Simply because, “An uneducated proletariat is a danger to freedom.”
That is My Lance Quote; I just made it up. But, Goddamn it! I do believe it.
“Aw Shit! Lance dun gone Commie on us!. Git a rope!”
Not at all. Nope. Cool yer Heels Cowboy! Lance just knows something has gone horribly wrong…with His Texas, and more importantly, with His America. It used to be His America.
Now, it seems. It ain’t.
*End of Rant*
If you have come thus far…
Well; you are a Commie!
(Just kidding)
And of course…My National Anthem:
Just for Multi-Media Attention:
If You don’t want to stand in-line…well… REFORM
(If Y’all don’t catch my drift… well then:
I am writing with no ink in my virtual pen.
And the line forms to the right.
Get in-line!
And have fun.
And y’all thought I was bull-shitting when I posted a previous Rant:
I just recently completed a Mark Twain Marathon, by Ken Burns.
“Good for you, Lance Marcom; we are happy you are soooo.. much into (Our) American History…”
I wanted such a telegram, but, alas, there are no telegrams today.
So, it may seem I was born too late…
For such Liberty.
No matter.
WE, We, WE can forge our own liberty, in that same same spirit.
If we have the wherewithal.
Alas, I fear we have not.
We have the Constitution; we have The Law of Our Land; we have Our Precedent…
Alas, we have not the will
The Will, we lack . Today .
This was to be… a simple American Call to Arms.
Alas, I do not know if I am young enuff to muster:
My time has long since past.
I have not the passion to fight yet another war.
Lord knows (and that is a metaphor) I have NOT the will, nor the strength to fight such a war, yet, I am there, in spirit. I would gladly die for MY Country: My long lost America.
Rebel? Most Certainly.
Rebellious against my country?
Never
Therein lies that dilemma,
Not I! For I am too old, and this kind of business falls to younger men
BUT, when I see the masses, the masses, in squalor, I get pissed.
Really pissed.
When CEO’s in this country make ten thousand times more than the workers…
Well, it upsets me.
(any geographical or grammatical errors are surely mine. I do apologize)
These opinions are solely mine own.
Yet, I welcome our modern-day NSA to come knock on MY DOOR.
I certainly do.
Now…
I can finally be sated (for now)
And…I am gonna continue with this for some few weeks, until I give up…
But, Y’all know, when I get unto a ‘kick’ I hang on.
So…we shall see.
–Lance Out
Wow Lance! THAT was some long-winded RANT!
heheheheh
No Worries: Nobody Read it but The NSA of the USA.
This is a long series. Anyone who slogs thru it gets a free Mickey Mouse Pencil Sharpener–Color of your choice. Free shipping. (Links to the chapters are in the bodies of the bodies…)
For Louisiana
And for all the Dark-Eyed, Dark-Haired, Dark-Demeanor’d Dark-Complicated–Dark-Complexion-ated Cajun Womeninthe world.
(Those with the Sloe-Gin Eyes–and all that implies.)
I “Almost” Had A Cajun GF in Lake Charles,
But I Somehow Managed to Fuck That UP!
As is Always My Wont
Cajun Cajun Raging Cajun Woman
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
“Any resemblance to persons living or dead should be plainly apparent to them and those who know them, especially if the author has been kind enough to have provided their real names and in some cases, their phone numbers.
All events described herein actually happened, though on occasion the author has taken certain, very small liberties with chronology, because that is his right as an American. Warning: this story will [eventually] have drugs in it [specifically, Pot] read at your own annoyance.”
–Stolen From Various Sources while illegally surfing the internet using a U.S. Government Network and Computer
*********************
It was the Summer of ’77 and I had just dropped out of college (yet once again). There was an old friend of mine from high school living in Lake Charles, and pretty much on a bet I loaded up my ’68 Chevy Impala and drove to Louisiana to look him up.
Of course I had no idea where he lived in Lake Charles or what he was even doing there, but I knew Kim John and I knew that he would not be difficult to find even in a town of over one-hundred-thousand.
