Running in Soft Sand: SEAL Training Part Three. But Truthfully More Alternate Stuff (I’ll Write Another ‘Proper’ BUD/s Post Soon)

I actually know this meme-guy: he was an Instructor in BUD/s Class 158. I Know. I was there.

 

 

A BUD/s Instructor, i.e., a ‘Demigod’

 

Or…

Alternate Titles:

“Lance’s Ramblings from his 115th Dream Stream”

(Sorry Bob)

“Call me if they die.”

‘Semi Consciousness Streams of Conscientiousness’

 

Raining upon My Hit Parade’

‘Nights in White Satin’ – that one makes no sense. That is why I put it in.

Vid Cred: Redbaron863

Or, last and least perhaps: “I have become my Grandfather, or How I became Andy Rooney in One Thousand Words or Less, an essay.”

Gentle Readers, it has not escaped my undying attention that I tend to lean heavily toward the overly-dramatic. The ‘trauma drama’ effect even. Call it a ‘crutch’ if you will.

Yep. Call it that.

This I do know. Therefore, I have (Through my magical powers derived from watching old re-runs of ‘Dragnet’—“Just the facts Ma’am. Just the facts.”—decided to ‘come on back down to Earth, Son’.

–Boz Scaggs: Lowdown)

My (solely appreciated) goal here is to present just ‘them’—just them facts.

I hope I am successful. For y’all’s sake.

When last we left our hero, he was leading his class to their first BUD/s workout. Well, you cannot really call it such: more like a medieval (‘I’m gonna get medieval on your ass’) torture session.

Whatever

 

Even at zero five (‘Zero Dark Thirty?), The Grinder was a hot, miserable place to be, especially NOT designed for yoga or even step-up aerobics, and / or certainly not Pilates. (Gay Pirates?) No. ‘Twas Wasn’t. There is a reason they (Navy) call it ‘The Grinder.” You go ahead and figure out the obvious.

But this day I do not wanna write about Those Lazy Crazy Hazy Days of Summer…

I want to write about this:

I think. I think I am. Therefore I am… I think.

–Moody Blues, With apologies to René Descartes

***

Now Y’all, much of that I wrote late last night. (Under Some Influence)

Didn’t publish. (Thank Baby Hey Zeus). But I woke up this morning

(Praise be to Allah—Ah Ha!) And you, yes you! (My Human Friends) were on my mind:

To MORE BAD News Stories. I shall list them below so that you may share in ‘The Misery’ That is OUR ‘New World’ (You may thank me later. Send cards and letters…)

  1. The Middle East is still throwing gasoline upon their (and our) raging fire

  2. There will probably never be closure nor justice for Michael Brown or his family

  3. Ebola is raging strong (But only in Africa: So, who cares, right? The WHO, that’s who)

  4. ISIS is our new (never heard of till yesterday) National Crisis & Clear and Present Danger (or new best friend for our Military Industrial Complex, off of which I tend to make MY living)—Much hand-wringing and soul searching over that one. NOT! Damn! Put me in Coach! I live for this shit!

  5. My dog has fleas… Fuckin’ fleas. Dogs!

  6. My British GF finds me… well, of late, she don’t (find me)

  7. I dreamt late last night about my favorite dead cat (Her name was Lucia and she was ‘The Cat From Hell’ and I miss her still—probably the only ‘real’ relationship I have ever had with ‘pussy.’)

  8. My blood pressure remains off the chart and I think I may have given myself diabetes: Type Duh

  9. I have been remiss in visiting and commenting on the blogs of my good friends

  10. Maybe I will just go and eat worms. Maybe I like to eat worms…

Now, Don’t let it bring you down, but that is how I woke up. (And I was happy to have woken up… for just-one-more-day…stay?)

And hey!

Don't stay here

Photo taken in Iraq (or Afghanistan) I honestly don’t remember…

There really is no point to this post. Let us just call it “Unconscious Stream of Consciousness”.

