Are Manners a Lost Art?

This makes more sense to me than all my ‘recent rants’ combined and then doubled.
Thank You Anna.

“For as long as I can remember I have suffered from a deep feeling of

Wow’zer.
(If you have not, to yet, visited this man’s art page… Do so now)
Wonderful.
Wonderful ‘Stuff’ to be found.
There

Art of Quotation

munchgwp “For as long as I can remember I have suffered from a deep feeling of anxiety which I have tried to express in my art.”

– Edvard Munch, 1863 – 1944, Norwegian, painter, printmaker (self-portrait)


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I Am Tim

For some of y’all regular (read: ‘Old-Timers’-visitors’ to my blog), you may recognize this link to SS.
For you new amongst us, maybe you should just ‘stay calm and carry on.’
Either way, I appreciate your comments and your visits, and no!

I am not Tim.
Well, at least not today. Maybe tomorrow.
‘Stray’ Tuned….

And yeah! SS is one of my favorite sites…

And yes! Tell her I sent ya!

(I am trying to get her to ‘like’ me.)

Not!!!! Not really; I am just pushing her buttons.

Cheers,

Lanc’d

And Lenny (and Christopher) Lives (again) Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid (sic)

Below please find today’s bit:

(May be offensive to people of faith)

(If you are religious, you may have swerved into the wrong page.)

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.

Video Credit:

therealtalkpolitics

The Lenny Bit (Religion Inc) Listen if You Please:

Oral_Sucker_Born

Oral Roberts

Billy_Time_Mag

JohnXXIII

Pope John XXIII

lifecover_spellman

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More Lenny Here:

https://texantales.com/category/lenny-bruce/

Thanks For Listening

And just for fun:

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.

Now that!

That!

That is good advice!

Thank you, Nameless Person.

 

Hey! I’m Writing Here! (Once Again)

Now, C’mon Y’all.

Vid Credit: Guyism

I am just having fun, exploring (exploiting?) some of my inane, insane, In-Same, recent posts.

And of course, I love to ‘share my wares.’ Because I am just that vain (don’t ask me why or how I justify that statement.)

So there!

If I post something you have already ready read, sorry…

New shit will be forthcoming.

And soon. And I promise. And the check is in the mail and I won’t… do that in… “Ah don’t go there Lance.”

But, in the meantime:

And not to put too fine a point on it (trite, yep): My writing and my posts are ‘all over some places…’  But ‘Twould behoove to follow some of the links, as I find them entertaining. (Your individual experience may vary, and even differ, or beg to)

***

Hey! I’m writing here!

(Fleeting thoughts seem to fly away. Okay? That’s Okay, Right? Isn’t it?)

Credit: https://www.youtube.com/user/mattfosternow

It is easy

“Now Go fuck off and leave me alone. And while you are leavin’ me alone, make me some more coffee.”

“Please.”

“and thanks for the pepperoni.”

(Sorry.. vague Lenny Bruce reference)

I actually said this aloud to my much maligned invisible muse. Bless her heart.

The dog walked over to me an inquired, “Hey! Rance!” (he cannot pronounce my name. He is a dog after all) “Rance,” he said. “You OK Bubba?”

(Overheard by some fly on some wall in some other multi-verse.)

Probably it was just the wind.

***

‘Tax Day’ (they say) Means nada to me: means  Bupkis! (great Yiddish word: use it in a sentence today and then it is yours for all of maternity)

Why? “‘Cause I had no income last year. That’s why!”

Oy vey! Yep! Good thing ‘bout that there: No taxes.

Moving on to today’s post…

(Oh yeah: first order of business: “The Daily Lenny”)

Well, You May Find it here, whisked into a long post about a mechanic. Yes. You will have to work to find it. So Sorry.

Let us paws for a second.

(Goddamnit Lance! Enuff with the fucking puns!)

Take a breath.

“This is swerving dangerously close to being another rant.”

*sigh*

“Yes. I know.”

*Moving on…*

Now Where was I?

Oh Yeah!

Taxes!

Not really.

CNN?

Nope (but theirBreaking Newsis ‘bout to break my spirit and my capacity to love anyone)

Serious for one second. I weep for those family who lost family on That Plane.

