Category Archives: Throwback

I’ve Lost My Mind—It Was Here Just A ‘Minuet’ Ago–But it Ran Away! No More Words–I Am Drunk On Words — Disgusting! “Snuff In. Snuff Out. Snuffed On. Snuffed Off–Piss Off!”

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Shoot Me Now!—

Right Now!

Meow!

Copenhagen Honey–She Ain’t Got No MoneyI Once ‘Knew’ a GFi


Copenhagen Angel–Cred: Chris LeDoux

A ‘Must Listen!’ Below.

X-Two!

Sums it all up!

(Thanks to You Chris LeDoux!)

Copenhagen Junkie

Bye Chris

Street Cred for Shared Vid: tjcrnj

***

 

I dip snuff. (Copenhagen Regular Cut, for those snuff aficionados out there, who may have inquiring minds)

There! I admitted it!

cope

Finally!

After so many years of being a self-tormented closet snuffer’er I have finally come out.

I feel better.

Whew! One less load to carry. One less axe to grind. One less ass to bare. One less woman who may have been considering me with a favorable eye…

Well, three out of four favorable results will get you into the Hall of Fame.

In Baseball.

‘Tis a habit I acquired whilst in BUD/s Class 140, circa 1986.

For some uninitiated: That stands for “Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training”  SEAL Boot-Camp, if you will: Class 140.

Yup. I was almost a SEAL. Twice. But more on that in a later post. Maybe.

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

Continue reading →

I am Re-Posting This… Because… Just Be-Cuz.. “Lyndon Johnson, Just Another Schmuck Lookin’ Out for His Nuts” (And Once More, WP Won’t Let Me Properly EDIT This!–GD U WP!!) I Miss My Big Sis–My Madelyn.

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I Miss My Big Sis–My Madelyn. (I Miss My Functional Prostate TOO — Caint Piss For Shit–TMI?–WHO AM I?)

Yes. A Repost. If you do nothing else, please scroll down and listen to the clip. It is hysterical (and real) Even better.

Cheers Y’all and Happy Saturday    Oops! Sunday (is it?)  

*** 

Lyndon Baines Johnson

Texan, Father, School Teacher, Rancher, & Much Maligned 36th President of The United States of America.

I love LBJ, or as Brother Dave Gardner (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4E_Nrm0j8k) once called him: ‘Daddy Bird’. Johnson was a divisive entity during his one and a half terms as president—primarily due of course to the Vietnam War—which he inherited. Yes, I realize I am gonna get some push back. Favorably mention ‘LBJ’ even today and you best stand by for some unhappy and contentious words.

Young Daddy Bird

Young Daddy Bird

The problem I have, in general, when talking to folks about Johnson is that most are ignorant of the man, his history, his upbringing; his good works: Rural electrification for Texas. Medicare, Civil Rights, The Great Society (never really came to fruition, due to Vietnam) and so on.

Once he became ‘The Accidental President’ he took JFK’s dreams and made them reality. Johnson could do that. Why? Because he was the consummate politician—far more effective than Jack Kennedy. JFK’s dreams were hollow pipes. Johnson made them happen. This is historical fact: For those of you who would care to search it out. For those who don’t really care to do that: Just-Trust-Me on this one, ‘cause I am a Texan, and Texans don’t lie (overmuch).

I have read all of Robert Caro’s books (http://www.robertcaro.com/) on LBJ and I have done my own research, and I have my own memories.

During the Sixty-Four election, my Mom, the original Hippy Chick informed me she was voting for Goldwater.

“Goldwater! Mom! Are you serious?”

“Yes Son. He is right for America.”
“‘Right?!’ Right don’t even come close: just to the right of Attila the Hun.” (Even at that tender age of seven, I was politically astute. Honestly.)