And I will most likely, delete it (and y’all know, I am quick on the mouse trigger when it comes to deletion: I see it as a form of… birth control. So read fast!)

So There.

Now to the ‘Meat of the Matter’:

KAREN

I want to write about ‘The Age of Innocence’: The Seventies.

Yep. I tend to live in the glory that was Roaming… You may bail out here. Here, in fact here is your parachute. Be certain to locate the RIP Cord before you exit the plane: Just a word to some wise and hey!

Bon Voyage!

***

For those of y’all who still remain, I want to write about Karen Carpenter. Not ‘The’ Karen Carpenter, but the Karen Carpenter that symbolized how I felt about the Seventies. Yeah, that one. Her.

***

I woke up with Karen Carpenter on my mind (and yes: I have posted about her recently, but I wanted to try to explain why now)

I woke up with Karen and sadly not in my bed, but in my mind.

Why?

Because… of the ‘Age of Innocents.’ I call her one. The first casualty of the sickness that guides us: This American Dream of having to be some other person. A person, in the spotlight who is …. Drumroll: PERFECT!

No one is perfect and certainly not me (though I am pretty close). Yet, no one is perfection. We cannot be. There is no God and if you believe that there is, you are about as far removed from ‘Perfection’ as a Human…

I should delete that sentence, as it is not Germane, nor German, to my point. Let me think on it…

Back to The Seventies: The Age of Innocents (I was innocent; were you? Probab’ly not.)…

I am running on empty now/here.

“I don’t know where I’m runnin’ now; I’m just runnin’ on…

The Seventies.

I would like some thoughts on that/those. From you! And then, having received same, I will continue. Maybe.

Your choice.

Shalom

Salaam

Namaste

Hook ‘em Horns

Peace,

–Lancers

And P.S. I am sorry for stealing all the vid clips. I will (I promise) accolade y’all later–more later–but later)

And: to any readers I have left:

I am in some form of cryxis: I will be, as Shakespeare once wrote, “King Richard is himself again.” once be.

Stay tuned…
Or not: Yer choice.

Peach,

Lanced

Oh! And by the way… Jackson Browne was/is an asshole

Read it here

Bye now…

“Insanity” Is Just A Scare Word. It’s Only A State of Lost Mind. Please Read This. If Only To Merely Validate The Current Condition of My Condition.

“Just Dropped In…”

The ‘Current State of the ‘Dude’

And, Actually,

This is a Rare ‘Good’ Photo.

Most Days,

I Look Much Worser

Sad commentary, ain’t it?

My Legs don’t Work. My Thorax Don’t Work.

My Mind Don’t Work

My Liver Has Departed for Destinations Un-Known.

My Muse Came Home Just Long Enuff to tell me to Fuk Off.

My Life is Gonna End Soon.

Sigh-An-Aura

****

“I Saw So Much, I Broke My Mind”

And Yes!

I Have Been ‘Round The Whurl.

Twice.

Seen Some Shit Even I Won’t Write About.

And I have a Propensity to Write Ever’Thang.

But There are Things and There are Things, And out of Respect,

I Shall Not ‘Touch’ Them with Pen,

Virtual, or Otherwise.

***

Nightcore – iNSaNiTY

“Me NO Alamo”

I Wasn’t There.

Of Course I Could Be Wrong…

I May Have Slept Thru It

(As Unlikely As That May Be, It Is, I Suppose, Within The Realm Of Possibility)

Here is what I eat lately:

Time for a change?

Most likely

****

“Dreams Unwind; Love’s a State of Mind.”

(Thanks Stevie)

Stevie Girl, I Shall Rally… Just one more Time–Not for You Though,

But For Christine…

***

***

Bonus Added Value:

I Love New York City

Shhhhh!

Don’t tell Any Texans You May Know

It Won’t Be Nothin’ Nice

They’ll Clip My Wings

And Throw me UNDER The Alamo

Mum’s The Word

Okay?

