Or… “Don’t Shit Where You Eat.”
“Using Parking Meters as Walking Sticks”
Now, I can Honestly Say That I Have Been to Jail In-This-Country–America, as Opposed to All The ‘Other’ Countries I have been to Jail in…
Tom Waits – “Eggs and Sausage
In A Cadillac With Susan Michelson”
“Why do men chase women?”
“I think It’s Because They Fear Death”
“Old saying my mother told me. Wanna hear it?”
“Yeah. Sure. Of Course.”
“Don’t Shit Where You Eat.”
Yes. I’ve done some incredibly stupid shit in my time.
Below is an actual-for-real email I sent to a soon-to-be former boss (an attractive lady-boss, of course.) and is sadly very close to the top of the Misfit Hit Parade of lame-ass-actions I have perpetrated on innocents.
I have swerved into the solution for Drunken Emails.
Who could’ve known it would be this simple?
Street Cred for Vid: Big Play Films
From: Moron <firstname.lastname@example.org> cc bcc:
Yes, I am getting a tattoo (for my ‘mousing’ musing hand).
It will read simply, succinctly, in Big Bold Letters:
“No! Don’t Go There Lance!”
Brevity? Yes. (‘That soul of wit.’)
“Words have meaning Son,” my father often told me.
And short words, I have discovered, oft hold the most meaningful meaning.
It has been ‘awkward’ (to say the very least) to face you of late.
After my ‘email shot-gunning’ you, off-the-chain escapade of recent shameful regret, but… I did it and today found the courage to read all of what I did send and happily discovered, most were not of the obnoxious caliber of my historical wont.
Thank God and Baby Hey Zeus!
Alas, I wish I had an excuse.
Yet, in searching, there is one to be discovered, but so probably painfully evident that it requires no verbalization:
Two times per year, I get to ‘explore’ my darker side.
Two times per year, I choose a ‘lucky’ recipient to ‘share’ in my darkness.
Two times per year someone gets to be ‘it’.
You’re the New ‘IT’ Girl!
You’re in Good Company.
Clara Bow: The Original It Girl, 1927
The thing about writers (and those so-called writers who call themselves ‘writers’) is that they are so full of themselves, so full of shit & vain by nature (it is requisite-with the breed), and every writer and so-called writer I have ever met, are… assholes. All.
Vain, pompous, drinks-too-much, full of sound and fury, and desperation just to be read.
“A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
Black Velvet, Black Velvet, If You Please…
(Feminine / Female Diversion)
I am not (not really) stupid.
I know you cannot ‘comment’ nor even acknowledge, via email, all the posts I posted ‘at you.’
I dare say you would be wise to ignore me and my ramblings, given our professional relationship.
Yet, if you did read even one of the posts on my blog, (actually I think you read the first one I begged you to read—not the ‘best’ one, but one which apparently was on my mind–at the time)
It is a very simple thing to comment, ‘in disguise’ as
Or simply, “A Fan.” (tongue in cheek)
Do that once and I will be sated.
Do it twice and you get a
For Free Mickey Mouse Pencil Sharpener,
An Autographed 8X10 Hollywood-Type-Glossy Photograph of Jesus Christ.
Sermon-on-the-mount, highly recommended, and our best-seller
But you cannot have both; there is a limited supply.
Do it thrice: You should seek counsel.
“Writers are assholes.”
“Lance is a ‘writer’”
“Ergo, Lance is an asshole.”
There is a point to this post, but most assuredly, I have forgotten my initial inclination in that regard.
Jeopardy musical theme plays
Now I’ve got it!
This is my convoluted apology to you.
I am, and shall always remain, an Honorable Military Man.
I am cognizant of the duty (and the mission)
And, admitting I was wrong is something which seems to be easier (and more difficult—same time) to do lately.
My first wife once accused me of aspiring to be “King of the Idiots.”
(She was an idiot savant…well, you’d have to know her to get my meaning, yet, I think–know, that I have posted about her…ON-MY-BLOG)
Back to my point:
I am beginning to grow bored with my job.
You are the best supervisor/boss I have had in recent memory. All, and I do mean ALL respect you.
This should be enough for me (and for the foreseeable future it shall be)
I don’t like to shit where I eat, BUT (and this is a curse), I have a opinions and I need to get that tattoo—post haste—and with all due prejudice.
I like you Suki.
I respect you.
I am trying to help you professionally (in my way).
I am not trying to ‘do’ anything other than ‘talk’ to you and ‘work’ for you.
To quote Nixon:
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear…”
I am a whore, but only when it comes to my writing.