Our country does not produce colorful leaders like LBJ anymore. Much of the blame must be placed on the information revolution and the manifestation of the instant sound bite. I am not bemoaning the Information Age. I would not be able to throw my thoughts so carelessly about to the entire world if it were not for this Internet Thing we all embrace. All I am saying is one must ponder how many potential great leaders are out there, but refuse to step up to the plate simply because they do not wish to have every word they have ever uttered tweeted or twerked or posted or face-booked for all to see. Some things should still be classified as TMI. That is just good manners.

What if JFK had had the internet to deal with? We would all have known of his affair with MM. WWBS? What would Bill ‘Oh Really’ Say? We would have been ass-deep in the Cuban Missile Crisis, but Fox and CNN and even MSNBC would have burned more video on JFK’s infidelity. Castro would have loved it. Just sayin’…

My Step-sister worked for Oliver Stone on the film JFK. She was one of the on-set-dressers. We got into a heated argument over the whole conspiracy thing. She was convinced that LBJ was behind it all. I know quite a lot about LBJ as I have mentioned. I have done my research and I love Texas history.

Anyway I asked her upon what she based her unwavering belief.

She said, “That photograph of Johnson taking the oath of office on Air Force One in Dallas.”

Smug Ladybird?

Smug? Ladybird? (Just behind his right hand, in case y’all don’t recognize her) Of course, that is Jackie on the other side.

“You’re shitting me,” I said.

“Look at that photo and see how smug Ladybird looks in it. You just know then and there, she knew the whole thing.”

“I think I need a drink,” was all I could muster by way of response.

(Oh! And my step-mother worked for Jack Ruby: I know some shit about it)

Just sayin’…

I am not writing here as an apologist for LBJ. My focus is on the wonderful Texan caricature character he was. His humor, his down-to-earth’ed-ness, his vibrant lust for life, his convictions, and his larger-than-worldly-life persona: His ‘Texan-ness’.

Therein lies the rub for me. Johnson could be a buffoon. He could be portrayed as an idiot. He could be rude, crude, and socially unacceptable. He would be chastised and eventually ostracized.

But he got shit done!

He was a great, moral, honorable man.

No one will ever convince me otherwise (but you are certainly welcome to try)

Watch and listen to the Video Clip. It proves my point (and it is hysterical). These tapes were released a few years back. I have them all.

(http://www.lbjlib.utexas.edu/johnson/archives.hom/dictabelt.hom/content.asp)

Priceless they are (His Family Jewels)

Comments would be appreciated here, no matter which direction you lean.

***

I just throw this in, ’cause it is my blog and I like it.

Peace!

Please re-Read, Re-Listen–Especially The Lenny Bits–A Tuesday Throwback… or, if you will: “Why Ruby Did It?”*

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(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.

C’mon Y’all! This Be a Light-Hearted, Fun Post! “Now I know why London Bridge Fell Down” Be Kind. Rewind (Up-Dated–Expanded–More Insults Added)

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London Underground Song

You Will Laugh

I Promise

Unless You Lack A Sense Of Humor

If That Be the Case, All bets Are Off

So Go To F*ck Off

Land

If You Can

Even Find It

Sorry.

I Didn’t Mean That!

(Actually, I Did)

I’m An Asshole

What Can I Say?

Cred: rafpilot1

Huh? Whaaat?

This Be My Best Friend Forever

When I was working in Basra, my gig allowed two weeks R&R every two months or so. Sounds like a deal, eh? Well, yes it was. Be aware however, we worked seven days a week, ten hours a day. NO days off. So do the math; we earned it. And of course we were getting shelled and rocketed and mortared regularly.

Anyhow, I had a stateside girlfriend back then. Actually more friend than girl. Rather platonic relationship, but we were ‘Buds’ and I loved her dearly. (Still do) And we went way back.

It was agreed by us both, that once I went to Iraq, we would spend our (my) R&R’s together. I flew her to Barcelona, Athens, Italy, and finally London. (She made all the arrangements. All I had to do was show up) Too easy for me.

Mid 2006 we met in London. I was ‘cacked out’ (Lenny Bruce vernacular). Worn out. Plumb tuckered. Tired. Damn tired. Spent.

