Little Fuvkin’ Too Late: Y’all… The Vomit Comments Are The Only Worthy Earthy, Things About This Oldie Post—Jes Sayin’… They Say It’s Your Birthday (and please read/watch this one) It may be my swan song. And Yeah, I Lived In The Middle of-the-fuckin’ East–Don’t Make ME Special—Just Unu

Tomorrow I embrace my Sixty-Third Year.

So what?

I find me asking me of late:

“So… Lance, what have you done?

Vid Credit:


And ‘somewhat’ related: And…Talia Shire Will never, ever look so good. 


(That Beret! That Beret! Cabaret!) 

And of course, not without saying…

Joel Grey.

And Liza…

And Michael York.


And… whatever happened to Jimmy Buffett’s hair??? (I did read his book, “a pirate looks at forty” fifty, sixty??. did not glean anything from it ‘cept that he loves ‘boat-planes’– shit! I could have ‘wrote’ a better book. Jes sayin’…)

My tweet (if I ever tweet) to Jimmy:

Dude, stick to music. That is what you do best. Leave the prose to those who have some prose… to share. And no! I ain’t talking ’bout me, but in general speakin’…)

(See way below for the JB bits)

(and, yes:  Navy SEALs)

Picks up that conversation:

“Not too much,” I must confess.

“But surely you have touched some lives?”

“Yeah, but mostly in a bad way. I did my best in war zones. I was ‘The antithesis’ of the ‘Bad American.’ Other than that, nope.”

“Perhaps you are being too hard on yourself?”

“You really don’t know me, do you?”

“Well… no. Not exactly. This is just a job to me. Go on.”

“I’d rather not, but hey! Thanks for stopping by.”

“I suppose my ‘work’ here is done. Then?”

“Yeah. You may be excused.”

“Thanks, because I am late for my appointment with J-Law.”

“Happy Trails.”

“But you said one thing; got my attention: You said ‘torched’.

“Naw! I said ‘scorched’ There is some difference.”

Vid credit:HistoryRepeats01

And I leave Y’all with this. It fits:

Or, as Mammy (Hattie McDaniel) said, via ‘Gone With The Wind’:

“It just ain’t fittin'”

(She ‘won’ an Oscar for that. Ya surely know) And in her acceptance speech, she said, and I quote: “I sincerely hope I shall always be a credit to my race.” Can you believe she actually felt compelled to say those words? Well, it was 1940… I suppose. 

Lance loves you Mammy (Hattie)

And look up the word ‘class’ in any dictionary. There you will find a photo of Katherine Hepburn.

Oops! I meant Bette Davis (shit! I cannot tell from the vid which one, Kate or Bette–HBO!–help a brother out here. Which one?) Personally, I am gonna go with Kate.   After further review, I am going with Bette.

“Just hold on and suck in.”

Vid Credit:


 Yeah! I always pick the ‘raw’ video. Jus’ me, I suppose.

It was, in fact, my birthday.

Thanks for riding along.

For, there will be Nothing… Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Tomorrow!

Nothing tomorrow.

Cheers. Beers. Jears. Tears.


Namaste Bit:

And if you find a plethora of parenthesis here…They are for my friend, SS and solely for her own edification.

If you care to dare, Here is her link:

But Be Brave

(I was)

Yet…she scares me…

And last and certainly not least….

“We’re gonna let you go.”

I guess “all of the above” rightly sums up my life.

Happy Birthday to me.

I Am A Goddamn Mother-Fuckin PATRIOT! Git Get Over it! WARNING! UPDATE: This Post is All Over The Place!—I am Re-Posting This Becuz I am Vain. And Stupid. And Drunk in Texas. And the Only Good and True Woman I ever Had (HS Sweet-heart) Only Emails Me Once Per Year — On My Fukkin’ b’Day. (The Vid Post is All Fucked-Up And Part 2 Takes Forever To Load–_Please Be Patient

That’s it!–ONLY ON MY B’DAY! And PPL Ponder why I have lost MY MIND!! “Gone With The Bear” – As My Third Wife Referred To it. “Just Hold On And Suck In.” –Mammy– My Girl LOVED GWTW! BOOK, Hook, Crook, Line & Sinker!–MOVIE—ALL OF IT! Chapter and Verse!


Video Compilation Credit: huldr rrr

Best Clip. Ignore The Others

Except the Christine McVie toward the end. That one is requisite!

Video Compilation Credit: Michael and Stephanie Sandberg

Video Compilation Credit: ‘S’ et al.

Frankly, My Dear, I Don’t Give A Fuck”

Worth Your Time (When/If You Have Time)

First time I actually ‘talked’ to her was in her ‘Office’.

(She was a ‘new-hire’ Freshly Pressed with her Ph.D.,– Professor at the University and I was in her Brit Lit Class.)

I had already fallen hopelessly in love with her at this point.

