When I was working in Basra, my gig allowed two weeks R&R every two months or so. Sounds like a deal, eh? Well, yes it was. Be aware however, we worked seven days a week, ten hours a day. NO days off. So do the math; we earned it. And of course we were getting shelled and rocketed and mortared regularly.
Anyhow, I had a stateside girlfriend back then. Actually more friend than girl. Rather platonic relationship, but we were ‘Buds’ and I loved her dearly. (Still do) And we went way back.
It was agreed by us both, that once I went to Iraq, we would spend our (my) R&R’s together. I flew her to Barcelona, Athens, Italy, and finally London. (She made all the arrangements. All I had to do was show up) Too easy for me.
Mid 2006 we met in London. I was ‘cacked out’ (Lenny Bruce vernacular). Worn out. Plumb tuckered. Tired. Damn tired. Spent.
She was, of course not. Now mind you, this woman had been all over Europe already. London, Paris, Madrid, Rome, Berlin, Athens… well, she was rich. Catch my drift? I had seen quite a lot of Europe my own damn self. Did not hold much magic for me.
All I really wanted was some ‘down time.’
Bless her heart (and this speaks volumes of our great friendship), she let me do what I wanted; which basically meant I could sit in the flat she had arranged for us in downtown London and drink Beefeater while watching movies and smoking Marlboro’s and ranting at the current state of affairs in Iraq.
After a few days, she did manage to get me out of the flat for a walk-about. We went to Buckingham Palace (one day shot there)
We went to the British Museum; saw the Rosetta stone. Another day gone.
“Lance that’s the Rosetta Stone.”
“Yep, that’s cool. What’s it say?”
“It says, ‘Shut up Lance’”
Had some fish ‘n’ chips (I preferred Long John Silvers, but that is just what an asshole I am)
Rode the Tube. (I prefer Le Metro in Paris, but what the hell)
And various other exhausting exhilarating excursions.
“About three days before we were to part: me back to The Sandbox; she back to Texas, she asked me, “Lance, isn’t there any place in London you would like to see?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is. I wanna go down to Marble Arch Station.”
“Whaaat?” she said.
“Yeah. Marble Arch Station.”
“That is a Tube Station.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Why on Earth…”
“Because it belongs to Gary P. Nunn and Jerry Jeff Walker. And Texas.”
Some Days, I Wish I Could Die and Be Re-incarnated as an Ostrich–
With My Head Stuck ‘Safely’
In the Sand
There is no God Gonna
That Ignorance Bliss
But has been Sanitized for your Protection–
I Harbor A Serious Weed
Up My Ass
You Guessed It:
Street Cred For Vid: Gus Johnson
Fuk U FB!
I Cancelled My Subscription.
Yer Next On My ‘Hit Parade‘
(Don’t Fret! I Love You Facebook!–Not!)
FaceBook Recently Got Fukked!
Mark Zuckerberg Says He Is Not a Lizard Person
I Had No Idea–
Guess I Need To Get Out More
Hoisted by Their Own Re-tard!
Enjoy The Sound of Silence!
To an ISP Near You.
We’ve Had Enough of Your Bullshit!
Hush Hush Mark Fuck-You Berg!
Zuckerberg Has Suction-Cupped His FB Tentacles So Deep Into The American Morons — Not Y’all, Of Course– That He Is Becoming Dangerous–This College Drop-Out. I Got Nothing Aghast Drop-Outs–Since I are One. But This Asshole is a Moron.
Not Un-Like Bill Gates–I’ll Get To Him Next.
Ah! The Wonderful Sound of Silence!
Love this guy!
I cannot find the original content creator to credit. Standby. I am still searching.
Love This Guy Too!
Cred: The Church of Fuck You
Hate This Guy!
Anyone see this asshole below, shoot on sight
Wanted for Murdering Sanity
Reward: Fifty Cents
Last Seen: Bar in Dubai
Good Luck and Happy Hunting
Since I am a ‘film snob’ and arrogant, and an Asshole, and full of myself, I am going to hit you over the head with something which should be blatantly obvious about this image below:
I don’t get too hung up on semantics
For Any Enquiring Minds Who Give-A-Shit:
I recently deleted My Face-Fuk Account of 12 Years.
Guess what happened next.
FaceBook sent a buxom Blond to Mi Casa.
Ostensibly to give me a blow-job.
(My Hope always springs eternal.)
But it did not take me long to figger out that all she wanted was for me to undelete my account.
I politely invited her to go fuck herself.
(She left in haste)
In a cloud of dust and flying gravel.
“If I could just get off of that Facebook Freeway without gettin’ killed or caught”
“Down the Road In A Cloud Of Smoke.”
“Landlords/Land-Ladies Always Bore Me”
(I went back to my neglected beer and we had a good time–spending some quality time together)