R&R London

She was, of course not. Now mind you, this woman had been all over Europe already. London, Paris, Madrid, Rome, Berlin, Athens… well, she was rich. Catch my drift? I had seen quite a lot of Europe my own damn self. Did not hold much magic for me.

All I really wanted was some ‘down time.’

Bless her heart (and this speaks volumes of our great friendship), she let me do what I wanted; which basically meant I could sit in the flat she had arranged for us in downtown London and drink Beefeater while watching movies and smoking Marlboro’s and ranting at the current state of affairs in Iraq.

After a few days, she did manage to get me out of the flat for a walk-about. We went to Buckingham Palace (one day shot there)

We went to the British Museum; saw the Rosetta stone. Another day gone.

“Lance that’s the Rosetta Stone.”

“No Shit?”

Moron at the Looking Glass

Lookin’

Just Lookin’

 

What’s it say?”

“It says, ‘Shut up Lance’”

***

Later Had some fish ‘n’ chips (I preferred Long John Silvers, but that is just what an asshole I am)

Rode the Tube. (I prefer Le Metro in Paris, but what the hell)

And various other exhausting  exhilarating  excursions.

“About three days before we were to part: me back to The Sandbox; she back to Texas, she asked me, “Lance, isn’t there any place in London you would like to see?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is. I wanna go down to Marble Arch Station.”

“Whaaat?” she said.

“Yeah. Marble Arch Station.”

West End of London, England, United Kingdom

“That is a Tube Station.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Why on Earth…”

“Because it belongs to Gary P. Nunn and Jerry Jeff Walker. And Texas.”

(Best Original Audio from ¡Viva Terlingua!)

London Homesick Blues

She acquiesced and off we went. Got there and I had a salutary beer to J.J. Walker and Gary P. Nunn. Then I was happy and pronounced my R&R a successful bit of Rest and Relaxation.

Best Video From “Lost Gonzo Band (with Gary P. Nunn)”

 

“Well I decided that

I’d get my cowboy hat

And go down to Marble Arch Station…”

Went back to the flat and had a few gin and tonics and lived happily ever after.

“R&R” means that: Rest and Relax and do whatever the hell you want.

London could wait… until I came back the next time.

Good God!

I MISS Texas!

I am just gonna re-post this to make it easier for a friend of mine to find. “Now I know why London Bridge Fell Down” Be Kind. Rewind

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Huh? Whaaat?

This Be My Best Friend Forever

When I was working in Basra, my gig allowed two weeks R&R every two months or so. Sounds like a deal, eh? Well, yes it was. Be aware however, we worked seven days a week, ten hours a day. NO days off. So do the math; we earned it. And of course we were getting shelled and rocketed and mortared regularly.

Anyhow, I had a stateside girlfriend back then. Actually more friend than girl. Rather platonic relationship, but we were ‘Buds’ and I loved her dearly. (Still do) And we went way back.

It was agreed by us both, that once I went to Iraq, we would spend our (my) R&R’s together. I flew her to Barcelona, Athens, Italy, and finally London. (She made all the arrangements. All I had to do was show up) Too easy for me.

Mid 2006 we met in London. I was ‘cacked out’ (Lenny Bruce vernacular). Worn out. Plumb tuckered. Tired. Damn tired. Spent.

R&R London

She was, of course not. Now mind you, this woman had been all over Europe already. London, Paris, Madrid, Rome, Berlin, Athens… well, she was rich. Catch my drift? I had seen quite a lot of Europe my own damn self. Did not hold much magic for me.

All I really wanted was some ‘down time.’

Bless her heart (and this speaks volumes of our great friendship), she let me do what I wanted; which basically meant I could sit in the flat she had arranged for us in downtown London and drink Beefeater while watching movies and smoking Marlboro’s and ranting at the current state of affairs in Iraq.

After a few days, she did manage to get me out of the flat for a walk-about. We went to Buckingham Palace (one day shot there)

We went to the British Museum; saw the Rosetta stone. Another day gone.

