A Love for All Seasons. And For All The Right Reasons

Just One More In The Continuing Series:

“All The Women Lance Loves”

Have a Blast.

(WIP)

Street Cred Vid Share Credit: stumblingChaos

*****

Olivia on the phone with me:

(Wanna Talk Vain Fantasy?)

*****

And Just To Lift Your Spirits:

“O happy dagger,

This is thy sheath.

There rust and let me die.

Whomever posted this really fucked it up with their lame-ass dubbed-in music.

But it was the only clip I could find.

(Give me some time)

I will find a more respectful version

*****

Bonus (Just for fun)

“Do you know it?”
“Every word.”

(Writers inhabit a strange/insane/inane world)

“Writer is he?”

“Did I mention her bosom?”

*******

“Strangely enough, I’m a bit of a writer myself.

Won’t take you long to read it.

I expect you know all the booksellers…”

(Exeunt Stage Left)

Gwyneth, I don’t care that you are bat-shit crazy nuts!

I adore you!

*****

I love the emotions Shakespeare drags out of me…

Kicking and screaming

Claire is so beautiful!

*****

Yeah I know.

I suck at editing.

Wanna come help me out?

(I might even pay you)

The Joke Is On Me (And On You–For Even Being Here) Broadcast News

Facebook Post:
Good morning!
I am feeling somewhat “normal” today.
Trying to stay two steps ahead of the neck pain.
Taking lots of Ibuprofen and booze.
Put MS Muse Out of my Misery.
But I miss her already.
I just may have a life after all.
Or not.
“O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that.”
—King Lear, Act 3, Scene 4
Too heavy?
Fuck with me?
You’ll get what you fucking deserve.
Love,
Lance…
The NSA Are on Their Way!

“Hey! Hey! NSA! On The Way!
(Ditto the Local Cops!)
“Surround the House!”
“Madman Inside!”
“Be careful Boys!”
“Let’s Take Him Down…”
“But Quietly.”
“No Muss. No Fuss.”

*****

Do not Fuck with Me!

I will not Hesitate to Empty a Clip Into Your Dome.

MS Muse– Miss Misery:

Feel Free To Conduct A Search

For ‘Abusive Muse.’

There you may find happiness.

******

BONUS MATERIAL BELOW

Crit-After-My-Own-Heart-Drinker-Man!

If you do not watch this, or appreciate this…

Your Loss

Pygmalion-Like I Created Her & Then Fell In Love With Her

And it has occurred at me: I never ‘gave’ her a Proper Name.

I am gonna go with ‘Katherine.’

Works for me (And Hopefully, Her)

I was at my computer, banging out my latest travesty of prose.

As Was instructed/demanded by MS Muse.

Finished it and hit The ‘Publish’ Button.

(I NEVER allow Anyone, not even MS Muse, to proof-read or comment on my so-called ‘work’ before I cast it out into the endless sea that is the Internet.)

Muse will certainly be the first to read it and then as she is reading it, I’ll stand by for heavy rolls and unhappy critique.

But this post is not about that.

I leaned back in my chair, cracked open another beer, and glanced over my shoulder at MS Muse.

She had not yet gotten the “Moron-Writer-Just-Posted Alert.”

She was preoccupied with working her NYT Crossword

(Using an INK PEN! Vice a PENCIL like all the rest of us Mortals. Who has confidence enough to do that? She does.)

As I was staring at her, she apparently became aware.

She put down her New York Times, stared right back at me and said,

“Now what?”

I cleared my throat, mustered all the courage and moxie I had remaining, and said,

“Will You Marry Me?”

It didn’t exactly go like this, but this here/below, is

MY FANTASY.

I can concoct it as however is my wont.

Or ‘want.’

Call it ‘Creative License.’

If you must.

To be continued…

P.S., I am in love with Carly Simon

(As if Regular Readers Did Not Already Know This)

She was / is a bit of a slut,

But ain’t we all?

(I warmly embrace my ‘slutiness.’ It defines me)

Carly’s Slutiness Makes Me Love Her Even That Much More!

She is for reals!

******

Sorry Carly!

