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’



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.



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’:


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.


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.




Hook ‘em Horns



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.



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

Read it here

Bye now…

Jackson Browne Was / Is a Misogynist Asshole! Running on Empty? Guess What Schmuck? We All Are! I Kinda Sorta Forgave You. Not Really, Because You’re an Asshole!

You’re An Asshole–Trust Me;

I Recognize The Breed.

Me Being Same.

I Do Not Tolerate Abuse of Women–Well-Documented By Me In These Pages. But Also Well-Documented By Me:

I Appreciate The Art,

Even If The ‘Artist’ Is An Asshole.

I Cannot Properly Edit This Bitch

But Jackson Browne is Asshole In-Carnate!


But I liked him anyway

Or/And His music.

I really did like his music.

(I could not help it)

Cred for Vid Share: Megan Smith


Pretending To Be a Real Man:

Fuck U Jacs–Off – Browne

You Fake-A-Zoid Worthless Mother-Fucker!

I Despise This Ass-Hole, But I Love His Music! Jackson Browne Was / Is A Misogynist. And An Idiot! But I Kinda, Sorta, Forgave Him That. Not Really! Do NOT Even Ask Me How Nor Why. Never, Ever Ask Me Questions!

(Not really—He is An Asshole–I Do Not Tolerate Abuse of Women–Well-Documented By Me In These Pages)

But Also Documented By Me:

I Appreciate The Art,

Even If The ‘Artist’ Is An Asshole.


But I liked him anyway

Or/And His music.

I really did like his music.

(I could not help it)

Run Away Idiot

Cred for Vid Share: Megan Smith

The Pretender!

Pretending To Be a Real Man:

Fuck U Jacs–Off – Browne

You Fake-A-Zoid Worthless Mother-Fucker!

Someone Anyone! Please Shoot Me. Still Fukkin’ Around W/This One Added A Lot of Bullshit—Delete The Other One! Just Like The Other One–

“Richard’s Lame-Ass Jeans Store, Chapter Five: “I Have Done The Deed! Sleep No More!” Milady Macbeth” (Fuk Fuk Fuk Fuk FUCK You WordPress! You FUCKED UP MY POST!!!!) I’m Gonna Go Full Kyle Rittenhouse On Your Dumb Ass!!!

“Runnin’ All Around My Brain”

Cred for Share: Focus Fotoart

Roll Another One

Just Like The Other One

Vid Cred: John

Artist Cred: The Fraternity Of Man


“Sleazy Rider”

Vid share Cred: Krzysztof Zajkowski


Karen Black

Oh My Gawd!


Oh Why?

Cannot I Have A Woman

In My



Who Looks



Jackson Browne – Running on Empty

A Video Montage of Joel Bernstein photos from the 1977 Jackson Browne Running On Empty Tour. Video Montage created by Andrew Thomas. A new version of ‘Running On Empty,’ with newly remastered sound and a faithful reproduction of the original artwork is now available on CD, 180-gram vinyl, and digitally! You can order your copy here:

Cred for Share: Sarah Love


WP Has Fucked Up My Edit

I swear to God!

I am gonna go Postal

On Them!

I swear, as God as My Witness

I am Gonna Go’Postal’On Them


I NEED This WOMAN In My Life!

I had a “Karen”

Once In My life

I Had a ‘Karen’

She Looked Nothing Remotely Resembling This


Karen Black:

Lady Macbeth


Cred for Vid: CorkShakespeare

I Have But Murdered Sleep

Sleep No More!

Cred For Vid Share: Emad Ozery


I arrived back home in Honey Grove.

Entered thru the side door, as always.

Madelyn and Daddy were sitting at the little round Kitchenette  table watching Jeopardy or something.

I scurried past and hit the stairs.

Madelyn was hard on my heels.

We got to the third floor of Marcom Manor and I ran into my room.

Madelyn right behind.

“Did you do it?” she asked breathlessly.

I did not answer.

I turned on my little bullshit radio and dialed in the local Bonham radio station.

“Just wait” I said to her.

We waited.

After about four minutes, the announcer announced:

“Richard’s  Jeans downtown was completely destroyed by fire this afternoon.”

Maddy  threw her arms around me.

Almost Choking me.

“I love you Brother!”

“I know. Now you owe me., Milady Macbeth


“Shut the fuck up. You know who / what you are.”

She kissed me again.

This time in Earnest


Ohio Players – Fire

To Be Continued




Action Jackson: Jackson Browne Was / Is a Misogynist. I Kinda / Sorta Forgave Him That–No! Not Really! Never Will I Ever Forgive Him For That. Such An Asshole!

I have only slapped a woman once in my Life-Time

(My Last Wife)

And I Still Have Not Forgiven Me for That.

I Never Will

And I Must Carry The Shame & Remorse–


And For Three Days After I’m Dead

I Hate Violence Perpetrated On Women.

Do It Within My Sight.

I’ll Fuk You Up–


Trust Me:

I Am Quite Capable of Capably Capable Of Fukking You Up.

Do Not Test Me


Fuk You Jackson Browne.

You Be “Running On Empty”

But I Do Love The Music You Made—

I Sincerely Do.

I Can Grudgingly Admit That.

Jackson Browne – The Pretender, NY, June 9, 1996:

Joni & Jack-Ass Browne:


(Not really Like Him—He is An Asshole, As Am I.

I Do Not Tolerate Abuse of Women–Well-Documented By Me In These Pages) But Also Documented By Me: I Appreciate The Art, Even If The ‘Artist’ Is An Asshole.


But I liked him anyway

Or/And His music.

I really did like his music.

(I could not help it)

Cred for Vid Share: Megan Smith


Pretending To Be a Real Man:

Fuck U Jacs–Off – Browne

You Fake-A-Zoid Worthless Mother-Fucker!



So now Jackson Browne’s lawyers are suing my lawyers.

Browne’s peeps claim I slandered him (calling him a ‘Miss-all of Y’all Oh-Gist’)

Gonna sue me?

Guess what? 

Ya can’t get blood out of a turnip and you can’t pick a lock with a wet hering. Herring? Hearing? Screw it. Y’all know what I meant.



I cannot even spell ‘misogynist’.

Is the man nuts?

“As soon as I stop laughing, have your people call my people: we’ll do lunch. Then you may serve the papers.”

I weep for my country.
I really do.

I’m moving back to Managua.

(I could go unnoticed in such a place)