Really all I had to do was to find McNeese State University and ask around. For you see, Kim Jim/John was probably the most charismatic, outgoing, affable guy on Earth and I knew that even if he had only spent one week in Lake Charles, everyone would know him or know of him. He went to East Texas State in Commerce just long enough to pledge and become a Kappa Alpha.
That was his only driving ambition in life: to become a KA like his big brother and hang out with the Brothers. I despised Greeks and all their ways.
(Still today, these are not my favorite people. Kim James was my best friend, next to Peanut, and for many years before, even though we did not see eye-to-eye on many things and most especially, things Greek.)
It took me all of about 45 minutes to locate him once I arrived. He was living large in a beautiful apartment complex close to the university in the best apartment they had to offer: Two-story with four bedrooms, a large den/living room, three baths, a decent sized kitchen with a breakfast nook, a porch facing the pool—‘Classy” is all I could say when he showed me around.
He had a stereo in every room (All of them ‘Marantz’ because years before I had told him “Marantz makes the best, (and most expensive) audio equipment you can buy”.
He apparently never had forgotten that and I was properly impressed. Kim Jim always did his best it seems to impress me. To this day I am not sure why. It was just his way. Actually it was probably because I was the only one who really knew he was a fake and he knew that I knew.
In addition to the large pool, there were two tennis courts, a game room, outdoor dining room, a sauna, and all the ‘beautiful’ people of McNeese lived there, or so it seemed to my small-town eyes.
One of the upstairs rooms had a balcony overlooking the pool and the tennis courts. Wonderful.
*****************
Against my better judgment, I will continue this story, if I get just one request. It is rather long…
Someone let me know, but be not hasty in your remarks, as this one could land that fictional character in prison.
Is the prose worth it?
Well, the story is just that good, so I suppose so, since the author will be the one to do the hard time.
I never gave two shits for the heat anyhow…
(In light of recent events in NYC, I retract the above statement, 22 December, 2014)
This is a long series. Anyone who slogs thru it gets a free Mickey Mouse Pencil Sharpener–Color of your choice. Free shipping. (Links to the chapters are in the bodies of the bodies…)
For Louisiana
And for all the Dark-Eyed, Dark-Haired, Dark-Demeanor’d Dark-Complicated–Dark-Complexion-ated Cajun Women in the world.
You May Have My Soul!
It is Some-What Slightly Used and Abused!
(Those with the Sloe-Gin Eyes–and all that implies.)
I “Almost” Had A Cajun GF in Lake Charles,
But I Somehow Managed to Fuck That UP!
As is Always My Wont
Cajun Cajun Raging Cajun Woman
Dark Eyes!
Great Thighs!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
“Any resemblance to persons living or dead should be plainly apparent to them and those who know them, especially if the author has been kind enough to have provided their real names and in some cases, their phone numbers.
All events described herein actually happened, though on occasion the author has taken certain, very small liberties with chronology, because that is his right as an American. Warning: this story will [eventually] have drugs in it [specifically, Pot] read at your own annoyance.”
–Stolen From Various Sources while illegally surfing the internet using a U.S. Government Network and Computer
*********************
It was the Summer of ’77 and I had just dropped out of college (yet once again). There was an old friend of mine from high school living in Lake Charles, and pretty much on a bet I loaded up my ’68 Chevy Impala and drove to Louisiana to look him up.
Of course I had no idea where he lived in Lake Charles or what he was even doing there, but I knew Kim John and I knew that he would not be difficult to find even in a town of over one-hundred-thousand.
Really all I had to do was to find McNeese State University and ask around. For you see, Kim Jim/John was probably the most charismatic, outgoing, affable guy on Earth and I knew that even if he had only spent one week in Lake Charles, everyone would know him or know of him. He went to East Texas State in Commerce just long enough to pledge and become a Kappa Alpha.
That was his only driving ambition in life: to become a KA like his big brother and hang out with the Brothers. I despised Greeks and all their ways.
