TRIGGER WARNING! This Post is Obnoxious & Insulting, But It Accurately Depicts My Mood At The Time I Wrote it. I NEVER Lie to Y’all. –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!”

Wasted Time

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

Says

“Thank You! You Made Me Laugh!”

Oh Hell NO! Cannot Be Bothered To Spend A Fuckin’ Mouse Clik!

Fuck All Y’all!

And I Sincerely Mean That!

Vid Share Cred: Chris Spags

Content Creator: K Ryan Jones (I think)

And of Course The Mesmerizin’

Connie Britton

George Don’t Give A Shit

He is My Spirit Animal

Anyone who reads me, knows most of my shit is about women–my relationships with women. I love women. This is well-documented.

I have broken lots of hearts.

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.

More earnestly.

More diligently.

Less carelessly.

Heart Broke.

More times than I wish to recount.

But.

I always manage

to sailor on.

And I will.

Continue.

For

Ever.

This is cruel.

And

BRILLIANT

Billie Holiday

A National Treasure

Tragic Ophilia

Cred for Vid: jakuerika

Billie H is the broad singing; but you knew that already….

*********

And crude.

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.

Now.

Right Now.

Right Fuckin’ Now

And In Haste

Hasta La Vista!

Lo Siento Mi Vida

Linda!

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)

Christopher Hitchens: On The Suicide of His Mother

This seems to be popular.

Of late.

fuk it.

Perhaps it is just the sign of the seasons….

Maybe we all want to commit suicide.

Relinquish the world back to the roaches.

Surely they could do no worse, management – wise.

The below is transcribed from Hitch’s book “Hitch-22”

Hitch 22 cigs

***

…because most of what I know about manic depression I first learned from Hamlet.

“I have of late,” the Prince of Denmark tells us, “but wherefore I know not—lost all my mirth.” Everyone living has occasionally experienced that feeling, but the lines that accompany it are the best definition of the blues that was ever set down. (“Tired of living, scared of dying” is the next-best encapsulation, offered in “Old Man River.”) Who would carry on with the unending tedium and potential misery if they did not think that extinction would even be less desirable or—as it is phrased in another of Hamlet’s mood-swing soliloquies—if “the ever-lasting” had “not set his canon ‘gainst self-slaughter”?

There are fourteen suicides in eight works of Shakespeare, according to Giles Romilly Feddnen’s study of the question, and these include the deliberate and ostensibly noble ones of Romeo and Juliet and of Othello. It’s of interest that only Hamlet’s darling Ophelia, whose death at her own hands is not strictly intentional, it is the object of condemnation by the clergy. My own indifference to religion and refusal to credit any babble about an afterlife has, alas, denied me the hearty satisfaction experienced by Ophelia’s brother Laertes, who whirls on the moralizing cleric to say:

“I tell thee, churlish priest,

A ministering angel shall my sister be,

When thou liest howling.”

Memorable to be sure, but too dependent on the evil and stupidity of the heaven/hell dualism, and of scant use to me in deciding how it was that a thoughtful, loving, cheerful, person like Yvonne, who was in reasonable health, would want to simply give up.

I thought it might have something to do with what the specialists call “anhedonia,” or the sudden inability to derive pleasure from anything, most especially from the pleasurable. Al Alverez, in his very testing and demanding study of the subject, “The Savage God,” returns often to the suicide of Cesare Pavese, who took his own life at the apparent height of his powers.  

Don't stay here

“In the year before he died he turned out two of his best novels… One month before the end he received the Strega Prize, the supreme accolade for an Italian writer. ‘I have never been so much alive as now,’ he wrote, ‘never so young.’ A few days later he was dead. Perhaps the sweetness itself of his creative powers made his innate depression all the harder to bear.”

***

Thank you for reading.

-Lance

(We now return you to our regularly scheduled…)

For Reference:

I love Helena Bonham Carter… Cannot help myself. (This scene is disturbing: do Not Watch)

If You Watch Nothing Else, Please Please PLEASE  Watch This:

Credit: And watch it AGAIN!

Here now (I hope) is the proper credit:

https://www.youtube.com/user/jakuerika

Christopher Hitchens: On The Suicide of His Mother

The below is transcribed from Hitch’s book “Hitch-22”

Hitch 22 cigs

***

…because most of what I know about manic depression I first learned from Hamlet.

“I have of late,” the Prince of Denmark tells us, “but wherefore I know not—lost all my mirth.” Everyone living has occasionally experienced that feeling, but the lines that accompany it are the best definition of the blues that was ever set down. (“Tired of living, scared of dying” is the next-best encapsulation, offered in “Old Man River.”) Who would carry on with the unending tedium and potential misery if they did not think that extinction would even be less desirable or—as it is phrased in another of Hamlet’s mood-swing soliloquies—if “the ever-lasting” had “not set his canon ‘gainst self-slaughter”?

There are fourteen suicides in eight works of Shakespeare, according to Giles Romilly Feddnen’s study of the question, and these include the deliberate and ostensibly noble ones of Romeo and Juliet and of Othello. It’s of interest that only Hamlet’s darling Ophelia, whose death at her own hands is not strictly intentional, it is the object of condemnation by the clergy. My own indifference to religion and refusal to credit any babble about an afterlife has, alas, denied me the hearty satisfaction experienced by Ophelia’s brother Laertes, who whirls on the moralizing cleric to say:

“I tell thee, churlish priest,

A ministering angel shall my sister be,

When thou liest howling.”

Memorable to be sure, but too dependent on the evil and stupidity of the heaven/hell dualism, and of scant use to me in deciding how it was that a thoughtful, loving, cheerful, person like Yvonne, who was in reasonable health, would want to simply give up.

I thought it might have something to do with what the specialists call “anhedonia,” or the sudden inability to derive pleasure from anything, most especially from the pleasurable. Al Alverez, in his very testing and demanding study of the subject, “The Savage God,” returns often to the suicide of Cesare Pavese, who took his own life at the apparent height of his powers.  

Don't stay here

“In the year before he died he turned out two of his best novels… One month before the end he received the Strega Prize, the supreme accolade for an Italian writer. ‘I have never been so much alive as now,’ he wrote, ‘never so young.’ A few days later he was dead. Perhaps the sweetness itself of his creative powers made his innate depression all the harder to bear.”

***

Thank you for reading.

-Lance

(We now return you to our regularly scheduled…)

For Reference:

 

I love Helena Bonham Carter… Cannot help myself. (This scene is disturbing: do Not Watch)

If You Watch Nothing Else, Please Please PLEASE  Watch This:

Credit: And watch it AGAIN!

Here now (I hope) is the proper credit:

https://www.youtube.com/user/jakuerika