Nothing else these days (aside from my computer addiction) means anything to me.
I am not as bad as I may, at first glance, appear
(Truth: I am worse, but I do not bring that to WORK)
(Yes: you may quote me. I’d be flattered…. Hahahahaaa)
See you on Friday.
And remember not to work too hard.
Life’s best moments can be fleeting.
“Win or lose, win or lose
To the losers go the heart-sick blues
To the victor goes the spoilings
Honey, did you win or lose?”
(Heads up: I lost)
To an Athlete Dying Young
The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
Today, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay,
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears.
Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.
So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.
And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl’s.
Lovely, Beautiful Joni
Lovely, Beautiful Joni
Of all the Shakespeare Female Characters
Lady Macbeth is the most fascinating:
Claire Is brilliant!
Actually Not really.
I am partial to Viola:
but that is a different post.
“Out Out Brief Candle.”
Let’s End With A Bit Of Levity, Shall We?
Credit: Wisecrack– Thug Notes Summary and Analysis
This Post is Obnoxious & Insulting, But It Accurately Depicts My Mood At The Time I Wrote it.
I NEVER Lie to Y’all. And I NEVER ‘Sugar-Coat’ Nothin’.
Updated! Had to Add Some Linda at The End–Cannot Believe I Forgot!
This Post is all Fucked UP.
Guess What? I No Longer Dare to CArE! Don’t GIvE A sHiT! fUcK IT!
“Hearts are like AssHoles; eVer’one gOts one!”
Oh My God!
I Can’t Believe It’s Happening
I Was Just Re-Leashed From Hospital
Had to pay some Kid Twenty Quid Just to Drive Me Home
I Could NOT ‘Walk It”
For You See:
My Legs Had Stopped Working
For Some Bizarre Reason
I Honestly Don’t Know Why I Waste My Finite Time.
I Pull Together All Kinds of Poignant Videos.
No One Watches.
God Forbid Someone Comments!
Takes Some Time
Drops a Thin Dime
“Thank You! You Made Me Laugh!”
Oh Hell NO!
Cannot Be Bothered To Spend A Fuckin’ Mouse Clik!
Fuck All Y’all!
And I Do Sincerely Mean That!
Vid Share Cred: Chris Spags
Content Creator: K Ryan Jones (I think)
And of Course The Mesmerizin’
George Don’t Give A Shit
He is My Spirit Animal
George Ref’ d The Magic Words!
“Mack the Knife”
Anyone who reads me, knows most of my shit is bullshit about women! is about women–my relationships with women. I love women. This is well-documented.
I have broken lots of hearts.
I Regret That Now
I am Truly Sorry
Lots of good woman hearts.
My heart, my one one, my only one, has been broken too.
I should take better care of it.
Try to Look out for it.
More times than I wish to recount.
I always manage
to sailor on.
And I will.
This is cruel.
A National Treasure
Cred for Vid: jakuerika
Billie H is the broad singing; but you knew that already….
But it is how I choose to survive.
I honestly have no choice in the matter.
Yeah! I’m An Asshole!
Streetcar My Desire
If you do not get my sense of humor, you are in the wrong place.
And you need to leave.
Right Fuckin’ Now
And In Haste
Hasta La Vista!
Lo Siento Mi Vida
In My Humble Opinion, This is One Of The Most Beautiful, Wonderful Songs Ever Performed and Performed By The Most Beautiful, Talented Woman in the World
(Sorry Joni–Forgive me later–I’ll buy you lunch–I Promise.)
I Spend HOURS Seeking Out Apropos Videos To Share With Y’all. And Y’all Never Even Look at Them. So, Guess What? Fu*k Y’all! J/K! I’ll Try Harder
I May Be Be-Be–Comin’
Too Right–Too Right Wing–I Hate That!
SARAH SILVERMAN IS VISITED BY JESUS CHRIST
“When Does Life Begin?”
“Get outta my Life! Right Now!”
“Okay. We Still Good For Sunday?”
Yes! I Am An Atheist
Ever Since I Learned to Read
OH! Fuk Editin’ This!
I Give! I Cry “Uncle!”
And Oh, BTW: Have a NICE / Fukk’d Up Day!
FUCK You WORDPRESS!
Case of the Mondays
“No! Shit No! Hell No! I believe you’d get yer ass kicked over sayin’ some stupid shit like that.”
Creds: Daniel Powter
Have Nice Fukken DaaY
Cred: Who gives a Fuk at this point?
Did Red State Kansas JUST Vote to Kill Babies?!
