WALTER, Or ‘Big City, Turn Me Loose & Set Me Free’ “Keep Ur Retirement & Yer So-Call’d ‘Social Security'” LMFAO!

And Like A Good Neighbor… State Farm is There!

Grapes of my WRATH

Stand By!

Justice is A-Comin’

A Beautiful Day in My Neighborhood

I am gonna attempt to re-count this as accurately and as honestly, as it is a TRUTH Story.

So there I was, my butt firmly ensconced and welded to my cheap beach chair, happily listening to Merle:

“Big City”

BTW, Ask me About Merle–He Did Some Hard-Time in San Quentin

Ronnie Pardoned Him

Go Figger!

Bacck in some day.. I wr’ke for a man, Joe Whitley–

Screw’d his Daughter too

He looked and acted exactly Like Merle Haggard.

I loved him.


I did NOT Love His Daughter,

Although I do now, Brown Cow!


There came a knock upon my door.

I yelled, OK, didn’t yell. I said, “Hang on; I’m a-comin’”

Got the door open and was greeted by the visage of a BBM—Big-Black-Man.

I was born’d, rear’d & raised to be a racist asshole, so natch, my first thought was “Now where did I put my Glock Nine?”

(I continue to ‘Work That Problem, but old rearin’s die hard, slow painful deaths)

Another aside: I was Raised in Ladonia, Texas by a wonderful old black lady, Her name was ‘Jenella’–I loved her

Until I was told I Shouldn’t–Couldn’t–NOT OUR Way!



Turns out I didn’t need it–The Glock

Standing in my doorway was a pleasant-faced big-black-man.

“Hi” he said. “My name’s Walter. I am your neighbor,”

I stepped out onto my ‘porch’ and said,

“Hiyas Walter, my name is ‘Lance’ and I am also apparently your neighbor. What’s up?”

“Uh…” He hesitated, “Could you please turn down the volume on your music—I can hear it through my wall,”

“What? You not a Merle Haggard fan?”

“Uh… Yeah, I am, but not right now; not today; too early.”

I laughed and extended my hand.

He took it and shook it.

“Walter,” I said, “I will certainly do as you ask. Not often do tenants in this town have the decency nor courage, to simply take the matter of the problem to the source. I admire that in a man, and I apologize for my too loud Merle. Nice to know brave, decent folk live in my ‘Hood’—That’s a joke, by the way.”

“Thanks and I get the joke.” he said. And walked back to his Mouse-House,

I retired back to mine and went searchin’ for my headphones…

And Rainbows

Cred: MTB


Y’all see?

This is HOW it is Supposed to BE:

Decent people, doing decent things. Respecting– No “Callin’ Up The Management!

Just Communicate!

Be Decent!

Respect Fellow Humans.

That is ALL it Takes

Simple as That.


That Thing Called Respect

Cred: Sunny Shin


A short film on respect

That is ALL it Ever Takes.


Why have most lost this basic knowledge?

I now know I have at least one decent neighbor who has earned my Respect.

I hope to earn his.


P.S. Those of Y’all Who are Astute

May Have Noticed

That I Always (Well Mostly…)

Credit Those of Whom I ‘Steal’ Content.

This is just my Way.


We Good??


We Great!


Good People – Jack Johnson

Must Be… A Stream of Consciousness. Honesty-Time: I Always ‘Rapidly Post A Post’–Just to Look at it–Once I Think I Have Found It ‘Done’


Perhaps Just A Train Wreck?

You Decide!

Cred fer Vid: Charlie Dean Archives

Some Broad, Back In Sand-Dog,

Once Called Me A ‘Train-Wreck–Going Somewhere To Happen’

Now I Know Why

Smart Woman–She Was–Her Name was…

Wait For It…



But, I Can NEVER Just Walk On By…

So I Drop This In Here,

Simply ‘Cuz I Just Cannot Find A Proper Place For It:

“The literary device ‘stream of consciousness’ is the continuous flow of thoughts of a person and recorded, thereof, in literature as they occur. In other words, it means to capture a continuous stream of thoughts into words and then scribble them on paper for others to read.”


News Flash: It Ain’t Never Done!

Not In MY Estimation. Ever’Thang is a Work-In-Progress–

The Reason I Continue to Wake-Up, Most Mornings

So I Go Back and Edit it to Within an Inch of its Natural Life–

Call it ‘A Character Flaw’–if you Must.


I AM a GOOD Person

G’Damn It!

Since I cannot think up anything ‘new’ (or old) to write, thought I would just try to bullshit my way through a new post.

Why Not?

Here goes. Hold onto your socks.

Reflecting upon what has ‘happened’ to me over the past month or so…

Mostly bad, but now I see the light at the end of the tunnel

And it ain’t no train.

Thanks Be To Baby Hey Zeus!

Recall that I was evicted from my last apartment:

So What did I do?

Got so drunk and engulfed in self-pity that I drank myself into a stupid stupor.

A Matter of Course, Of course.

Ended up Back in Re-Hab.


(No worries’ I have ‘Frequent – Flyer Miles’ on the books with them—didn’t cost me a dime.)

While there, was informed that all my worldly possessions had been taken from my ‘Mouse-House’ and cast into Purgatory—I mean ‘Storage’

Everything I own was haphazardly tossed into some storage closet in some dark, dank shit-hole:

All my expensive computers, monitors, precious memory items—basically, my entire life—Unceremoniously and carelessly hurled into oblivion.

Cutting to the chase—me chasing my tale—I was eventually released from the loving arms/secure nest of Glen Oaks and not Un-Like a newly-born bird, managed to ‘fly’ back home, which was now just my Ford Explorer.


After much stressful Tribulations & Try-Angle-Accusations, I managed to find me where I reside today: Pecan Tree Apartments, A Six-Unit Complex. I love it. Not only is the Manager Nice to me; she don’t judge me. When I initially filled out the Rental Application, I had to admit I had just been evicted from my last digs.

She said, “We don’t get too worried ‘bout stuff like that. You got money for move-in costs?”

“Yep. Sure do.”

(Thanks to the BEST Girl-Friend in My Known Universe: Roberta)

“Sign here and welcome to the neighborhood.”

‘Marriage’ made in Heaven.

An aside: About a week after I had taken up residence, The Manager and her Co-Manager brought me a micro-wave oven which had been left behind by some former tenant AND also a whole bag of ‘Goodies’—cleaning products, microwave popcorn, dish-towels, et-cetera.

I could not wrap my mind around such human kindness—surely I was dreaming—turns out, I wasn’t. It was all too for real.

Seems I had finally found me a home.

Street Cred: Buffett


Oh, You may ask,

 “Lance, where is the ‘Stream O’ Consciousness?’ This post seems too contrived—too Convoluted, too thought out.”

“Relax. It’s coming–The Un-Convoluted Part

To be continued…

I tried real Hard to Make a Magical Mystery Tour Vid of my New Apartment, but I guess I’m too frickin’ STUPID to make that work.

I’m a genius with computers,

‘Made’ This one–By Hand:

but phones fu*k up my mind–I guess I need a ten year old daughter to help me–On my ‘to-do’ list:

Make me a ten-year-old daughter.

What?! Too late, you say?!

Well Shit!

Anyway, for what it’s worth, here are a few photos:

Le Boudoir

The Galley

The ‘Hemingway’ Desk

My Single Bed

“Hey! I wanna Love You–in my Single Bed!”

(Sorry Bob)

Le ‘Room, Wife of Bath’

To Be Continued

Or Not

Probably Not.

On This Blog You Don’t Pay No Money, You don’t Take Your Chances–

Please Note: I Do NOT Take No Dollars From Advertising Pukes–EVER!

Just Wanted to Remind Y’all

Of That



Street Cred: hawkwyd

And Yes! I Love Everything About Cats!

Cynthia Just Re-Tunr’d Up To My Door–She Had Escaped Hospital! (As I Have Done–Far Too Many Times) Please Re-Look. OK. O’Kay? Warning! This Post Makes NO SENSE! And The ‘See-quents’ of ‘Events are all fukk’d UP.

I Hugged Her Far Too Deep

I Purr’d in her ear:

“I Love You Cynthia”

Yada, Yada Yada! Just give me the G’Damn Bread-Spread!”

She Re-Coiled

At My Embrace!

Who Could Blame her?”

Crazy White boy?

She asked me if I wanted her to wash my Bed-Spread

I said,

“No! You already work too

Hard for your money”

She just said,

“Shut the fuk up and give it to me.”

I did, without even a whimper

She Left.

Avec My Bed-Spred


Madonna – Hung Up

Yeah! I love



Git Over it!

(Had NOT Seen her in Gog Knows Forever!

So Cynthia Promised To Lend … Me Some Money To a Moron, (C’est Moi) And Schlep Him to The Liquor Store This Afternoon, So That DT Man Would Haunt His Door No More.

I Am Bless’d By An Angel.

Juice Newton – Angel Of The Morning:

I’m Sorry to be an asshole, but her hair ain’t there. It’s Fake


Cynthia works hard for her money

Donna/Cynthia Works Hard for the Money:

Cred For Vid Share: Donna

Since Cynthia is always so busy, I lay down for a nap and waited.

Woke up from my coma

Thinking she had not been there/here

Then I discovered this parked (below foto) by my head

(I am such an asshole to ever have doubted her good graciousness)

And now I just found out she is not well

I Hope She is OK

I don’t wanna walk around on a planet without her on it


“There Must Be Some Kind of Way Outta Here.”

The Jimi Hendrix Experience –

All Along The Watchtower

Cred: Jimi–Must I really Verbalize It?–Sheesh!


I truly am Blessed

Not By Some Man-Made Bullshit Fake Deity,

But By a TRUE Friend

And Yu Gotta Have Friends


I LOVE You My Cynthia!

More Than Cash MoneyPlease get Well!


DT Man Scares The Shit Outta Me!

(And I Don’t Scare Easily)

He’s An Evil Relentless Mutha-Fukker Bastard

My Savanna Erstwhile GF (You Know The One–If You Have Been Paying Attention) Did A Generous, Glorious, Selfless Thang: She Sent Me Yet Another ‘Care Package’–Perhaps She Does Truly Love Me After-All? Naw!

We Do Have a Bit of A...




She Sent To me…

Wait for it…

“Instant Chili!”

Yet Alas!

She Forgot The Picante Sauce, but What-The-Hell, Right?!

I Can Forgive Her That Small Over-Slight

Still Happy, Happy Lance!


She Sent to Me:

Now This Would Have Been A ‘Texas Travesty

Years and Beers & Tears Ago

But My Times & Situations Have Changed.

And I Appreciated This!


Chili is Groovy!

By Steve Miller Band

Good Ole TEXAS Band!

Cred Fer Texas Share: Playtime 24×7

I am Livin’ A Charmed Life

If Only ONE Person Loves Me,

I am Way Ahead Of The Game

What I Don’t Deserve To Win


And I Am Very Thankful For What I’ve Got:

Cred: Curtis

Very Early Christmas Musings: “Fuk Me! I Am / Have Been, Blessed by An Angel–A For Real Christmas Story–Just Happened, Moments Ago… There are still Good People in This World. Sadly, I am not one of Them.”

Joni is so F^#king Charming

I love her!


Joni is an American/Canadian Patriot—Wanna argue This Point? I am All Fricken Ears

Please see ‘other’ posts for credit…


I Cannot Find This Lovely Lady’s Name to give Her Proper Creds–

Someone Please Help Me Out–

It is Important to me to give proper credit

I actually ‘talked’ to her on the Internet some years and beers ago—

She was doing a Pod-Cast

She was so charming and graceful to me—


Who could’a knew?

A Very Pleasant Surprise

I’ll Always Adore Her




I Found Her Name:

Delila Paz


I was sittin’ in front of my comp, wallowing in my own self-pity.

Yet one more Christmas spent all alone in some shit-hole.

Listening to Crit Drinker, pontificating over the recent state / demise of the MCU

There was a knock upon my door.

I grabbed my Glock

Went to the door

Who did I discover standing there?


Bearing gifts!

Fuck me!

(I put my pistol away)

I was visited by an angel

I grasped and held her tight and tole her how much I did lover her, then I asked her: Why are you so good to me?

She simply said,

“Because you served our country”

How does she know this? I don’t talk to no one; I don’t make a habit of wearing my service on my sleeve, not here anyway, only on my Blog Page….

How does she know?


I went back inside

And wept.

I wept tears of Joy

Tears of Joy.

This is a true story

I have the Receipts:

I Never Take Good People For granted

She looked at some game she had put into the box, said, Not sure if you like silly games, but my kids like this one, Hope you do too

All I could do to keep from crying

Out loud!

Why? Why? Why??

Why did she do this?

For Me???

I am NOT Worthy of This!!!

This UnSolicited Kindness!

Merry Christmas!

Author’s Note:

The “Order” of this is slightly skew’d–I wro’t it in a hurry-slurry right after the event. I am still in shock

May God ALWAYS Bless Latrish

She is SUCH Good People

I Cannot Believe What Just Happened To/For Me!

I am Blessed by Good People

I was re-reading my recent post, pondering if I wanted to fuk around Anymore with it, by way of edit.

There came a faint, polite knock upon my back door.

I opened it (of course–I have no fear.)

Standing there…

Woman with a bag in her hand.

“I have all this food left over”

She handed me the bag. (Supper AND Breakfast Contained Therein! Unbelievable!)

I set it down and said

“Come here You–Don’t worry. I have had my WuFlu Fauci Ouchie.

I embraced her.

“God Bless you,” (Which is a Stretch–me the Atheist) I said “And by the way, I am no good with names. What’s your name again?” (She was one of the ones who had brought me Thanksgiving supper.)

“Latrise” she said.

“I am gonna write that down.”

I embraced her again.

She left.

I wept

Joy and happiness.

Someone cared.

Why do black women treat me so kind?

This has always been so. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why, but I love it. And I love and Respect them.

Perhaps therein lies the rub.

Respect & Respect & Respect

And Love

Al Green – Love and Happiness


jeremy zucker & chelsea cutler – you were good to me