(Still today, these are not my favorite people. Kim James was my best friend, next to Peanut, and for many years before, even though we did not see eye-to-eye on many things and most especially, things Greek.)
It took me all of about 45 minutes to locate him once I arrived. He was living large in a beautiful apartment complex close to the university in the best apartment they had to offer: Two-story with four bedrooms, a large den/living room, three baths, a decent sized kitchen with a breakfast nook, a porch facing the pool—‘Classy” is all I could say when he showed me around.
He had a stereo in every room (All of them ‘Marantz’ because years before I had told him “Marantz makes the best, (and most expensive) audio equipment you can buy”.
He apparently never had forgotten that and I was properly impressed. Kim Jim always did his best it seems to impress me. To this day I am not sure why. It was just his way. Actually it was probably because I was the only one who really knew he was a fake and he knew that I knew.
In addition to the large pool, there were two tennis courts, a game room, outdoor dining room, a sauna, and all the ‘beautiful’ people of McNeese lived there, or so it seemed to my small-town eyes.
One of the upstairs rooms had a balcony overlooking the pool and the tennis courts. Wonderful.
*****************
Against my better judgment, I will continue this story, if I get just one request. It is rather long…
Someone let me know, but be not hasty in your remarks, as this one could land that fictional character in prison.
Is the prose worth it?
Well, the story is just that good, so I suppose so, since the author will be the one to do the hard time.
I never gave two shits for the heat anyhow…
(In light of recent events in NYC, I retract the above statement, 22 December, 2014)
“Any resemblance to persons living or dead should be plainly apparent to them and those who know them, especially if the author has been kind enough to have provided their real names and in some cases, their phone numbers. All events described herein actually happened, though on occasion the author has taken certain, very small liberties with chronology, because that is his right as an American. Warning: this story will [eventually] have drugs in it [specifically, Pot] read at your own annoyance.”
–Stolen From Various Sources while illegally surfing the internet using a U.S. Government Network and Computer
*********************
It was the Summer of ’77 and I had just dropped out of college (yet once again). There was an old friend of mine from high school living in Lake Charles, and pretty much on a bet I loaded up my ’68 Chevy Impala and drove to Louisiana to look him up. Of course I had no idea where he lived in Lake Charles or what he was even doing there, but I knew Kim John and I knew that he would not be difficult to find even in a town of over one-hundred-thousand.
Really all I had to do was to find McNeese State University and ask around. For you see, Kim Jim/John was probably the most charismatic, outgoing, affable guy on Earth and I knew that even if he had only spent one week in Lake Charles, everyone would know him or know of him. He went to East Texas State in Commerce just long enough to pledge and become a Kappa Alpha.
That was his only driving ambition in life: to become a KA like his big brother and hang out with the Brothers. I despised Greeks and all their ways. (Still today, these are not my favorite people. Kim James was my best friend, next to Peanut, and for many years before, even though we did not see eye-to-eye on many things and most especially, things Greek.)
It took me all of about 45 minutes to locate him once I arrived. He was living large in a beautiful apartment complex close to the university in the best apartment they had to offer: Two-story with four bedrooms, a large den/living room, three baths, a decent sized kitchen with a breakfast nook, a porch facing the pool—‘Classy” is all I could say when he showed me around.
He had a stereo in every room (All of them ‘Marantz’ because years before I had told him “Marantz makes the best, (and most expensive) audio equipment you can buy”. He apparently never had forgotten that and I was properly impressed. Kim Jim always did his best it seems to impress me. To this day I am not sure why. It was just his way. Actually it was probably because I was the only one who really knew he was a fake and he knew that I knew.
In addition to the large pool, there were two tennis courts, a game room, outdoor dining room, a sauna, and all the ‘beautiful’ people of McNeese lived there, or so it seemed to my small-town eyes.
One of the upstairs rooms had a balcony overlooking the pool and the tennis courts. Wonderful.
*****************
Against my better judgment, I will continue this story, if I get just one request. It is rather long…
Someone let me know, but be not hasty in your remarks, as this one could land that fictional character in prison.
