get strong, and then he would see who was who.
So he dozed off pretty soon. By and by I got the old split-bottom chair and clumb up as easy as I could, not to make any noise, and got down the gun.
I slipped the ramrod down it to make sure it was loaded, then I laid it across the turnip barrel, pointing towards pap, and set down behind it to wait for him to stir. And how slow and still the time did drag along.
That I find myself re-posting this one. But in light of the recent Supreme Court decision regarding, ‘Hobby Lobby’, I just cannot keep quiet. If my words offend, I apologize now for the offense. But I never apologize for my mores. Some things won’t change.
Cheers to all my friends and readers. I am nothing, if not sincere.
–Lance
***
di·lem·ma
noundə-ˈle-mə also dī-
: a situation in which you have to make a difficult choice
If you stare at this long enough, the clouds start to move. Go ahead, try it. (You know you want to)
I really want to quit posting for today and I really want to visit all my friend’s blogs and I really want to make some really witty and cool statements so that they will really love me…and yet… I cannot shut the fuck up.
But I always tell me, I say, “Hey! Me! You can make new friends out there!”
I say, “But I love the friends I have already made.”
“Fuck ’em! The other me says.”
I grow some balls and kick my ‘other me to the curb.”
Why? Because a friend lost, hurts me.
Honestly
(You thought I was gonna say ‘really’ didn’t ya?)
Especially, if it comes from my vanity and my stupid forgetful lazy neglect. That hurts the worst.
Deeply.
Because, that one… should be preventable.
Therefore I leave you with this (Yes. I did have a point)
How many out there feel or felt upon one time, that you were just a “Doll Part?”
(Yeah, that sounds gay)
And NO Offense to any of my gay friends out there: it is just an expression. (I think–if it offends–let me know)
(Really–now you just knew–I had to slip that last one in, under some covers)
Then…
Get over it.
Answer the question and move on.
*End of Rant*
Below is a visual aid:
Ed. Note: Lance is one stupid son of a bitch.
This video below is significant to many of my friends who have suffered domestic violence. In the dark recesses of my feeble fucking mind, I knew this, yet I put the video in anyway.
Why? Because I love Love (Courtney)
That is no excuse. I need some sensitivity training. I am going to leave the video in this post, but now for different reasons: People Need To Wake Up To The Fact that here in this country and all over the world, there are women being abused.
Right NOW. Something has to be done. To quote Christopher Hitchens:
“The quickest way to end poverty is to empower women. Empower woman. Give them control of their reproductive bodies. Give them education. Let them have jobs.”
That is a paraphrase. But you can Google it, or I will do it for you. Next time I edit this stupid, thoughtless, insensitive post.
New Ed. Note: As promised hours ago…
And here we go with….Lenny!
And Yes! I am going to continue to post shit that is on my mind. Ad nauseam.
, BUT nEVER CAN GET FUCKIN’ LAID! & FUCKIN’ FATIG yEAH!’D=odd dam (Dat’s French! Y’all! I am so fukkin’ sick of LANCE! sOMEONE SHOOT this FUCKER! rIGHT bETEEN THE FUK-in’ EYES! IN THE FUKKIN G EYEE!
so Pissed off at that God! You know the one! THAT ONE WHO NEVER EXISTED! HE SOLD ME A BILL GOODS! hIS ASS was writing writing was writing Checks He Was Never Gonna CASh!
What as ASS! hOLE! What’s It All About?
THIS HAS TURNED INTO A RANT! DO NOT READ IT! It is Insulting, Disrespectful,
And It WILL PISS YOU OFF! wILL sEVeREallLY PISS YOU ofF! I really wante to FUCKING BELIEVE! BUT I LEAR’ND TO READ! MY HUGE FUKKIN’ MONU-MENTAL FUCK-UP!!!!! Fuk this! My mental mind is BLOWN!!! AWAY! (i may be havin’ some “issues”)—insanity ones! And I cannot spel nor typy fer caca!
i should learn how to
MEND MY FUCKIN’ SPEECH A BIT!
naw!
FUK THAT! tHAT would BORE y’all! My Largess fukking FEAR is to become “borin’ & Dict-able!— Pre-Dict- Un-able! to wRITE THE true Shit Surfaces in my FUKKING BRAIN
Tropical Fish is all we sold. (and a few-odd Crustaceans–just for fun)
This Monty Python bit cracks me up.
Customer walks into my store.
“My guppy died.”
(I had a three-day guarantee on any fish I sold–it was a gimmick, but I honored it.)
“Madame did you put the chlorine removal drops into your ‘guppy-tank?”
“The whaaa? ” she said.
*Heavy sigh* from me
“Ok. I will give you a new guppy and some free chlorine removal drops. Use them this time.”
I think she then told me to go fuck myself and said something about going to Ben Franklin’s up the street.
Benny Franklin sold guppies back in them days.
(And apparently their guppies were made of sterner stuff. )
And hopefully Benny Frank would throw in some Chlorine Removal Drops—but this Broad was probably too stupid to understand how to use them—the process and procedure was beyond her capacity of understanding.
“Bon voyage,” I said to her back as she departed my life (Hopefully Forever.)
Added Value:
“All the Reasons Why”
Not really related, but I like it.
Not certain why.
But I drop it in–just like a chlorine-removal drop.
“We are exorcising ‘Drama’ from this Blog” (and I took the offensive post out back and shot it right between the eyes and now I am gonna quit banging on about it and move on.)
Now that is a noble sentiment, but one which will probably not be realized.
Therefore I implore you to take some things with a golf-ball-size grain of salt. Nothing should be taken personal, yet saying this, I do take everything personal. That is MY wont; does not have to be yours.
So now, I apologize in advance for any future hurtful shit I may spew: it is not directed at you. (Unless, of course you are from Oklahoma. Just Kidding! My Okie Brethren!)
Now I am gonna play some computer golf as I watch “The Players Tournament” –Lance
“Apologizing — a very desperate habit — one that is rarely cured. Apology is only egotism wrong side out”
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., The Professor at the Breakfast-Table
Okay,
Let’s ‘adddemdumb this just a mite (yes, think I have already clarified my feelings for mites)
Point is, “ya pay yer money; ya take yer chances.”
Now, to the unknowing, that may smack of “Lance done took back his apology.”
Well Hell! Not at all.
But. But. BUT!
A Man, a MAN! Sez, “Shucks. I’m real sorry.” Then he walks out the door and goes away.
That’s all I am saying.
P.S. If anyone reads this I will give you a Mickey Mouse Pencil Sharpener and a box of chocolates!