“Lance that’s the Rosetta Stone.”

“Yep, that’s cool. What’s it say?”

“It says, ‘Shut up Lance’”

Had some fish ‘n’ chips (I preferred Long John Silvers, but that is just what an asshole I am)

Rode the Tube. (I prefer Le Metro in Paris, but what the hell)

And various other exhausting  exhilarating  excursions.

“About three days before we were to part: me back to The Sandbox; she back to Texas, she asked me, “Lance, isn’t there any place in London you would like to see?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is. I wanna go down to Marble Arch Station.”

“Whaaat?” she said.

“Yeah. Marble Arch Station.”

West End of London, England, United Kingdom

“That is a Tube Station.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Why on Earth…”

“Because it belongs to Gary P. Nunn and Jerry Jeff Walker. And Texas.”

(Best Original Audio from ¡Viva Terlingua!)

London Homesick Blues

She acquiesced and off we went. Got there and I had a salutary beer to J.J. Walker and Gary P. Nunn. Then I was happy and pronounced my R&R a successful bit of Rest and Relaxation.

Best Video From “Lost Gonzo Band (with Gary P. Nunn)”

“Well I decided that

I’d get my cowboy hat

And go down to Marble Arch Station…”

Went back to the flat and had a few gin and tonics and lived happily ever after.

“R&R” means that: Rest and Relax and do whatever the hell you want.

London could wait… until I came back the next time.

Good God!

I MISS Texas!

Here Is Yet Another One From The Recycle Bin: “Threw Back Up Thursday: Kinky”(I Attempted To Edit Text In This, To Make It More Readable, But Once Again, WordPress is Being Stupid!—I Cannot Believe I Pay Four Hundred Quid A Year for The “Premium” Version of This Garbage Ap!

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“Remember the Alamo” – Johnny Cash animation

Cred: Wooty

*****

“Me No Alamo”

Just some silly-ness from my immature Blogging Past. (I do hope I have ‘matured’ somewhat since April, but I doubt it)

Don’t try to judge me; take some grains of salt.

Just kids havin’ fun.

***

Now, for all y’all Texans out there in Radio Land, this Man needs no introduction:

The Once and Future Guv of Texas:

Kinky Friedman and his Texas Jewboys Band:

He’s just an asshole, but dammit! He’s our Asshole an’ we love him.

Fer the res’ of all y’all who were unlucky enuff to not be born’d in This-Great-Land, Way’ll, Please watch an’ enjoy.

An’ lemme say this by way of dis’claimering: Kinky ain’t no race-ist (Hell! He drives a pickup truck, not a Ferrari) agin’ Meskins. He is all over tongue-n-cheek an’ pokes fun at all o’ y’all Texicans. Most even at me.

Kinky Fer President in ‘16!

Feel Me?

I love all y’all (even all y’all Yankees)

Peace Out,

Y’all’s Lance-ikin

“Aren’t you scared the Lord will hit you with a light-en-ing bolt?”

“I figger if he did, He’d know what He was doin’. I’d just ride it wherever it took me.”

–Dave Gardner

(“Me no Alamo”)

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

“According to Texas legend, in 1836, when Sam Houston, master of the strategic retreat,

220px-Sam_Houston_by_Mathew_Brady

The Raven

and the Texan Army finally allowed Santa Anna and the Mexicans to catch up with them, the Texans waded into the sleeping Mexicans at San Jacinto, yelling, “Remember the Alamo! Remember Goliad!” while filleting Mexicans left and right with their bayonets. The panicked Mexicans tried to scramble away, screaming, “Me no Alamo, me no Goliad!” It has come to mean, “Hey, don’t blame me. I didn’t do it.”

“All the stuff I report in this book happened. I didn’t make up any of it.”

“Me no Alamo.”

–Molly Ivins

From her wonderful book: “Molly Ivins Can’t Say That, Can She?”

Molly

Molly

Read it.

And Weep.

And laugh

Yer Ass Off