Is the prose worth it?
Well, the story is just that good, so I suppose so, since the author will be the one to do the hard time.
I never gave two shits for the heat anyhow…
(In light of recent events in NYC, I retract the above statement, 22 December, 2014)
This is a long series. Anyone who slogs thru it gets a free Mickey Mouse Pencil Sharpener–Color of your choice. Free shipping. (Links to the chapters are in the bodies of the bodies…)
For Louisiana
And for all the Dark-Eyed, Dark-Haired, Dark-Demeanor’d Dark-Complicated–Dark-Complexion-ated Cajun Womeninthe world.
(Those with the Sloe-Gin Eyes–and all that implies.)
I “Almost” Had A Cajun GF in Lake Charles,
But I Somehow Managed to Fuck That UP!
As is Always My Wont
Cajun Cajun Raging Cajun Woman
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
“Any resemblance to persons living or dead should be plainly apparent to them and those who know them, especially if the author has been kind enough to have provided their real names and in some cases, their phone numbers.
All events described herein actually happened, though on occasion the author has taken certain, very small liberties with chronology, because that is his right as an American. Warning: this story will [eventually] have drugs in it [specifically, Pot] read at your own annoyance.”
–Stolen From Various Sources while illegally surfing the internet using a U.S. Government Network and Computer
*********************
It was the Summer of ’77 and I had just dropped out of college (yet once again). There was an old friend of mine from high school living in Lake Charles, and pretty much on a bet I loaded up my ’68 Chevy Impala and drove to Louisiana to look him up.
Of course I had no idea where he lived in Lake Charles or what he was even doing there, but I knew Kim John and I knew that he would not be difficult to find even in a town of over one-hundred-thousand.
Really all I had to do was to find McNeese State University and ask around. For you see, Kim Jim/John was probably the most charismatic, outgoing, affable guy on Earth and I knew that even if he had only spent one week in Lake Charles, everyone would know him or know of him. He went to East Texas State in Commerce just long enough to pledge and become a Kappa Alpha.
That was his only driving ambition in life: to become a KA like his big brother and hang out with the Brothers. I despised Greeks and all their ways.
(Still today, these are not my favorite people. Kim James was my best friend, next to Peanut, and for many years before, even though we did not see eye-to-eye on many things and most especially, things Greek.)
It took me all of about 45 minutes to locate him once I arrived. He was living large in a beautiful apartment complex close to the university in the best apartment they had to offer: Two-story with four bedrooms, a large den/living room, three baths, a decent sized kitchen with a breakfast nook, a porch facing the pool—‘Classy” is all I could say when he showed me around.
He had a stereo in every room (All of them ‘Marantz’ because years before I had told him “Marantz makes the best, (and most expensive) audio equipment you can buy”.
He apparently never had forgotten that and I was properly impressed. Kim Jim always did his best it seems to impress me. To this day I am not sure why. It was just his way. Actually it was probably because I was the only one who really knew he was a fake and he knew that I knew.
In addition to the large pool, there were two tennis courts, a game room, outdoor dining room, a sauna, and all the ‘beautiful’ people of McNeese lived there, or so it seemed to my small-town eyes.
One of the upstairs rooms had a balcony overlooking the pool and the tennis courts. Wonderful.
*****************
Against my better judgment, I will continue this story, if I get just one request. It is rather long…
Someone let me know, but be not hasty in your remarks, as this one could land that fictional character in prison.
Is the prose worth it?
Well, the story is just that good, so I suppose so, since the author will be the one to do the hard time.
I never gave two shits for the heat anyhow…
(In light of recent events in NYC, I retract the above statement, 22 December, 2014)
Shit! This needs to be placed further down, but WordPress is Fukking Stupid. So I am forced to place it here:
Git a Rope
“Cocksucker”
“Two Four Letter Words And A Preposition”
lmfao
P.S., the Fonts in this post ar’ all fucked up. I’m too lazy to fix them. I hope yu can read. If’n Ya wanna….PPS This Post is Rather ZObnoxious and Insulting. If Your Skin Be Thin, Don’t Read It. Just go somewhere else.
****
Judge Aaron Albamiser& Lenny Bruce: “Thick Fingers and a Homemade Glass Eye.” “A Red-Headed Junk-yard Jew.”
–Lenny
He Said “Blah Blah Blah”
Friends, Romans, (Progressive Texans) & Others:
(Don’t some of Y’all hate to be classified as ‘Others’?
Smacks of Intellectual Racism to me, but that’s just me.)
Don’t you fain to disclaim?
Me no Alamo!
How does it feel?
How does it feel?
How the fuck does it feel?
To be on the long side of the short fence?
For Real?
Lend Me Your Beers!
(And yer FB password. Trust Me. I’m with the Government.)
Here is your (once again belated) Daily Lenny:
And Thanks for Listening, wherever you are.
And now I am gonna step out on a limb and say this:
I am with my Brothers and Sisters in the Ukraine.
Keep your eyes on the prize.
(And I do not speak that flippantly; I mean it. The whole world is watching)
Oh, and thanks for listening (Did I say that already?)
Well hell! Appreciation can never be over-played (if it is sincere)
In this case, rest assur’d it is (“Hey Madge?! Did he mean ‘over-played’ or ‘sincere’? Can never get a ‘read’ on this schmuck.”)
Cheers to all.
And if you’d get a kick reading/hearing more about it, go here:
Simply because, “An uneducated proletariat is a danger to freedom.”
That is My Lance Quote; I just made it up. But, Goddamn it! I do believe it.
“Aw Shit! Lance dun gone Commie on us!. Git a rope!”
Not at all. Nope. Cool yer Heels Cowboy! Lance just knows something has gone horribly wrong…with His Texas, and more importantly, with His America. It used to be His America.
Now, it seems. It ain’t.
*End of Rant*
If you have come thus far…
Well; you are a Commie!
(Just kidding)
And of course…My National Anthem:
Just for Multi-Media Attention:
If You don’t want to stand in-line…well… REFORM
(If Y’all don’t catch my drift… well then:
I am writing with no ink in my virtual pen.
And the line forms to the right.
Get in-line!
And have fun.
And y’all thought I was bull-shitting when I posted a previous Rant:
I just recently completed a Mark Twain Marathon, by Ken Burns.
“Good for you, Lance Marcom; we are happy you are soooo.. much into (Our) American History…”
I wanted such a telegram, but, alas, there are no telegrams today.
So, it may seem I was born too late…
For such Liberty.
No matter.
WE, We, WE can forge our own liberty, in that same same spirit.
If we have the wherewithal.
Alas, I fear we have not.
We have the Constitution; we have The Law of Our Land; we have Our Precedent…
Alas, we have not the will
The Will, we lack . Today .
This was to be… a simple American Call to Arms.
Alas, I do not know if I am young enuff to muster:
My time has long since past.
I have not the passion to fight yet another war.
Lord knows (and that is a metaphor) I have NOT the will, nor the strength to fight such a war, yet, I am there, in spirit. I would gladly die for MY Country: My long lost America.
Rebel? Most Certainly.
Rebellious against my country?
Never
Therein lies that dilemma,
Not I! For I am too old, and this kind of business falls to younger men
BUT, when I see the masses, the masses, in squalor, I get pissed.
Really pissed.
When CEO’s in this country make ten thousand times more than the workers…
Well, it upsets me.
(any geographical or grammatical errors are surely mine. I do apologize)
These opinions are solely mine own.
Yet, I welcome our modern-day NSA to come knock on MY DOOR.
I certainly do.
Now…
I can finally be sated (for now)
And…I am gonna continue with this for some few weeks, until I give up…
But, Y’all know, when I get unto a ‘kick’ I hang on.
So…we shall see.
–Lance Out
Wow Lance! THAT was some long-winded RANT!
heheheheh
No Worries: Nobody Read it but The NSA of the USA.
