My Legs Had Stopped Working… Please Re-Read, Re-Listen–Especially The Lenny Bits–A Vanity Throwback… or, if you Will: Or “Why Ruby Did It?”

How now, Brown cow?

P fuckin’ ‘S” I caint cred the

Woody Tune

Fuck U WP!

(My legs have stopped workin’–I cannot walk), but I can still crawl–To my bed–Night- Night

*Of course if you want the answer to that burning behind the Grassy Knoll Question, you will have to listen to Lenny. (Listen below after you wade through some serious Lance Horseshit)

Or, I suppose you could just ask Lance, as his erstwhile step-mom worked for Jack (Ruby)

And if you, any of you, breath, yeah breath. A word to my also erstwhile step-sister… well, that breath, will be your last…

Sad Update: Madelyn

(And, as always, Everything I just typo’d, said, thought… well, it’s bullshit. I was born, rear’d an’ raised in California. Northern California. I have never even seen Texas. Just read about it all.)

In books.

And some old  pirate maps.

Galveston maps

*****

Just funnin’… I am only Half-Crazy.

Just to make up for all those “Thursday Throwbacks” I missed cashing in on during my recent ‘sabbatical’.

Yeah, I always considered ‘Throwback Thursdays’ something 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!

(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. (See? There is some continuity to my mind)

Believe that? Really? Wanna buy a bridge? Cheap?

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

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 ‘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?’

Just some musings from an amusing wanna-be writer/blogger. Take with some grain of salt. (And Comment), if you are of a mind to, and have an opinion on the ‘writing/blogging’ process.

Cheers, Lancers

“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)

And I wanna be Your Lenny…

Right here on TT&H

There is a vid credit, but I lost it. His lawyers will surely contact mine…

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

Moving on…

Now, this is some strange form of bullshit.

I actually shook  his hand.

download

In San’ Dog, California.

He weren’t  none of that.

He was some, but not all.

But he was a great man.

He was just a man with a plan.

I loved him for that.

Just like I love(d) Woody

And his son….

And I respect.

Must Re-Post Because I’m An Idiot. And a Sentimental Old Fool. “Leonard Cohen’s Muse–Suzanne Verdal, & Musing About Muses–Or, What You Will (“And you know that she’s half-crazy”–therein lies the attraction…)”

Suzanne Verdal:

Fascinatingly, Beautiful, Fantastic, Ethereal Woman.
And The Quintessential, Perfect Muse.
And this is gonna sound ‘messed up,’ but Suzanne reminds me of my Mother:
One of The ‘Original Hippy Chicks.’

My Beautiful Mother:


(Link Also Awaiting Your Perusal at the End of this Post–‘Turtle Blues.’)

No ‘New’ Prose From Me Found Here Today.

Just some very-much-worth-watching videos

If you are a ‘writer,’ that is

Enjoy.

I Will Pen Some-New-Shit…

Presently

Soon

Probably

Maybe

Hopefully

****

If you have yet to read my “Abusive Muse” Series,

you may discover the link at the bottom of this post.

Cheers Y’all!

And WRITE ON!

***

Suzanne is….

So Wonderfully Charming.

So Charming.

So Charming.

So Charming.

Suzanne

Cohen’s Writing ‘Process.’

(I cannot Find the Original Poster of this Post to Credit—G’dammmnit)

As Promised Up Above:

My Mother–The Original Hippy Chick:

Hint: Not Really My Mother, but how she saw herself

Original HIPPY CHICK

I LOVE You MOM!

(If you do not Appreciate My Sense of Twisted Humor, You Most-Likely took a wrong Turn at Albuquerque)

Twisted:

Video Credit:  ‘Joni Journey’

Just B’Cause I Can! Fuk..> N/M This Needs to Be Re-Posted / Re-Stated / Re-Iterated, Just To Clari-Cate The ‘Ere’ And To Make Something Perfectly ‘Clair’: “Faith” And Lance-Romance

Beautiful Lady
Such Class!

So Much Class!

Fun Fact: My Shipmate on the USS Frederick LST 1184 was a wanna-be banjo player and blue-grass dude. He tole me of a time he met Emmylou at a festival. She talked to him for thirty minutes! He Said she was so nice to him and encouraged him to pursue his dream

Asshole Didn’t even know who the fuck he had been talkin’ to… until years later

As I said:

CLASS!

CLASS ACT!

It’s all right. It’s Mid-Night and I gots a half-gallon o’ gin!

