I am Going To Jail–Who Cares? Who Amongst You Cares? Or Even Gives-A-Shit? I Know, For A Paralyzed Fact, I Would NOT… Care

Unless Your Name Was ‘Peanut’–

Then I would Care–

Bailed Him Out too Many Times..

I Spent Three Days In A Meskin Jail & Four Years In Iraq…Two Years In Afghanistan. Three Years In Sinai–Y’all Think Jail Frightens Me? Or Anything Frightens Me? Think Again My Friends.

Okay.

There is ONE Thing That Frightens Me:

ME

***

This is a Work of FICTION! Because I Do Not Know if There is a Statute of Limitations on Arson. Not Any Word of this Story is True. It is ALL FICTION.

LMFAO!

That Said, This is Another Madelyn & Lance Tale (Fictional!)

Finally Found My Old Blue Jeans:

Cred for Vid Share: Želimir Lah

Back in the mid – Seventies, Madelyn worked at a joint in Bonham, Texas: ‘Richard’s Jeans’.

She sold jeans and other shit. She loved her part-time job. It was a nice place. I had gone there a few times to see her…

On the 3’rd of July, circa 1974 Madelyn came home almost crying.
I was working on my billiard skills (We had a pool table on the third floor of our ‘apartment’)

Madelyn ran past me, ran into her room and slammed the door.
I took a sip from my Coors beer, then cautiously knocked lightly on her door.

“Go away!” she said.
“Don’t think so,” I said to myself.

I opened the door.

She was sitting on her bed, sobbing.

I sat down next to her.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I have lost my job” she said.

“That asshole Richard fire you? I’ll kill him”
“No! He is closing the store!”

“Oh. Okay. I won’t kill him. At least not today.”
(He paid her shit wages)

To Be Continued….

******

Has occured to me some may not know of my relationship with Madelyn.

Therefore…

This is a Work of FICTION! Because I Do Not Know if There is a Statute of Limitations on Arson. Not Any Word of this Story is True. It is ALL FICTION. That Said, This is Another Madelyn & Lance Tale (Fictional!)

Old Blue Jeans

Cred for Vid Share: Želimir Lah

Back in the mid – Seventies, Madelyn worked at a joint in Bonham, Texas: ‘Richard’s Jeans’.

She sold jeans and other shit. She loved her part-time job. It was a nice place. I had gone there a few times to see her…

On the 3’rd of July, circa 1974 Madelyn came home almost crying.
I was working on my billiard skills (We had a pool table on the third floor of our ‘apartment’)

Madelyn ran past me, ran into her room and slammed the door.
I took a sip from my Coors beer, then cautiously knocked lightly on her door.

“Go away!” she said.
“Don’t think so,” I said to myself.

I opened the door.

She was sitting on her bed, sobbing.

I sat down next to her.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I have lost my job” she said.

“That asshole Richard fire you? I’ll kill him”
“No! He is closing the store!”

“Oh. Okay. I won’t kill him. At least not today.”
(He paid her shit wages)

To Be Continued….

******

Has occured to me some may not know of my relationship with Madelyn.

Therefore…