Our Little Secret

Billy Joel – New York State Of Mind 

I Am Nuts—Gone Crazy Mad! ‘Cray-Cray’—Okay? I Have Been Clinically Diagnosed As Insane, And Have Fallen Way Too Hard For Aubrey

Aubrey Plaza is Hilarious and Insane

Street Cred: DHM Entertainment

***

Aubrey Plaza’s best bloopers and improvised moments

Street Cred: Comedy Bites

****

Yes. I am Certifiable Nuts

But For Some Bizarre Reason, They Still Allow Me To Walk Around Un-Supervised. Guess I Am Not A Menace To Society–

How Little They Know

Thank You Lauren for Helping Me To Accentuate My Point

Lance IS “Crazy”

Believe You Me

Here is Positive, Well-Documented Proof:

‘Lose Your Imagination–Lose Your Mind.

Lost in Time

I Know.

I lost mine

Cred: Jackie Venson

Native Texan–Austin

***

Bat-Shit Crazy Lance

Not Too Photogenic These Days

“Gee Wally, whatever does this mean?

I Can’t be a narcissist no more?

I used to be handsome.

Key Phrase: ‘Used-to-Be’

Could have any girl my heart desired”

“Yes it does Son. Alas, No More, Elsi-Snore. Now shut up and go make me a sandwich. And fetch me a beer while you’re at it”

“Well shit!. What do I do now?”

“Punt & pray for a good out-come. Your ship has long-since sailed If I were you, I’d aim for the ‘coffin-corner’ From now on. Perhaps you’ll get lucky one-last-time”

“Asshole is Time”

***

But I Have Finally Discovered Someone Even More Cray-Cray Crazy- Nuts Than Me.

This Makes Me Happy–Seems I Am Not All Alone In This World After- All–Thank God!

I’d like to take a leak… If that is within the realm of possibility—Just askin’ for a Friend.

Yes! This Post Is All Fukked-Up

Because I Am Stupid & Caint Edit For Shit

Oh-My –

Gawd!

I LOVE This Young Broad!

Aubrey Plaza!

I adore her!

All In!

With Both Feets!

I love her.
She is insane (In That Good Way)
*****

Funny How it has taken me so long to swerve into her…
But I am here now. Wholly on-Board with her quirkiness and her cray-cray
‘Better late Than Never’ I suppose.


“Lucky for you Aubrey that I am an old Fuk, Otherwise, I would be stalking you.”
With a Heart-felt and Relentless Passion

Uniquely Random Memories from the Middle East Continued

“We made love in that birdhouse after sundown. And with the door open. And why not? We were young. (And we had all that ‘Diplomatic Immunity’ bullshit to boot)”

Thus ended my last ‘serious’ transmission regarding my recently orphaned series, bits of which may be found here  here  here  here…

WordPress is not Facebook and I would do well to remember this, yet if memory serves, the above is indeed how I did in fact, end my last sober transmission regarding this never-ending (Insha’Allah) story I still call without shame or sham, My Life.

Guess what Friends.  I am gonna end it now. Hang onto yer butts.

All true, but I have a tendency to grow bored with my own writing and this does not bode well, well…

I have just recently been returned from my Sabbatical, (kicking and screaming) which was spent in some dark happy place looking for answers.

Finding none, save one, I have returned to these pages more or less now unobstructed and with fresh thoughts unobscured.

“Whatever does he mean, “Unobstructed”? “Hey Y’all! Come look he’ah! Lance done lost his mind!” (a-gin)

Means, Dear Readers that I am just gonna tell “THE TRUTH” from now on. Not that I have not ‘til now been telling same but, now I am gonna tell the Whole Truth, because by omission, I have been lying.

No Sugar, no mas.

This I gleaned from my Sabbatical. “So thanks Sabra. And thanks for the lobotomy, and gee! That shock therapy was da bomb!”

Stay tuned…

Oh! And to tie up that last loose end:

Janet and I spent a wonderful day or two at Sharm, then went back to SFM and carried on. Things kinda went to shit after that… for a spell.

But then we got married and it was all copacetic–For about two hours.

