19 September 2017

A post made at Face mash, sorry face book again soprano rules your virulence and hatreds are after all sacrament and fine…

I now using only the power of my mind, ill mull making myself queen of Faerie land....yes, were here to help you to your throne madam, msus Clinton,...just get in these robes, the stain and lace, and straps that  attach back heere, thats riggght, and we're hereto whisk to off to fairy land where you will reign as queen over the gumdrop kingdom and---Larry!, get the cattle prod, block the door, Bernie sanders says hello ,bitch,... get the tranquilizer darts, ...! shes feral, and don't let her bite you what ever you do, no wonder Steven king lovers her so, without this he’s back to being a poor mans William Gaines...Block the door! She calls her husband killer cause he slays her, not yet, but Bill's calling Bellevue cause yur nuts!

Well that seemed to be the last straw at wonderland, as this  morning awoke at 11, as an infection will not let me go, but again stay up all night drawing some gals wonder woman, as she eggs me on as said being cute on one page, see like Alan’s annotations I packed in Ed Asner, Perry mason and Eve Arden and Ruff from Dennis the menace, she emails  me among some other well wishers, Oh Tony,  she said,  I love that do more like that, oyyyyyyyyyyshhhheeee. Telling my mother this, she said I better do good for this girl as I cant be taking admiration for granted, and better send her something ncie, and just to show what I am dealing with she took a blue box full of wax crayons  of mine and rolled it  into a bucket  uses for her chaw, as she demands I use something upscale and nice.

But things are tough in fairy land, they are, as also not loved was me brining up Ovid ,again as how that bothers the fat girls know that Bill the Roman schoolboy, don’t make me tell you his roman put downs of you again as I say Clarion fatigue has become rigamortis, as in the body politic, and admired and am Fatigued by their evil my own self. I know that Taint putting no goddamn drivers license on BIG BROTHER,COM, fuck that and fuck you, Nepoto, I could care less. As I noted every say anything about that little ninny with that  bag on his head, the unknown comic, something is upsetting to the face booked, so recall that next time hear any of them call themselves  Romans satirists,--you use that word but am not sure you understand it, as do recall not only that but that his virulence Is quite staggering as he flop sweats tap dancing lithely on his own electronic grave, might be tome for even a third act, or at least a third  pair of glasses, as he soft shoes his way off the cliff, remember,  this is the hack with vicious ignitions, to whom we are all Adam Corrola and unloved  and not allowed an audience that he thinks bequeathed to him as his queen Hillary believes the white house was something’s he didn’t have to work for but just get, like the syphilis. So, do remember he sent out minions to death threat and demean pubic ally and decoy an Asian  woman who had the audacity to ask why his Richard liu impression was fine and dandy. Then after hectoring her,  played a  magnanimous  creep, salted with decency of a gc  Murphy gleaned dime sort, a just for men sort of combed in decency,  and called off his dogs, making them all feel like such putzes as I recall, but then there is not politicos of resentment, only those resented as the ratings can prove. And so what the numinous academy of television, as Jackie said in perfect satire, all we’ve been watching are game shows, puppet shows, westerns, cartoon frolics and sufferin soap operas, tonight I’m watching a movie!, had time for a  reunion of 9to5, A FILM BY THE WAY, but you know, and Lilly, you know, who has been a has been and sanctimonious and speaking of enlightenment since I was a boy, as somehow paycheck was  fine from in  being a show in which Goldie and  even Joanne Worley were asked to dance in bathing suits in cages doing the frug, but i do love that show and its Roman vitality so, but youd think that hag been agin it, but then has had to walk off Cavette since I was a kid, as again someone might have noticed how she trashed working girls , telephone operators, cashiers,  even mentally ill bag ladies, all the  world loves a clown, but what does she care…?,  with a face only a Travolta  could love. And tank god the north Viet cong weren’t Arabs, Jane dear or the Jewish in laws would have let you rot in jail like the Medici did to your radical forbearer.