*Whew! Now we got that sentiment out of the way…*

Still trying to Move On Dot Org…

(Just kidding—I do not even know where that is)

More Breaking Fucking News!

Some idiot on CNN just said, “Let us be Frank.” (and Tom, Dick, and Harry)

(not sure in reference to what—generally—I only half-listen, but that one caught some vacant, unused part of my ear)

*Still trying to move on and find a purpose for this purposeless post*

Y’all know what?

This is gonna be an “all-day” project.

There is just too much shit running about in my head.

I will get back you.

As they say:

To be continued…

Don’t mess with my Zen, man.

The Blog site is a treasure y’all!
Trust me: I have spent the better part of the last hour reading posts here and I cannot stop LAUGHING OUT LOUD.
Seriously worth your time!
Don’t blame me if you don’t check it out! (Uh, That probably makes no sense at all… Just go and check it OUT already. Thank me later. Or better still, thank the author)

Spoken Like A True Nut

Things my office has in common with the innermost depths of an Egyptian pyramid:

1) They’re both silent as the grave.
2) Those who disturb that silence will be cursed.

U mad, Imhotep?

This is how we like it here. Quiet. Peaceful. Contemplative.

And after more years working in customer service than I care to remember, listening to the same god-awful corporate radio playlist on a loop and enduring verbal beatdowns from customers because they thought Yogurt A was on sale, not Yogurt B, and by god, they WILL have their 10¢ discount if they have to escalate all the way to the regional manager, I prize my quiet workplace.

Safely ensconced in my muted accounting haven, I am under no obligation to suffer fools who won’t take two seconds to read something before they come pestering me for the information instead. I do not need to listen to…

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Faults

Now this, this is just priceless and I can so very much…. Identify!

intrinsickness

My girlfriend was perfect. Her hair, her skin, her smile, her grade point average, her charitable acts. She left the bathroom smelling better than when she entered. Her shit literally smelt like lilacs.

Her entire effing family was perfect. Doctors, superheroes, and philanthropists all. They liked rescuing abused animals and volunteering free medical advise on the weekends. Her grandfather had won both a Nobel prize and a Pulitzer. Her brother was on the front page of the paper after he pulled a homeless man off the subway tracks moments before he was pulverized by train. I don’t know why I had such a hang up about it, but I just did.

When I first met her I was so happy, so stoked to have found someone so perfect. I wasn’t sure what she saw in me, but that didn’t matter at the time. Eventually she began to seem too perfect…

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Time In A Bottle (Please Pour It Out)

Kerbey’s Site is a MUST View.

Related:

On the street where I lived.

 

I Don't Get It

The Pied Piper and Her/His/Its Band of Loons The Pied Piper and Her/His/Its Band of Loons

I realize one day I will have to defend the 1980s to my son. He will ask the big questions, and I will do my best to make sense of that decade. Everything in excess, big and sprayed and sparkly. But NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING can defend the 1970s. What were you thinking? The entire country did not collectively drop acid in 1973, but you could have fooled me. Witness this scene from Indiana University.

IndianaU1973011

I realize the times, they were a-changing. The times are always a-changing. I understand that having your friends and family drop dead right and left in a war we didn’t win was no picnic. In fact, I read just today about a six-foot college man who weighed 145 lbs at the time he was drafted and forced himself to drop down to 123 (officially underweight) to fail his…

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Love isn’t free. It cost plenty. “Worn and torn love”

Just Had to Reblog…
Read, Read, Read!

I wish to comment on John’s writing style:

It moves me.

Add your own comments below; won’t cost you nothing.

johncoyote

ps_2010_12_08___12_07_03

Worn and torn love

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

"

Some memories leave permanent scars.

"

Warning
This Poem is rated Mature and may contain material unsuitable for readers under 18.

Worn and torn love
Written on 8 April 1985

(For Angela. A lost and confused young lady.
I tries to pick her up and show her life was OK.
I hope she found peace?)

She never allowed me to understand her pain.
Pretending to be someone else.

Acting out parts like a woman in a cheap porno movie.

I’m sorry if she were abused.
Unable to untangle the disorder in her
heart and mind.

My life wasn’t always so organized and demented.

Finding joy and pleasure in the consumption and
digesting of new young woman flesh.

