Hey! I’m Writing Here! (Once Again)

Now, C’mon Y’all.

Vid Credit: Guyism

I am just having fun, exploring (exploiting?) some of my inane, insane, In-Same, recent posts.

And of course, I love to ‘share my wares.’ Because I am just that vain (don’t ask me why or how I justify that statement.)

So there!

If I post something you have already ready read, sorry…

New shit will be forthcoming.

And soon. And I promise. And the check is in the mail and I won’t… do that in… “Ah don’t go there Lance.”

But, in the meantime:

And not to put too fine a point on it (trite, yep): My writing and my posts are ‘all over some places…’  But ‘Twould behoove to follow some of the links, as I find them entertaining. (Your individual experience may vary, and even differ, or beg to)

***

Hey! I’m writing here!

(Fleeting thoughts seem to fly away. Okay? That’s Okay, Right? Isn’t it?)

Credit: https://www.youtube.com/user/mattfosternow

It is easy

“Now Go fuck off and leave me alone. And while you are leavin’ me alone, make me some more coffee.”

“Please.”

“and thanks for the pepperoni.”

(Sorry.. vague Lenny Bruce reference)

I actually said this aloud to my much maligned invisible muse. Bless her heart.

The dog walked over to me an inquired, “Hey! Rance!” (he cannot pronounce my name. He is a dog after all) “Rance,” he said. “You OK Bubba?”

(Overheard by some fly on some wall in some other multi-verse.)

Probably it was just the wind.

***

‘Tax Day’ (they say) Means nada to me: means  Bupkis! (great Yiddish word: use it in a sentence today and then it is yours for all of maternity)

Why? “‘Cause I had no income last year. That’s why!”

Oy vey! Yep! Good thing ‘bout that there: No taxes.

Moving on to today’s post…

(Oh yeah: first order of business: “The Daily Lenny”)

Well, You May Find it here, whisked into a long post about a mechanic. Yes. You will have to work to find it. So Sorry.

Let us paws for a second.

(Goddamnit Lance! Enuff with the fucking puns!)

Take a breath.

“This is swerving dangerously close to being another rant.”

*sigh*

“Yes. I know.”

*Moving on…*

Now Where was I?

Oh Yeah!

Taxes!

Not really.

CNN?

Nope (but theirBreaking Newsis ‘bout to break my spirit and my capacity to love anyone)

Serious for one second. I weep for those family who lost family on That Plane.

*Whew! Now we got that sentiment out of the way…*

Still trying to Move On Dot Org…

(Just kidding—I do not even know where that is)

More Breaking Fucking News!

Some idiot on CNN just said, “Let us be Frank.” (and Tom, Dick, and Harry)

(not sure in reference to what—generally—I only half-listen, but that one caught some vacant, unused part of my ear)

*Still trying to move on and find a purpose for this purposeless post*

Y’all know what?

This is gonna be an “all-day” project.

There is just too much shit running about in my head.

I will get back you.

As they say:

To be continued…

He Went to Paris: I can smell the Darkness

paris.jpg

And he went to England; played the piano, married an actress maimed “Kim:”…  She was a good wife… I loved her.

This is a continuation, albeit a flashback, to my story of Janet and Random Memories from The Middle East.

Months before the events inked here, here, here, and here, I found myself in Paris (actually two Paris’s—One Texan—One French). Confus’d yet? Stand by: it grows worse(r)

Let’s back up a mite (mites are hard to back up by the way, militarily that is: damn small and damn slippery, them mites… and they tend to mite-bite one, usually on one’s ass)

We call that “Green on Blue” and if you are following the recent news cycle, you will surely know that, that is inappropriate. But that is just how I roll. Screw Afghanistan and their pretended bullshit “We gonna take over security of our country…” Won’t happen. But after ten plus years there (and some several months there by me, after Iraq–got ‘liberated’–now there is yet another joke. I can speak to the idiocy that is ‘our’ foreign fallacy.

I was in Sinai, 1978 and I received a letter from my step-sis. This was not unusual back in those days, as we were still ‘speaking’. She sent me a rather long and boring letter regarding Honey Grove and all the ‘Happenings’ thereabouts. The letter was indeed ‘boring’ until I got to her ‘PS’. It read and I quote (loosely), “By the way, R is marrying J. Jesus-Beezus!”

This was, to me, devastation by way of bad.

