Okay, So I have been ‘reviewing’ my recent posts on Socialist Media. For science. And to take my mental pulse. What did I discover?
With my two minutes of ‘research.’ I seem to be full of myself. This is probably a ‘diagnose-able’ condition. Doubtful I can get medical treatment. And even more doubtful, Could get recompense from the VA even if it were.
“Humility” is just a scare word invented by The Left to keep the rest of inline. “Hugh-mill-ah-tee’ (That’s the Français version, Yawl) Stolen from the movie, “Camelot” 1967
Spoken to Lancelot du Lac by Queen Guinevere.
(Just some small detail to round out the post. I am a fountain of useless knowledge.)
I am having too much fun! Living (Finally! Living!) in Tejas!
Time enough to do those little things I do. Finally!
Chapter Three of ‘Escape From Memphis’ coming… Soon. So, stay tuned. Cheers, ‘Many-Feet Marcom’
Lance walks into his ‘physic’ therapist’s office and slumps down…
“Hello” too effusive psychotherapist says. “And how are WE today?” “Shitty,” I answer.
“Oh no!!” he says. “We can never feel ‘shitty’, as you say. WE are always ‘happy’.”
“Fuck you,” I say.
“Mister Marcom. WE do not talk this Way.”
“Fuck you Doc, I talk this way AND I am paying you so I CAN talk this way.”
“OK, why then are you “shitty” as you call it?”
Leaning back… wondering how long this court – ordered bullshit must go on, I decide to hit him with it:
“I am shitty ‘cause I have written some good shit on my blog and no one is reading it.”
“Please do go on.”
“Well… there is that one about Southpark”
“You mean J.R.’s ranch?”
“Do you have a degree, Doc?”
“Of course, right over there on the wall, see it?”
“What’s it in, your degree?”
“Yeah, guess that makes some sense; knew it wasn’t in Pop Culture, Pops.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Let us get back to your problem and away from my credentials, shall we? No one reads your ‘shit’, but why?”
“‘t-l-d-r’ in the vernacular.”
“Tee el dee r’? I’m afraid I do not understand your meaning here.”
“’Too Long; Didn’t Read’ Asshole.”
“Mister Marcom, I must implore you not to continue to abuse me with such language; I am merely attempting to help you here. Why is it too long? Do you hate your mother?”
“Well, it took days and days to write… And who ARE you? Do you even know what it is ‘to write’?”
“Let us focus on ‘your problem.’ shall we?”
“Doc, let us focus on yours: I don’t want to be here and THAT is YOUR problem. I just want folks to read my shit.”
“I cannot help you there, Son. Perhaps though if I may proffer a suggestion?”
“Sure. Fire away.”
“Write some better ‘shit’, as you call it.”
“If Louisiana eventually elects Duke (David Duke) governor, don’t expect any sympathy from Texas. They sent us one of their barmy governors once before—Earl Long, who was Huey’s crazy brother. Earl finally got so bad his own family shipped him off to a nuthouse in Galveston. We kept him for six weeks and then let him go; he looked like a perfectly normal governor to us.”