I’ll be FINE OR ‘FINED’.

yUK yUK yUK!

Emmmmy Lou!

I Fukken Love You!

Religion.

Specifically: Southern Religion

More specifically: Texan Religion.

I am talking Methodists, Baptists, Church of Chist(ers)—the Entire Gamut of The Faithful.

I love all of Y’all.

No secret: “Lance is an Atheist.”

(This is well-documented.)

However, I do love AND RESPECT

All Folks of Faith.

I just do not roll that way.

Cannot.

But I love the music.

And I love the morality

(I have that too— ‘morality’—I do not need Religion to have that)

I love the culture of Faith.

I never mean to demean anyone of Faith.

My fervent wish is to never offend.

I have too much respect for Folks of Faith.

Too much respect For Fellow Texans,

most of whom are Religious.

(I was going somewhere with this post)

Probably to Hell.

******

Post Script:

I have read ‘The Iliad’

And ‘The Odyssey’

And All The Norsemen—Thor–in particular.

I have read ‘Beowulf’

And The ‘King James Bible.’

Read it Cover-to-Cover–Most Christians cannot make that statement in ‘Good Faith’–Yet I can, because it’s the truth.

All Great Mythology.

All Magnificent Literature.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but I know what I’m talking about.

(“One of these days I’ll look back and I’ll say I left in time.”)

We are, all of us, solely responsible for our own happiness, or un-happiness, It is all on us-

No-body else is responsible

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

“There’s a “Hallelujah!” on the lips of every dying man”

Cred: The Highwomen

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

I’ll be an atheist until that day I die!

Why?

Becauss I learned to read.

At Age Three

More Madonna’

Less Jesus!

I Want Another Little Jewish Princess

I should NOT go HERE!

Reminiscing about my rebound lover from my living in Israel days…

After That Moroccan Bitch Gladys had dumped me,

I found a new, better girl.

Her name was ‘Ayala’

She was a Yemenite

 And she was beautiful—very, very, VERY beautiful.

First time I saw her I was smitten like a kitten.

She had very long dark hair and even darker eyes.

She was a Yemenite Jew Witch—She could turn frogs into wine.

Problem was, not too many frogs to be found in Israel.

We searched and searched

Alas. No frogs.

So just ended up purchasing wine from the store.

No shit.

And I loved her (briefly)

She was one of my for all-time best lovers.

(I should have married HER instead of some of the broads I later married)

I always smile inside when I remember her.

Song Below: Click it if you dare.

Sunday is Rapidly Approaching–Relentlessly Snipping at My Heels. Just Another Manic Sunday! I Fukk’en HATE Sundays!

Preach On My Brother!

“There’s Nothin’ Short ah Dyin'”

FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!

Office Space – Printer Scenes (uncensored) Intro

Die Mutha-Fu*Kah! Die Mutha-Fu*Kah! Die Mutha-Fu*Kah!

DIE!

Cred For Vid: nifelhell42

***

Monkey Sez:

“Hey Asshole! You Keep F*cking wid me, we gonna take your Planet. Watch the F*ckin’ Movie. Talk to Chuck! He will dial you in Hot-Rod!”

***

I F*cking HATE Sundays

Why?

Reasons:

  1. Cannot buy booze
  2. No real ‘News’
  3. Nothing interesting ever happens on a Sunday
  4. I havta take a shower
  5. I have to put on “not white trash’ clothing
  6. I feel compelled to find a church to sit in bored to death
  7. I cannot speak freely–must ‘mend my speech’
  8. Yada Yada Yada Bullshit

Oh Susanna! Take Me Away!

***

Sunday Mournin’ Comin’ Downtown

Kris Classic Below; Don’t Be A Fool.

Clik It

Street Cred for Vid: biggestkkfan

***

Special Bonus Guest Star

George Carlin!

666

More Ref (Just for Balance)

Clik The Link

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

And Now,

Present/Pleasant Day,

Shamelessly Stolen By One

‘Lance A. Marcom’

Luv Y’all. Mean It!

****

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–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 to be Dead.”

Quite Dead

In Fact

“Deader ‘N’ Disco”

(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

And You Definitely Can’t Fix

‘Perma-Stupid’

Believe Me: I’ve Tried–Four Ex-Wives…

And Too Right Sir R. White

Too Right!

***

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

Fu*king Methodist!

And Allow me to reiterate.

I’ve been riding fare-free and care-free on his ‘Fame-Name-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…”

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