‘One Hundred and One–Pounds of Fun’–Yes. She was Tiny

(She looked Kinda Like ‘Betty-Boop’. But in a good way.

“Gidget Gone Haywire” she referred to herself.

(Those quotes were hers, not mine–See my attraction yet?)

I’ve always been a fool for a good-looking woman with brains.

She instinctively knew this.

So I waltzed into her office...

Ready to profess My Un-Dying Love.

She Picked up a Ping-Pong Like Paddle With the Image of Scarlett O’Hara on it and held it in front of her face.

At this point, I realized I was in way over my head.

(But I somehow managed to marry her anyway.)

Damn! How I miss Her!

And her wit

And her novel way with words

I just miss everything about her… mostly her essence.

Her Efflorescence essence.

God Damn! But I did Love Her!

(Still do, I suppose.)


Bonus to Accentuate My Point:

(Christine has such a rich, deep down dark chocolate voice . I love her)


Just for fun!

“I’m Mad and I’ll not be!”

“I’ve gotta go, but I’ll be back…”


Since he Referenced...

Street Cred for the Vid: littlebrat672




My Relationships with Women have ALWAYS Been


Cred: Avril Lavigne – Complicated


Just for a little levity:

Cred for Vid Compilation: KP2013Rules



Mister Peabody




How to Build a Dyson Sphere – The Ultimate Megastructure

Cred: Kurzgesagt – In a Nutshell

This Boat Is Sinking. Ladies & Gents… When Will I Ever Learn To Keep My Big Mouth Shut? Never Ever? OK; I’m Good With That.

There is no thumbnail below.

I cannot fix it.

Just trust me.

It is Annie.

(OK, I ‘fixed’ it)

No More “I Love Yous”

Fuck You If You Send Me an “I Love You”

“You don’t know what I fear.”

(How could you???)

MY “Hood:”

Immediately after I was delivered to my front porch from UBH, I boarded my little Chariot and went to the Beer Store.

I did NOT fall off the wagon.

I jumped.

Then,  Just for fun,  I called in an air-strike to finish her off.



No more wagon!

Flash Forward to present day:

I am struggling.

The Rehab did not ‘rehabilitate’ me.

It just allowed me to ‘dry out’ for a week.

(I needed the break)

But now, I find me back in that same old familiar place.

Dodging the DT Monster.

Dodging me.

Making excuses.

Telling the two-and-a-half friends I have left:

“I am sorry.”

Perhaps I will die soon.


There is an Election Coming  Up!

And I would not miss that for all the Rum In Jamaica.


There are too many women.

Too many women I am currently in love … with

Annie Lennox Being Very Close to The Very Top of My “Lust-After” Hit Parade:

“So many monsters”


Lance Loves Women!

All women.

All kinds of women


Redemption Song–I’ll Edit/Expand This Bitch Later, Maybe/Not Likely. Sorry–Not Sorry: Never Truly ‘Sorry’ For All The Horrible Things I’ve Done…

Annie! Speak To Me!

How Many Times Do I Have To Tell You,

I’m Sorry For The Things I’ve Done?

I feel no NEED to Hit You Over-The-Head With A Hammer–Just Watch The Fucking Video!

Why? Why The Fuck Not?

What Else You Got To Do With Your Dime?

I am in-Love W/Annie Lennox–

If That isn’t Obvious, Yu ARE A Stupid Moron/Idiot

May we discuss ‘redemption?’
Of course we can.
This is MY post.
As both of y’all know, I am an atheist.
That is really beside the pint.
I have a soul
And it is soulful
I just do not believe in God.
Or the Giant Spaghetti Monster In The Sky
At some point, I learned to read.
My bad
However comma
I do possess morals.
I know right from wrong, (or wong—or Wu-Flu—Ok, that is probably racist)
Do not CARE!
Moving on…
Things are fucked up in ‘Murica’ right now.
I am not sure we can fix us, the U. S. of Us.
We are broken.
I have never feared for my country more than now.
What to do?
I have no clue.
Guess we will just have to ride this one out.

For now.

Take Good Care.
Stay Strong.
Carry On
Peace Be With You
(Okay; I am fresh outta clichés)

You feel me?
Peace and Happiness.
We will survive this.

Is a promise.

Or Perhaps

A Premise.

Not sure I know anymore.

The difference.

No matter.

I am weeping for what is left of my Country right now,

But I am on the back Nine of life, so I will not be around to witness Her Demise.

I suppose that is some happy, not fake, news.

Lance Out
Thank You.
Drive Through.


Added Value Found Below.

Just one more little bit of “Added Value.”

This Reeely Happened: I Do Not Write Fiction. “Ever So Blithely (Is that a word?) Expanded. “Shoot at me, You Sumbitch. You Caint Hit Shit!”