I say face book and its all seeing eye and its reluctance to take down murder vids  can go fuck itself, as again as since bleeding cool, I always am dangerous in getting people to ask questions you think have been made verboten, as id like to know how  wit is Jews can be heroes in both Skokie which really bothered  them, finally after fifteen years of perpetual war they had been made upset, and Trumbo, as again I didn’t make a movie about the Romans that I had to disavow which is wonderful in that how does one disavowed a work of art, and not just say one was Younger or more callow or got better, but disavow unless it was a polemic to begin with. As I have a feeling Steven Colbert will be renouncing the stain that is his act soon enough to stay on television, the only salvation his coils can imagine. So take time to trash a Praetor who has yet to bomb a hospital, if he knows what’s good for him, but didn’t have time to have a moment of in memoriam for Dick Gregory, its  a yo yo yo nigger world, who knew…?, did Pig meat notice…?,  and some others as that I did, as he  oathed to tap dance, but its not something I didn’t see when the writer  off the best man and Ben Hur  died, who was smart enough to not have Chuck Hesston renounce Judea, as was in the remake that fell fat, but then as I said, cgi alas is am anathema  to a Roman circus. As it was ether that post about fairea land, too soon after the black rock black hole that that ninny is dragging the Cyclops towards, or the one done about Bill Clinton in which again there was a left handed compliment as I  am like our bloated vicar in a love of Ovid, see…?, don’t call him a poet of imperialism if you know what’s good for you girls, like how you somehow went along with the  crime bill and welfare reform, so your throats are open to lots. And I made sure as a boy I would never be a house coon like that ninny queen we had ,as I knew even as a  boy in Jesuit pre  law, being admired by Ogletree and Tribe and the recruiters from Georgetown  that Barry’s tail wagged so for,  when they came through, and thus dispraised by the berries of that time who had to work for it, as I knew that ventrally as you did to Jack Valenti SOUTHERN HICKS would demand of me that I bomb some worthless niggers somewhere, and wretched scum, but in doing so, Id have to damage Magnus leptis, and roman Antony as I inferred Bill Clinton, can never ever do that. Again to quote Romans as saw that line again recalled by no less an authority than Neil Simon on Cavett, a tragedy is…well,  something you’ll find out when you run out of jokes, or cash, and again these were never my walls.


01 September 2017


27 AUGUST 2017. 


I thought’d spend August lounging and sitting and awash in the nostalgia of the crucible l was forged in, that of Norman Lear’s. But found too many opportunities and changes to let slide by. now,  new was the making of a magic story , supposedly as against Harry Pouter as not, which a throw away line against its creator womb, kept getting likes as it did when she opened her lower brow, middle is out of the equation here, yap, told me I was on the right track. I did on and off all month as built the priory of the upping witch Wendy, and sent it  earlier to a sampled retail witchy far out website, and was told un so many words, my paragraphs connecting this witch to the rest of my we are the mods, world, more Adam West than Christian Bale world, amazingly was verboten, as they weren’t there to allow me to do as Norman would say advertisements for myself, and the world building I have been told I am a Robert Altman like adherer of , was unnlawd in our droll, dire, dreary world, as that again the Tonyverse and my  Librariea is the least thing that some lesbians Germanic and or  war complied ,want to see remade.

I have an inkling there is ‘too much Johnson’ in America, as called it  in an accepted essay, for the crime families of carpetbaggers want to really deal with, as the ghost of lbj, I am practically a Doris Kerns Goodwin, but less rosé sunglasses, in my Machiavellian admiration for our cinchy Lucifer, whose end as sad as it was meant and end to the assassins creed of American politics, just in time for Fredo Like Brother Teddy to lose on his own, as a lucked out TYBERIUS WHO DIDN'T merit a noble Roman death. I was shocked that a few liens of mention of the bigger Tony land Were worthy of disqualifying, as she, this pagan witch, well Italian, there is no difference, opaquely when sued by born again Jewish trash like Medved, --really hate him as a gal picked up on as she cranked out a petition to get fascists off the democratic allegedly channel, yeah good luck, as he has taken over for Glenngary Glenn Back as my go to American Savonarola. Pagan, used as a uncultivated dismissal by he and other Jews for Jesus, and how my various Jewish allies and mentors have hated them,  wooo weee!, merely means poor in old Latin, as that showed what caused old secretary Paul of Tarsus, as Maureen Dowd called him, not again getting the joke, loved mistily about his beloveds,  like Pricilla and Gaius  was their being kinder than not to the help. But then in Judea’s new and old, always be closing, and it was nice  to see that Arrec Baarrwin start to be asked you here again…?, who I do not dislike, but cmeon, when one has a history as Ma says, leave the rest of us be with the hard sell, went to that mugging well once too often. As they found too in 1973, amid Watergate, when had to have various meatheads and Lee Grants upon a telethon as if the Assembly were but crippled kids and Jerry Lewis dead no less now, when the nightly news or big mouth Cronkite is doing your bidding so fulsomely every night, well, the money for commercials from the heralds and the Jewish indulgence to collect and slice up in bags of wam, well, it starts to go away, but when do men if the people ever learn anything but though what to tip on a bill of a three hundred dollar lunch…? 