Louder with Crowder
And Fuk Yes! I Have Met The Burn Pits–In Iraq and In Afghanist’stan!
Mutha Fuk Word-Press!
I am NOT Religious, But Fuk U
Just KIDDING! Don’t Grt All Excited!
“When Does Life begin?”
I Somehow “Managed” to Mangle it!
We are, each of us, all of us, complicated, worthy people, full of brightly brilliant ideas, passionate passions, boundless potentials and infinite possibilities.
We are “Writers,” which makes us just a little bit different, special, and weird.
(In a very good way)
We each have our own personal foibles, strengths, weaknesses, levels of humanity, quirks, degrees of sanity, degrees of insanity, levels of intelligence, variances of meanness, variances of kindness, oscillating magnitudes of mood, cascades of creativity, brilliance of brevities, vacillating verbosities, and on and on…
In short we are all individuals possessing something unique that only each unique one amongst us can share.
And THAT, My Dear “Special Writer-Friends” is what makes this vocation so Magical.
And so very fulfilling and so very rewarding.
Ninety-Nine Percent of my Writing is Autobiographical.
And I know from visiting the Blogs, that most of my Fellow Writers, at the very least, Write a good deal of same.
For me, I find it healthy and cathartic.
Your mileage may vary.
But remember Socrates’ renowned statement,
“The unexamined life is not worth living.”
Content Credit: “School of Life”
Some of us have our own personal agendas.
Some of us do not.
Yet, We, each and every one of us, is worthy: Agenda Full, or Agenda Empty.
Honestly, I am fresh out (of agendas) currently, but I am shopping for one to rent.
Upon ‘Sober’ Reflection…
(Yes! I have Quit for Good, The Drinking–Having Chosen Life Over Death Because I still have years and years and years worth of shit I want, need, to write and to share.)
Yes! Upon sober reflection, I realize I DO have an agenda after all: My ‘agenda’, modest as it may appear, is to spread a little joy and deliver a bit of enrichment into the people’s lives who honor me by investing some of that most valuable, finite commodity we ALL share:
I work very diligently not to waste even one single moment of yours, because there is no such thing as a ‘Money-Back-Time-Guarantee’.
“Love It, Or We’ll Refund All Your Time Spent. With Interest. No Questions Asked! Guaranteed!”
Sorry. Don’t work that way.
Some of us are Brilliant, Talented Writers.
Some us are just getting started and may need advice from time to time. Just ask; you will most likely get an inbox overflowing full.
“So, You Want To Be A Writer?”
Street Cred for Vid: Shea, Et al.
Some of us are polished, published, poets, prose-writers, playwright professionals, some of us are copywriters, some of us are even journalists, some of us are a combination of a few or of them all.
Some of us have genetic talent.
Some of us must work harder at it.
Most of us suffer Writer’s Block from time to time:
Content Credit: “Ivan Kander”
But the fact that we are all here, grinding out word after word,
Proves our worth and our respect for our craft.
And the Fact that you are reading these words right now proves you have respect for your fellow writers in Our Wonderful Writer’s Community
I think what my ‘message’ is trying (and most likely failing) to eloquently say… is that I love the writers in my fellow writer community.
We all have worth.
(Well except for that worthless schmuck who don’t like Lenny Bruce… and Y’all know I am even just kidding on that.)
“Thank You Mask Man”
Video Share Credit: ThankYouMaskedMan1
Never kid About Comedy; Comedy is Serious Business!
Never Joke About Lenny; Lenny is Serious Business!
And if Y’all Think I’m a Serious Person, and not joking, I am gonna purchase you a one-way ticket to ‘The Re-Education, Never-Take-Lance-Too-Seriously Gulag Facility’, recently re-modeled and up-graded–it has running water now.
And Gulag Goulash Every Saturday Night.
–Lance, Your Humble & Worthy Servant, Who Loves, and Respects, All of ‘Y’alls’.
Bonus ‘Added Value’
Shakespeare & Marlowe:
I Shall Credit This Later, But First I Need to Get Drunk-Outta-My-Mind.
So Take a Number
I am all done with talking
“Mend Your Speech A Little”
“Daddy, Fuck Off!”
(Why Do I Love Cordelia So Much? Y’all Sort It Out for me–Please)
I use a lot.
A lot of
What can I say?
I am a Texan / Sailor
Or a Sailor / Texan
‘Tis my nature.
Never mean to offend.
Perhaps I should mend
My speech a little.
“Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth. I love your majesty
According to my bond, no more nor less.”
“How, how, Cordelia? Mend your speech a little,
Lest you may mar your fortunes.”