Unspeakable news!

‘How could she?! She was MINE. Mine to mine and to have and to hold… just as soon as I finished with my wanderlust. How dare she?!” How DARE she?!

What to do?

Well, I had some R&R time ‘on the books’ so I hopped on a freighter (airplane), and flew back to Texas, ostensibly to break up the marriage, just like Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate. Problem was, was that I screwed up the dates and the logistics, and arrived not in time to bust up the wedding, but just in time to see the happy couple speeding off fast to Waco and their honeymoon.

Shit!

Never having been more depressed at missing a rendezvous, what to do? Rebound Son! Rebound!

So, I sought out Janet. Let’s call it a ‘bank shot rebound.’ I knew she was working at the Hopkins Lamar (See? To this day, I never know which county I am in)  County Courthouse as a probation officer, so I timed (this time, my timing was spot on) my entrance during her lunch break: Intercepted her coming down the stairs of the courthouse.

“Hey Janet!”

“Lance?”

“C’est moi! How’s Trix?”

“You are supposed to be in Egypt,” she said.

“I escaped,” I said. “Wanna have lunch?”

“Uh… Sure. Why not?” (Why not indeed)

We went to lunch. Then she took the rest of the day. We went to her apartment and drank gin. Later that eve, after I had regaled her with fantastical tales of the Middle of the East, she took a drag from her Virginia Slim and asked, “So are you gonna f*#k me tonight, or what?”

I said, “No Ma’am; I am gonna make love to you—something I should have done five years ago.”

So we did—I did—make love to her.

The problem now became that I had a plane to catch to that other Paris: that one in France. The other part of the problem was that my plane was waiting in Houston. I was about five hours at seventy miles per hour away from my Air France plane at Houston Intercontinental. I had to go. Now.

I hit the road to Houston, not really wanting to go, but I had promised my buddy Bart, Black Bart, that I would meet him in Paris on such and such a day. Naturally, I ended up missing my flight and arrived Paree a day late. On the taxi ride from Charles de Gaulle airport we drove under a bridge and the taxi car lost its windshield to a lone rifle shot. (my theory) “Terrorist?” I asked the cabby? (en français).

“Merde!” Was all he said, as he dodged the flying glass. I did not care anyhow, but this rather happenstance occurrence did not bode well for my first day in Gay Paree.

“There’s my hotel!” I exclaimed as he had managed to (somehow) keep driving.

I paid him off, got out of his now mangled, windshield-less cab and made my way into the cheap hotel lobby. Went up to my room, dropped my shit; then went looking for my buddy. Found him at last sitting on his rack, rather sullen in mood. I checked out his room. It had a wonderful view of the Eiffel Tower.

“So Bart,” I asked finally, “What have you done here in The City of Light for twenty-four hours?”

“You see that tower there?” he asked, pointing to the window.

“Yep,” I said. “That would be the Eiffel Tower.”

“Well, since you didn’t show, I went out on my own… and hey! Ya know what, they don’t speak English here? I went out on my own. (You mentioned that) Walked over to that tower, looked up at it—kicked it—and said to myself, ‘Yep. That there Bartamus, that there is the Eiffel Tower. Then I came back here and took a nap. And would you please tell that France Maid that I do not want no f*#kin’ breakfast? She wakes me up in the f*#king morning with her biscuits (‘croissants’ Asshole) and lousy coffee.”

“Sure Bart,” I said. “I will post a note, en français on yer door.”

“You speak France?”

“Oui.”

“Well Hot Damn then! You be Bogey. I’ll be Bacall.” (of course)

“I weren’t able to bust up the wedding.”

“What?”

“The Wedding.”

“Oh you mean between R and J?”

“Yep. That one, you moron.”

“Yer better off,” he said.

“OK. Then why am I so depressed?”

“Dunno. Did you have any other adventures while you were back In-The-World?”

“Matter of fact, I did. I hooked up with Janet.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nope. No bullshit. Why I missed my flight, in fact.”

“Well, I was just about pissed off at you, but now I unnerstand.”

“Thanks for that,” I said.

“Hey!” he said. “Let’s smoke a bowl and you can tell me all about it while we go and kick this town in the ass.”