“Between The Lines of Photo-Graphs I’ve Seen The Past–

It isn’t Pleasing”

“Don’t spoil it all; I can’t recall a time when you were stuck without an answer”

“It isn’t Pleasing”

–Janis I (Me? The Narcissist? Yeah, That Me. C’est Moi)

“Between the lines of photographs I’ve seen the past. It isn’t pleasing.”

-Janis Ian

This post is for Teela



My grandfather beat his wife. He was a jealous man. He was a boxer in his youth, and his beatings were top-notch.



Don’t Spoil it all

I can’t recall when you were stuck without an answer

He could beat:

This man. That man. Any man. (He could beat women too)

And he did; he beat my grandmother.

For fifty years.

He was a jealous man.

He hated me, but more important, he hated the spring I had sprung from.

He hated those “Marcoms.”

“Who the hell do they think they are, Boy? Doctors, lawyers? Scum! That’s what they are!”

“Yes, gran-dad, they are scum.”

“That old Doc Marcom… he is communisss.”

“Yes, Grand-dad, surely”

“It was a Good Year then; We All Remember”


“If’n you sass me Boy, I gonna send you there to live among ‘em.”

“Yes, Granddaddy.”

“Go on in there and do yer homework.”

“Yes, Granddaddy.”

That conversation happened in 1969, if memory serves.

In 1974, when I had ‘matured’ and I was spending a summer there (in Winnsboro), late one night, my Grandmother came flying through my room:

“Lance! Lance! He’s trying to kill me! Help me!”

I jumped out of bed, followed them onto the porch, and confronted my so old nemesis:

“Hey! You son of a bitch! Don’t be hittin’ my grandmother!,” I shouted.

He took a swing and a miss.

I countered and decked him. Knocked him off the porch actually.

He gathered his wits and said,

“Boy! I am gonna shoot your ass!” And  I believed him.

He ran into the house. As he was doing that, I  grabbed my Grandmother by the arm and dragged her to the road. He reappeared with his deer rifle and shot at us once again. We dived into a bar ditch, an’ cowered.

He went back into the house, to re-load, I suppose…

Yet, He had missed. Thank Baby Hey Zeus.

But he did not miss the mark bvy much that I would have some difficulties lookin’ at him as ‘Dear Ol’ Gran-daddy” Anymore–Nevermore.

We eventually got back to the house, very early morning.. Grandma packed some Grandma shit. I went lookin’ ’bout the porch. Discovered many expended rifle shells… Granddaddy was a crack shot. He could’s kilt us if he was a wanna to, He apparently was not of a want-to. Apparently.

But… we forgave him.

We should not have.

(I know this now)



Just to try to tie this one up since some have wanted to know the ‘ending’.

Somewhere about sunrise Gran-Ma an’ me made our way back home.

Granddaddy was up (kinda). I warily looked at him.

He had sobered up by this point.

I said something profound like “Good Day Sir”—I used to be a smart-ass kid—guess I still am.


Grand-Ma packed some clothing into a suitcase.

I grabbed all my books.

We loaded ourselves and all our stuff into the car and headed south.

To Houston where my mom lived (she was more crazy than her father, but if you have ‘read’ me, you already know this)

But at least she was usually ‘un-armed.’


Once we arrived Houston, Mine Uncle, Gran-Daddy-Side, Recounted a story of when he was a boy. Gran-Daddy unleashed his right hook up-side my uncle’s head…

He did not stop flying until a kitchen cabinet impeded his backward progress into The 

Dante’s Hell That was His Life–Growin up with My Grand Dad


I Loved the Man


I Miss Him

So Marvelous Much

Pete? Pete? Re-Pete? Rinse & Re-Peat Many-Feet: “Pap, Huk, Peanut, Delirium Tremens, and Lance” The DT’s: They’re Not Just for Breakfast Anymore.

I post a lot of shit. I post a lot of off the wall shit. If you have read my ‘By Way of Introduction’ page you will know this. But, OK,  most of you have not (read that). Therefore, I will be brief here (“More matter and less art,” Yeah yeah yeah…) More matter below:

And here is some ref: Peanut, stuff, more stuff, and even more stuff.

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.

Shoot at me you son of a bitch!

“Lately I been thinkin’, I just might quit drinkin’…

Now I don’t know, all in all…”

–Jerry Jeff

“I Feel Like Hank Williams Tonight”

Huh? Whut?

I have cast to the curb, so many good women



Why, Oh The The Fuck Why???

What is WRONG With me???

Only Two Words:

Wanderlust & Alcohol

Refuge of the Roads


I’m Just Holdin’ Back From Cryin’

(And Also Dyin’)

“A Drunk With Sage’s Eyes”

Yep! My Aspiration to Be–

Someone Please Save Me From My Insanity

Cred For Vid Share: Christian Davies


JJ All-The-Way!


The ‘Airplane’

Not Sure What-The-Fuk This Is About—

Well, Screw It. I Musta Dropped It In For A Reason

Oh Now I Recall:

“White Rabbit”




Love You!