Her brown eyes.
Looks into my eyes.
Tries to find one reason to stay.

I wrote a simple poem for her.

“Sweet Angela
So beautiful.

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“Art is a magic which makes the hours melt away and…”

This is a compelling and enlightening look inside the life of Leonora Carrington; someone I had never even heard of until I saw this at Moorezart. I love this woman.

Art of Quotation

leonora wp

“Art is a magic which makes the hours melt away and even days dissolve into seconds” – Leonora Carrington, painter

LEONORA CARRINGTON (1917 – 2011) was an English-born surrealist artist and writer who has lived in Mexico since the Second World War. She was the last surviving original member of the celebrated group of 20th-century women Surrealist artists who came together in Paris which included Leonor Fini, Frida Kahlo (co-opted by André Breton), Lee Miller, Meret Oppenheim and Remedios Varo. This video is an excerpt from the film GIFTED BEAUTY (Ragg Film, 2000) which examines the work of all six artists along with that of the contemporary Norwegian artist Vilde von Krogh….  For more see the following video which was filmed prior to her death in 2011:

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Fairness of The Fairway

With permission I submit this wonderful post.
Thank you RD.

(Please visit the original to get the full benefit with the photos)

Here is a sample

golf-experiences-1

The Mind of RD REVILO

  • The Doctor CameIn
  • She couldn’t have a child of her own
  • In the cells of Hell
  • The heights of Heaven
  • The Saints could hear her mournful groan
  • Then came a divine option
  • Her Sister-in-Law had a child for adoption
  • She met him, her heart rang with glee
  • Especially when she heard that word, Mommy
  • Inseparable became those two
  • Tighter than a vice, thicker than goo
  • They traveled the world and learned things
  • They never knew
  • She would smile and smile
  • Poor tortured soul, his Motherwould call
  • Reminding her, he wasn’t her child at all
  • Yet, she couldn’t believe or even imagine the fun
  • Than being called mommy and acting like one
  • She disciplined him
  • Couldn’t have him growing wild like them
  • Her son would be the best
  • Not wife, but being mommy made her happiest
  • Then came a lightening bolt
  • Burning without smoke
  • The ash so thick it choked
  • The…

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It is (Still) Morning (Mourning?) in America!

“Oh shit!” ‘Sorry Ronnie Toopac… Nancy’Melania!

It is ‘SundayTuesday  Wednesday in Amerika!

“Let us watch ‘The Golf’ read my tweets!”

agusta

“Huge vivla la diff’ eh’?”

“Oh Me ah me! What ever do you mean?” (Said Nancy Melania)

“Ah shit Nancy! Melania! I mean it is morning in Amerka! Didn’t I say that?!”

“No, you are a Commie if you did!”

Nancy! Melania! I am soooo Sorry! I lost my place! Here was I, back in the Eighties! Working for law and land! Money, lust, and US!

I even enlisted! I served my Country! What did I get? Bupkis!” What did I get? Rich!

“Butt… We (Ronnie and I—don’t he look cute—riding that horsey? Honey?—Now…what were you saying? You middle class? Oh Yeah! Something  about entitlements?”)

“Uh! Ya know what? Nancy? Mel? Never mind. We got ours. And ya know what? We got that Commie Bastard!—That Gorbo-chov!  That Puttie… God Bless America!”

“But… where is the money?”

“for America?”

For us?

Where is our prosperity?

I thought we won the war?

Where? Where are the fruits?

They just evaporated.

Didn’t they?

“I made enuff money to buy Miami, but I pissed it away so fast…”

–Jimmy Buffett

“Just say no,” “Make US Great”  was all she said, as she walked away.

(The conversation is ambiguous, waxes and wanes, for a reason: we are all to blame)

“You let ’em come home…” America.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

The US of US is the only place that stays open all night. For All. We sort em out, once they (manage) to get here.

The US of US is the only place that stays open all night. For All. We sort em out, once they (manage) to get here.

For All.

In The Texan, I Caint Make This Shit Up… Beep Beep Beep, Updated for 2017

Watch the vid.

Please

Nuff said

We love You Molly!

“If you could see me now….”

We need you now more than ever Molly.

You Texan Bitch!

“There’ a lot to like there”

Related: Kinky Friedman