I should not have called you a slut–I live in a Glass House—

Casting Stones is Not Wise on My Part.

Sexy Goddess Elizabeth: My Last Wife, Chapter Two: In France We Kissed On Main Street

In France we kissed on Main Street

Video Credit: MysticPieces

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I was Free To Follow My Desire In Paris

We spent an inordinate amount of time in our lovely, comfy little love shack of a hotel room.

I had fetched along some of my most – favorite movies to share with Ela—Yes, at this point, she had instructed me to call her “Ela” because that was the moniker she went by, but reserved for her ‘closest friends.”—I figured ‘Lovers’—but whatever. I had made it to “Ela Status.” Hoped this boded well for our relationship.

Got one of the Hotel Staff to hook us up with a DVD Player so we could watch the movies I had brought to the soiree:

‘Cabaret’, ‘Hamlet,’ ‘Macbeth.’ Midnight Cowboy,’ ‘Henry V’–Just some ‘Light-Hearted viewing! HAHAHAH!

She loved ‘Henry V’ and ‘Cabaret.’

‘Macbeth’ and ‘Hamlet’ not as much.

We wasted (well, not wasted to me) a lot of time holed up in our little room watching these movies, drinking vin rouge, and making love. I was in Heaven. I had already seen much of The Paris I was interested in seeing (This was not my First ‘Paris Rodeo’—Had been to Paris several times already. As had she.

So we just drank, made love, watched movies, and fell deep IN-LOVE (for the most part)

We did go out, usually in the late evenings to stroll down the Champs-Élysées and hang out at the Café George V.

We were having a wonderful Paris Experience.

But, it was rapidly coming to an end.

She had to return to her ‘Main-Mundane’ in Springfield and I had to return to ‘Le Sandbox’ that was Iraq. We kinda grew morose.

Then I had one of those ‘epiphany things.’

“Ela,” I broached. “Why cannot we just extend our stay here a few more days? I can change our plane tickets, sort things out with the hotel. My job won’t fire me. I am too good at it, as I am sure you are at yours. Let’s stay a few more days.”

She blinked at me through teary eyes, embraced me, kissed me and said, “Oh Yes! Oh Hell Yes!”

Then I got on the telephone to sort out all the logistics and the dice were cast.

It turned out to be a not-so-very-good crap-shoot, but it took some time for that realization to make manifest.

To be continued…

Chapter One Here

HANK SANK

One more silly Facefuk post:

“The below ‘Independence Day’ speech was lifted right out of ‘Henry V’

(Or ‘Hank Cinq’—as I like to call it)

Saint Crispin’s Day: The Battle of Agincourt

Watch Le Both (If you are a film buff)

But do it quickly, because FaceFuck will most likely delete this for ‘copyright violation.’

This is a stupid, silly, mindless film, but I am gonna watch it once more anyway.

(It is a guilty pleasure)”

Below: Some added value from Henry V (VERY Charming Emma Thompson)

(I just threw this in because I love this scene and I love Emma Thompson–She is beautiful and wonderfully talented)

The best line in this scene is when the maid is trying to say the English word for “foot” but it came out something approaching ‘foutre’. Which is Française for ‘fuck’.

I know this because my Moroccan girlfriend (who was fluent in French) often said to me “Va te faire foutre!” Which means “Go fuck yourself.”

(She could be so charmingly delightful at times. I did love her and her passionate spirit.)

Attempted Sleep (Failed) Or… To Sleep, Perchance to Dream.

“The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sounds of silence.”

Need sleep.

Turned off the TV.

Turned off the lights.

Turned off my computer monitor.

Turned off the HVAC

Turned off my mind.

SILENCE.

DARKNESS.

Could not sleep.

Too quiet.

Not near dark enough.

Trying to fall asleep listening to this.

Before it runs out.

Before I laid down for the second time, I asked MS Muse:

“Hey! You wanna lie down with me? Sleep with me? Hold me? Comfort me?”

She said, and I quote, “Go fuck yourself.”

“Guess that would be a ‘no’ then.”

But I cannot sleep:

“Hello Darkness MY Old Friend…”

My mind torments me.

Mercilessly.

****

Added Value:

More added value: