Moron!
WTF is he talking about?
Street Cred: Memology 101
Yep! Me Too Hey Zeus
***
Bonus Added Value:
“Morons”
“Who’s running the country?”
“The Morons.”
Smothers Brothers
Cred for Share: DrPowerfun
Falling into that world that is, yet not is…
That Nether World,
Which Doesn’t Exist,
Save Only In-My-Dreams
And for Any of Y’all Who wish to ‘Edit’ Me:
To My Fallow Writer
In-Sane ‘O-Tics:
Just Don’t.
Do Not attempt to Edit the Insane.
That could only end Badly.
***
Fly Me
‘Ole Blue Eyes
Cred: Frankie… Duh
***
***
I am a moron.
Just how I roll.
Ninety-Nine Percent of my Best Prose Never sees the Light of My… My… My Computer.
It just floats about in my head.
Lost in That Somnambulistic State of Glorious Oblivious Glee…
Gee!
When I am lying to me in me bed, I ‘write’ some very, very, Very Great Shite.
Alas, It don’t make it to the transmission point.
Once awake, It is Gone.
Forever.
Note to self: Keep a pen an’ pad next to Your Bed.-Instead
***
Some of my Best Posts languish away in my nether sleep
Alas
***
Golden Slumbers
“You Never Give Me Your Money, Only Your Situation”
Cred for Vid: el perro beatle
***
Note to Land-Lady:
The Money is Coming
On Monday
Any, even casual readers, would know, should know, how I love, respect, and admire Janis Ian.
First time I heard her, I was in the Sinai Desert. Her Music Moved Me Then, And Still does today
I said, “Do you wish me dead?”
Lip service to books you’ve read
Articles on how to bed a bird in flight
You called it love
I called it greed
You say, “You take what you want”
I said, “You get what you need”
Go on, be a hero, be a man
Make your own destiny if you can
Go find a fence
Locate a shell
And hide yourself, go on, go to hell!
Go away from me
I need no charity
Janis Ian handed my ass to me.
I deserved this.
(Because I am an asshole but had temporarily misplaced my ass.)
Janis returned it to me with not-so-well wishes.
I should have learned the truth at seventeen. But I didn’t. I am still studying and yet I remain optimistic for the future. Someday I just may become a real gentle…man
***
Janis Ian Message to me (on Facebook):
“Lance Marcom uh… I have no idea why you took off at me like that. I said people could share because inevitably, people post on threads asking if they can share. And I’m sorry if you were “triggered ” by my offer, but if offering the option to share some thoughts written by a very dear friend of mine – who by the way is not having a great year, and certainly has more urgent things to do with his time than the way you just spent yours – caused your upset… well then, take your triggered self somewhere else. If you’re that big a “fan”, you’d know how little I think of people who use “triggered ” as an excuse, or profanity as an attempt at English.
As to telling you to “fuck off” years ago, apparently I didn’t make myself clear enough at the time, though as you admit, I didn’t say that. However, your over the top responses and insults to everyone who responded show your self-pitying true self.
Apologies mean nothing if you’ve understood nothing, Lance. Apologies mean nothing if you’ve learned nothing. And it really is time for you to take your very sensitive triggered self and work on fixing your life, instead of interfering with mine.”
***
(After reading her proper ‘dress-down’, I retired to my “stupid corner” opened a can of worms and ate all of them–in shame)
“When payment due exceeds accounts received.”
I will always love you Janis.
You are a beautiful, brilliant, brilliant songwriter and performer.
******
“Don’t spoil it all; I can’t recall a time when you were struck without an answer.”
–Janis
“And For a dime I can talk to God.”
Dial a Prayer…
Are You There?
Do You Care?
Are You There?”
–Janis
On First Meeting Michelle—Did Not Go So Well–It Got Better, But Then I Screw’d It Up. As Is My Usual Wont.
There Seems To Be A Pattern Developing Here
The Beatles Live- Michelle My Belle:
Cred for Vid Share: Maco939
******
It Got Better, But Then I F*#ked It Up. (As Usual) And if You are Assuming, Presuming, It Was Physical Abuse, Then You Are Deluded. And Have Not ‘Read’ Me—It Was ‘Neglect’ On My Part: Michelle Expected More From Me Than I Was Capable of Giving.
That Was It. I am An Idiot! I Threw Away The Love of A Good Woman and a Kindred Spirit. She Was My Chance to Grasp That Brass Ring! A Military Woman–Whom I Respected! A True Patriot! And A Bona-Fide Sailor! And Like A Fool, I Just Let Her Walk Away.
I Know This Photo Below Is A Brit She-Sailor,
But I Love Her Face
And
She Is ALMOST As Beautiful
As
“My Michelle”
Michelle, ma belle
These are words that go together well
My Michelle
Michelle, ma belle
Sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble
Tres bien ensemble
I love you, I love you, I love you
That’s all I want to say
Until I find a way
I will say the only words I know that you’ll understand
Author’s Note:
This Was Yet Another Relationship That I Managed to Mangle & Fuck Up.
&
Let Her Slip Away
Yes! I Have Regrets!
In The Recruit Training Command at That time There Was A Volunteer Program We Could “Volunteer” For. It Was Called “Saturday Scholars” One Could Get Out of Saturday Duty if one Signed Up.
Michelle and I Signed Up.
The ‘Program’ Was to go to The Inner-City Ghettos of Chicago and Tutor Poor Black Kids. Michelle and I Were actually Very Sincere About This ‘Work’ and We Bonded Every Saturday as we rode the Bus To Chicago.
We Wanted to do Good Work–Serve The Community–Honorably Represent Our Navy.
Which We Both Loved Equally
I loved her very much–Even More Than The Navy
We Were Cut From The Same Cloth, I Thought, but as I said,
I Eventually Managed to Fuck That Up Somehow
I am very Good In This Regard
Call me An ‘Overachiever’ If You Must
South Park: In the Ghetto:
*******
Elvis Presley – In the Ghetto
*********
Dateline: Late 1985
Time: 0800 hrs.
Geographical Location: Great Mistakes Naval Training Center—Just south of Chicago.
Venue: A Navy Auditorium
Suspect: One Ricky-Recruit, AKA
“Marcom-The Moron”
*Slips now into first-person narrative*
I had arrived just a little later than was prudent.
Hence, no seats in the back of the venue.
Searched about. Scanning…
Only open seats were in the front row.
****
I took myself up-front, found a seat next to a serious-looking blond she-sailor, decked out in freshly pressed dress blues. AJ-Squared-Away, she was.
Old Military / Sailor Saw: “Never sit up front and never volunteer for nothin.“
I had already broken the first rule. I was about to Break The Second…
****
I was in dungarees—not pressed. Certainly not ‘AJ-Squared away’… slightly hung-over, if I am aiming at honest narrative here.
‘Under-Dressed’ does not even come close.
I had plopped down to her starboard.
Risked a look at her.
(I had already lost myself in her eyes)
She sensed my gaze, looked me dead in my eye and said,
“What are you staring at Sailor? Hi. My name is Michelle. What’s yours?” She said as she extended her hand.
I shook her hand and was surprised to experience a very firm grip/handshake.
A Naval Officer took to the old, very old wooden podium and began his spiel, trying to sell us on ‘Saturday Scolars.’ and drag out some volunteers.
Michelle went Eyes-Front: Intensely paying serious Military Attention.
I did not.
I kept gazing at her…
To the point of being too obvious.
Oh! And BTW, it did not escape me that she was a 3rd Class Petty Officer.
And an ‘ET–Electronics Techincian’
An E-4
She seriously ‘out-ranked’ me–in Brains and Beauty
And, obvious to me:
Out-Classed me.
In the Nav, we called them ‘IPO’s
“Instant Petty Officer”
If you Graduate from the ‘Right Navy School,’ you are auto-magically promoted.
I was, my own self, enrolled in such a school, but the successful end game—of MY Graduation—was tenuous at best.
Not my intent to bash Y’all over the head with a not-so-subtle…
But this do serve my narrative.
Serves it well…
Oh Well….
Credit: Ethereal Music
To be continued…
Paulette Carlson —
“Who’s Lonely Now”
All the Reasons Why
It’s The End of My World as I Knew It!
Idiot WARNING!
Just A ‘Warm-Up’
Scroll Down for the
Meat-of-the-Matter
*****
“RIP Brian Stelter”
Must Watch or You’ll Miss
The Entire Point of
This Whole Pointless Exercise
Meat-of-the-Matter:
Credit: Mark Dice
Just for Ref,
A Much Much Better Brian:
