Donald Trump (Ahem)

The Greatest Reality Show On Earth

I just might vote TRUMP.

Why not?

(And what’s wrong with Big Hair anyhow?! Even I, your humble servant, used to have Big Hair–Then I learned to read.)

I mean, honestly, The Prez really don’t have power anymore, c’mon People!

Sampson hair notwithstanding. Don’t believe me? Ask Obama. Or…

Take a look at the Nineteen-Nineties. Clinton, try as he might, had no way to stifle the dot.com prosperity, precarious precipice that it was. (Not that he would have wanted to, but…hey! Outta his control)

Wally-World, et al, took that bull (my pun) by the horns and killed the messenger. (Oh! And the simple fact that the 1920’s had no intrinsic value, historically squeaking, that is.) And the other simple fact that all good deeds go punish’d. And the other simple fact that America, MY America always… well, never mind.

‘Nother case in point: LBJ.

He dreamed of the ‘Great Society’ almost made it, save for that little problem in Southeast Asia. (He coulda been a contender, instead of a bum)

(Brando Warning Here!)

Nuff said: We have now come to the era of “Not-So-Great-Presidents.”

They mean nothing, vis-à-vis, The World Order.

They have been reduced to fodder.

Fodder for CNN, Fox, SNL, and The ‘Honey Grove Senile Citizen’ (my hometown rag)

So…

Why not Trump? I mean, with no mean meaning, why not? He will entertain. He will give CNN, Fox, et al, something to pontificate over (“Never end a sentence with a preposition Lance”—sorry—my bad)

I love The Donald: he has made an uninteresting (for news junkies) year…

Funny.

And I do love funny.

Merry Christmas and see you at the voting booth (I will be that embarrassing uncle in the back with a scotch in his hand and a Marlboro in his lips—pontificating about ‘LBJ’, The Great Society, and wearing the Nixon-Now-More-Than-Ever…T-Shirt.

And saying, ad nausea: “I told you so…”

Shamelessly, I just finished re-reading “Grapes of Wrath” or… in other words: I am with Bernie Sanders on this Deal Folks.

And never forget this:

Or this, regarding ‘Third-Party-Politics” (for those of you astute in The American Political Prophesy):

And, Yes, Virginia: Trump is a “Ring-Tail-Tooter.”

Me no Alamo.

-Lancer

 

The Greatest Story Ever Sold: A Repost

This one even pissed me off!

(Most likely offensive to ‘People of Faith’–read at your own annoyance) 

****

The Greatest Story Ever Told (If told at Woodstock)

(And seriously Y’all, y’all need to watch the video First)

But before we go there enter:

This Post Will PISS some people Off (IF I am doing my job)

However I do NOT want to Piss Anyone Off (Not my job)

Ambiguous? Yeah!

So, therefore, and furthermore, and forevermore: I put below the ‘continue reading’ button.

And don’t shoot me: I just play piano here… on Tuesdays… and for milk money… for the kids.

Click at your own risk.

Cheers, Peace, Blessings, Love and Happiness & Joy (and I do mean all of that shit. Sincerely. Hey by the way, Anyone seen Joy? She was just here a minute ago…)

Cast of Characters:

Mary, Mother Mary, Virgin Mary, Mother of All Inventions.

Woodstock_Mary

 

Joseph, Joe, Just Plain Joe, Cuckold, Erstwhile Surrogate Father of Jesus.

Woodstock_Joeseph

Ya gotta love Joe. Ya just gotta.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baby Jesus, aka Baby Hey Zeus, aka, Christmas… Pre-sents

Woodstock_Baby_Jesus

Not even gonna comment on this one, but, be my guest.

Woodstock_Saint_Peter

Saint Peter

 

 

 

Woodstock_Young_Jesus_Struggling_Musician

Jesus Playing with the Mothers of Immaculate Conception, circa 0014 AD

 

 

 

 

 

Jesus grew up; tried to make a living, Playing Gigs.

But then…

Father told him to hang a right at Albequerky: Go to Max Yasgur’s farm in Bethel; see the people they will love your act. (He said)

Jesus_Arrives_1

You Really Didn’t Believe That “Rode Into Town on an Ass” bit did you?

“Would Jesus wear a Rolex on his TV show? Fuck Yeah!”

No! Seriously,”

“Check it out”

Jesus_Arrives_2

“I’m There Dude!”

falwell

Brother Failwell

Then Dad said, “Go Preach Your Ass Off!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Woodstock_Sermon_On_The_Mount
Sermon on The Mount 
(Chip off The Old Block)

 

 

 

 

 

 

And Jesus Said, “We’re there Dude! Just look at ‘em!”

 

Woodstock_Flock

Case Rested

 

Woodstock_Decided

Yay! Jesus!

 

 

 

 

 

 

“They’re eatin’ this shit up!
Hey! Judas! Come check this out!

Woodstock_Judas

Judas: Enema needing to Happen. “Nothing to see here; move along…”

 

Mary Mag! You too! (C’mere Baby!)”

“Sorry Dude. Busy. Get back to me, Yeah? Laters…BFF!”

“But Mary!? You carry… My Mom’s name! And now you tarry? Don’t make no sense!”

Woodstock_Mary_Mag2
“Ah shit!
Here come those Romanians Again! Don’t these people ever give up? Gotta go!”

Woodstock_The_Romans

I love the smell of burnt Jesus in the morning

“As God as My Wit-less-ness, I shall never be hungry again! (As long as I have these radishes)”

Last Supper

Last Toke, I mean Last Munchies

 

Woodstock_Last_Supper

Joe! Go Pick some Radishes. Jesus is hungry. And stop smokin’ that shit!

I did not put in The Crucifixion/Ressurection, (mainly because I don’t believe that shit and also because I could not find an example in the show) and also, mainly because at

Woodstock… drum roll please:

nobody had to die to save me.

It’s OK Jesus: I’m doin’ fine, but Thank You for askin’.

And Thank YOU to anyone who has travell’d this far with me.

Cheers,
Lance

P.S. “And don’t touch my bags if you please…mister customs man.

 

“Put Your Money On The Table: Redux” 1776!

This Post is Dedicated to my Third Wife (Don’t worry: she knows who she is)

And to my English Girlfriend (she knows who she is too). When asked by some American, “Do you celebrate the ‘Fourth of July’ in England? She always responds with a ‘washing of hands’ bit. Yep! Good Riddance! Hahahah! Gotta love them English!

I have spent the better part of the last three days watching documentaries about the birth of my nation.

(No. Not D.W. Griffith)

Documentaries about Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, George Washington, et al.

Present Day:

I served my county.

I love my Country. I am a patriot. I rant. I rail. I even disparage.

But, If you mark my country for ill, Or Speak Ill, I will…

Fight you.

‘Till no breath resides in my breast.

And… that is a fact, Jack.

So…

The rest is just hyperbole,

(and good video)

Have Fun:

us flag

 

“I wonder who put those ideas in your head.”

America

–Boz

Do Re Mi

Love my readers.

Surely

Certainly

Absolutely

But this post will throw Y’all into a ‘Tale’ Spin. And may just bring your loyalty into question… such as it may be. Didn’t ask for it, but do appreciate it–in whatever manifest.

Do Re Mi

Why? 

Because I am a Socialist

Dust bowl

Or Why Not?

Dunno…

Perhaps ’cause you don’t tread between the lines’.

(And for those of you who, who do, I do sincerely apologize) 

“Peace and Happiness”

Sincerely,

–Lance

Yeah! I am embracing….that!

***

This post made absolutely no SENSE!

(If you love me; you will humor me!)

Hahahahah!

P.S. I Served My Country

 

This is Directed Toward All My Minority Friends Out There in Radio Land

And No: I am not talking ‘race’ here.

Hell! I don’t even own a Ferrari.

I am talking booze. Talking to the Juicers out there.

Here is my query:

Do you often (more often than not) catch yourself scratching notes?

Dear God

I mean, you have a great idea for a post, but are too inebriated to write it, and too afraid to sleep on it, lest you forget it: Lose it?

So… ya just ‘make a note’.

No matter that you won’t be able to read the note the next day sober, as it only makes sense when you are drunk–now therein lies that ‘Catch-22’, but at least you made the effort.

Right?

Right?

Talk to me Peeps!

(I really do not wanna be alone with this one.)

Cheers,

Lance

P.S.

Yes, I am a Socialist, Humanist, and All-Around Nice-Guy. i.e.,

I won’t let my dog shit on your driveway.

And Hey!

Thanks for stopping by.

We do hope you have enjoyed your time here.

tex flag

 

The Greatest Story Ever Sold

The Greatest Story Ever Told (If told at Woodstock)

(And seriously Y’all, y’all need to watch the video First)

But before we go there enter:

This Post Will PISS some people Off (IF I am doing my job)

However I do NOT want to Piss Anyone Off (Not my job)

Ambiguous? Yeah!

So, therefore, and furthermore, and forevermore: I put below the ‘continue reading’ button.

And don’t shoot me: I just play piano here… on Tuesdays… and for milk money… for the kids.

Click at your own risk.

Cheers, Peace, Blessings, Love and Happiness & Joy (and I do mean all of that shit. Sincerely. Hey by the way, Anyone seen Joy? She was just here a minute ago…)

Continue reading

It is (Still) Morning (Mourning?) in America!

“Oh shit!” ‘Sorry Ronnie Toopac… Nancy’Melania!

It is ‘SundayTuesday  Wednesday in Amerika!

“Let us watch ‘The Golf’ read my tweets!”

agusta

“Huge vivla la diff’ eh’?”

“Oh Me ah me! What ever do you mean?” (Said Nancy Melania)

“Ah shit Nancy! Melania! I mean it is morning in Amerka! Didn’t I say that?!”

“No, you are a Commie if you did!”

Nancy! Melania! I am soooo Sorry! I lost my place! Here was I, back in the Eighties! Working for law and land! Money, lust, and US!

I even enlisted! I served my Country! What did I get? Bupkis!” What did I get? Rich!

“Butt… We (Ronnie and I—don’t he look cute—riding that horsey? Honey?—Now…what were you saying? You middle class? Oh Yeah! Something  about entitlements?”)

“Uh! Ya know what? Nancy? Mel? Never mind. We got ours. And ya know what? We got that Commie Bastard!—That Gorbo-chov!  That Puttie… God Bless America!”

“But… where is the money?”

“for America?”

For us?

Where is our prosperity?

I thought we won the war?

Where? Where are the fruits?

They just evaporated.

Didn’t they?

“I made enuff money to buy Miami, but I pissed it away so fast…”

–Jimmy Buffett

“Just say no,” “Make US Great”  was all she said, as she walked away.

(The conversation is ambiguous, waxes and wanes, for a reason: we are all to blame)

“You let ’em come home…” America.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

We all should be allowed to come home. After all: it is the only place that stays open–all night.

The US of US is the only place that stays open all night. For All. We sort em out, once they (manage) to get here.

The US of US is the only place that stays open all night. For All. We sort em out, once they (manage) to get here.

For All.

Daily Lenny: Zen an’ Zig an’ Zag and… Bingo in the Catholic Church

Below Your Daily Lenny (Early for a change):

images

More Mister Bruce down yonder Y’all

Pleasure

https://texantales.com/category/lenny-bruce/

Thank you (all Y’all) for visiting my humble site.

“Don’t touch my bags if you please, Mister Customs Man.”

-Lance

Let us never forget:

Smiling, said he was the Lone Ranger…comin’ into Los Angeleese…

This Land is still ours; let’s hold on to it:

“Now yer gettin’ ‘preachy’ Lance”

“Yeah, I know. It’s Lenny’s fault. First Amendment and all that jazz…”

I love my country.