Yes it was on our honeymoon

… and we got into an argument and ended up after the ceremony un-ceremoniously sailing our newly purchased and vowed-upon wedding rings off the balcony of the Sheraton Hotel, (tenth floor) gleefully watching them bounce on the sand in front of the Mediterranean Sea,

To wait there for some intrepid happy beach comber to later discover and claim ‘pirate treasure’ no doubt from Sodom and Gomorrah… (Yes, American tourists are stupid)

After we had ‘dissolved’ our new marriage in that ancient simple way,  we went back to drinking and fucking, and for some I suppose that is what one could call a decent marriage, at least in the early stages.

And honestly, I think that is all way too much information about my time spent with her and Moses in Sinai and in the ‘Rest-of-the-Holy-Land.’

But perhaps not.

(See? I am sharing “deep thoughts” here) with you thanks to my newly ended Sabbatical. Now don’t you feel ‘very unique’? (Ed. Note: I HATE that! There are no degrees of ‘unique’. You can look it up)

If ya wanna…

 Addendum:

I really don’t want to write about Janet but… damn it! She is such a wonderful, truly true, truly colorful, truly unique, one-hundred-and-one pounds of fun character, especially after we arrived in Nacogdoches Texas and began our ‘unique’ married life.

We are all, all of us, ‘very unique individuals’.

Ain’t we?

Or aren’t we all just deluding our own unique selves?

Probably will be continued when They let me out again for ‘Social Time’

mscientist 

And Finally I leave you with a good Sunday Morning Song. We used to sing this as we ran in formation to chow when I was in BUD/s Class 158. Can you imagine? Probably not.

Video Credit: 

 tnDianna

Now I sing this every morning… in the shower… with the hot water… so no one will ever hear…

Vid credit? I suppose Sheryl…

And the final finally, I leave Y’all with the most perfect’est Sunday Morning Song:

(Yeah! Sheryl is a sxy Goddess. Ain’t she?!)

Video Credit: Public Domain (I hope)

Did I ACTUALLY WRITE THIS SHITE?! Someone, Anyone! Please Put Me Away Hahaha! ‘Insanity’ is Such A Lonely Word–As is “Honesty”

Try to find just one good honest man these days.

You’ll Go Insane With the ‘Looking’

***

This One, This Is

‘Lance-A-Lot’ Flew Over The Coo-Coo’s Nest.

Please Enjoy Or At Least,

Try Not To Cry

(I, personally, can never make it to the end of the movie because

I know how it sadly ends.

And, of course I had read the book

(Y’all Just Know I Have)

Far Too many times

Street Cred: Thug Notes

***

They’re Coming To Take Me Away. HAHA!

Weird-Press Cannot Keep Up With The Pace of My Mind.

I’m Shocked!

***

Oh! And by-the-way,

I’d Prefer A Rubber-Room With A View–

Too Much to Ask?

Never mind!

And Yes! I have been to Italy

Thrice!

***

I Desired This At-The-Top

But Guess What?

FU WordAPress!

Room/With/A/View

Oh! Scr’w It! I Tried!

I got so stupid drunk on stupid drunk this morning,

I forgot my name.

Had to refer to my driver’s licence–

Just to try to out to Figger Out Who I Was

Please Take Me Away!

I’ll Pay!

They’re Coming–I Can Smell Their Apprehension.

Going into Battle and all that jazz.

Just tryin’ to remember who the fuk I was supposed to fukken be.

Went to the hospital,

They Reminded Me Of who I was supposed to be not.

Then deep depression struck me…

Over that sudden realization

So I tried to Rember

That Day in Septemer

When I Was born

Into this Gog-For-Saken World

I said,

“I don’t wanna be that guy”

They said

“Sorry Asshole: this is who you be”…

They had proof

see below

C’est Moi!

Drunken Sailer – Irish Rovers

I just wanna go home

So Leave me the fu*k alone!

Hospitals!

I Fukken Hate ’em!

nOT THE pEEPS. Just The Concept