“Light her up,” I said. We smoked and drank and then off we went stoned and semi-drunk and in Paris (France) Just two more ugly Americans (Texans)

Now Y’all…

I hesitated while choosing the vid to represent this post. Then I swerved onto this one below. It is somewhat depressing, yeah. But, but… This is how I see my life ending up. I hope you will take the time to watch, listen, and comment.

Vid Credit: 

John1948SevenA

Cheers,

Lance

To Be Continued… Hopefully.

“Losing his hearing, but he don’t care what most people say.”

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

“I feel like Hank Williams tonight”

JJ Walker

tex flag

Daily Lenny: John Kennedy, War Criminal?

The Much Anticipated Daily Lenny!

More Lenny Here:

https://texantales.com/category/lenny-bruce/ 

Bonus Track: Uncle Bob

Uncle Bob

And Thanks For Visiting

Dustin Hoffman as Lenny Bruce

Dustin Hoffman as Lenny Bruce

Daily Lenny: Performance Film

Here is more from his video recorded performance and yes, most of it is esoteric.

The only video of Lenny (real good video) is from when he was near death. He was most assuredly not at his ‘best’.

But this is all we have.

So we must run with it, because, in my not-so-humble-opinion, his worst was better than the best of Cable Guy, Foxworthy, and even fellow-Texan, Ron White. But that is just me. The only ones who can compare in my mind are George Carlin and Richard Pryor, and possibly Sarah Silverman or Sandra Bernhard.

Carlin RichardSarahSandra

And Thanks For Your Visit.

More Lenny Discovered Here

https://texantales.com/category/lenny-bruce/

Stealthily…

 

Hey! I’m Writing Here!

Hey! I’m writing here!

(Fleeting thoughts seem to fly away. Okay? That’s Okay, Right? Isn’t it?)

Credit: https://www.youtube.com/user/mattfosternow

It is easy

“Now Go fuck off and leave me alone. And while you are leavin’ me alone, make me some more coffee.”

“Please.”

“and thanks for the pepperoni.”

(Sorry.. vague Lenny Bruce reference)

I actually said this aloud to my much maligned invisible muse. Bless her heart.

The dog walked over to me an inquired, “Hey! Rance!” (he cannot pronounce my name. He is a dog after all) “Rance,” he said. “You OK Bubba?”

(Overheard by some fly on some wall in some other multi-verse.)

Probably it was just the wind.

***

‘Tax Day’ (they say) Means nada to me: means  Bupkis! (great Yiddish word: use it in a sentence today and then it is yours for all of maternity)

Why? “‘Cause I had no income last year. That’s why!”

Oy vey! Yep! Good thing ‘bout that there: No taxes.

Moving on to today’s post…

(Oh yeah: first order of business: “The Daily Lenny”)

Well, You May Find it here, whisked into a long post about a mechanic. Yes. You will have to work to find it. So Sorry.

Let us paws for a second.

(Goddamnit Lance! Enuff with the fucking puns!)

Take a breath.

“This is swerving dangerously close to being another rant.”

*sigh*

“Yes. I know.”

*Moving on…*

Now Where was I?

Oh Yeah!

Taxes!

Not really.

CNN?

Nope (but their ‘Breaking News’ is ‘bout to break my spirit and my capacity to love anyone)

Serious for one second. I weep for those family who lost family on That Plane.

*Whew! Now we got that sentiment out of the way…*

Still trying to Move On Dot Org…

(Just kidding—I do not even know where that is)

More Breaking Fucking News!

Some idiot on CNN just said, “Let us be Frank.” (and Tom, Dick, and Harry)

(not sure in reference to what—generally—I only half-listen, but that one caught some vacant, unused part of my ear)

*Still trying to move on and find a purpose for this purposeless post*

Y’all know what?

This is gonna be an “all-day” project.

There is just too much shit running about in my head.

I will get back you.

As they say:

To be continued…

Texan Assholes

Or… to put it another way:

“I was sick a’you a long time before that. Ya keep no check on yer appetites… makes you not fit to live with.”

–Melvin Douglas to Paul Newman “Hud.”

 A few of my favorite Texan Movie Clips in Honour of Texas Independence Day.

(Not all are assholes)

Hope you like them.

Please tell me of your favorite Texan – Based Movie. I know I have missed many… Bonnie and Clyde? Others?

Outside the sun is up

And the wind

Blows me like a paper cup

Down the highway

–B.W. Stevenson, Texan

I know there are some poets out there. Run with this one.