I was shocked that was told to get rid of these mentioned of other books I have made or even published, as I  WASNT SURE WHAT SIN THIS WAS, DID THAT MEAN I DON’T as Machiavelli said HAVE the wherewithal seceded to be a good American, after all…what did that mean…? In the land of Stan Lee what is too much anything, and why cant I carte my won universe as a reset from and insult to a land where sanctimonious niggers work for war incorporated and giggle trough the gunshots. Ah, but dearie, this crowd is no Romans senate, and they feared freezes as all old slaveholders do, see Gaius and Priscilla above, and so the idea of assassins in the night, or radicals with knives, frightens the purple sashits, as if I  caught the Tactitus qualities of the  USS JOHN MACKANE running into an alter of Virgil’s,  with men strewn everywhere, and the dead escorted back to an Augustus who  is keeping his own council, till the coda is needed, if I got that, our scared Scarred   duping old man, must have made a gesture to ward the evil eyes away, no matter what he tells the chanters back in the woods. So according to Tactitus remember, Alan Moore dear, who I have come to admire though in reading his annotations for century, which I found a lovely time warping gorgeous romp, as adored Emma Peel, too, as a kid when the Avengers where on late night nights on CBS too, very thing he says of Romans is true, including the dreary Bodica, but wither mentions the vulgarity of the Britons, again, the palimpsests are always failed and smeared, even the druids sing of Hercules. And their barbarian whine and accent drove that Latinist up the volcanic wall. 


I saw another opportunity to take this essay of magic and send it to some other dump, and not the one sent to me by the loveliest gal, but alas, as I was redoing it and rewriting with eye on novelizing it as much  a just assay or a short  story, had a bad  vibe  as feel many these days of sanctimony. As saw in their submission guides, which mean much more, conversely, the lower on the totems you are getting, that certain words and ideas would only be allowed able if done of censure by the Antagonists, as again its not a Virgil Luna measure we are inn, we barely notice the dead soldiers anymore, Barry is perpetually running for something, what we are never sure, so, the gather thing of men at the reefs and the bodies of dead sailors are so much collateral friendly fire  damage, a trifle, a Piffle, nothing when coleuses of jadedness with to striate the world with bombed bodies and  dead flurry that comes when grave robbers get far too big for  their little boy blue britches. I had a bad feeling  then, as already did and remade and edited a first chapter, but with this anti Virgilian feeling, that only certain people felt certain things, unless of coarse, you know, the patron and his gal have  fallen out of  the imperial bathroom again, and another  of Augustus girlfriends had to be ended, you know  because, well, the glass staigel repeal act hadn’t been signed yet, what kept you…? and unbox the whoopee machine, we have another  Incognito to destroy, somehow were all running for office excepted Madame Pillozzi who like old man dago river just keeps bribing alonnnnnnhhhhhggggg…. and  so, you know, well, dears, Situational ethics aren’t ethics at all, an eventually despite the laughter, people target to have to ask ,wait, what mostly do you believe in….?And you cant Bill up and smirk your way through everything,  hence the Oviddian tie, that some cunts will alas  hold against me, my translating it, for middle browed ears. So nerving up, this I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it anymore, but out made the most if it, and did a quick first chapter dealing with the eclipse I had just sort of seen, again, only for the Wag the doglike love of the credit.

[had to repair tis page before sending it out as kept in an aip leather satchel, the yellow of the previous page actually started to seep through...]

With some days to go before their willie nillly deadline, and they all almost always are, I end it in the shattered story, as couldn’t recall if it as 8000 word limit, like the one the gal sent me or 7000 as saw and knew this written in stone guidelines are as bullshit and ephemeral as being a liberal now, all one to cheer the drones attacking. I finished the tale with room, and days to spare around the time of Alfred Hitchcock’s birthday and watched again as l did of his wonderful show, starting half of great Hollywood as it did. Wendy was my slyest  Veronica Lodge, Moonbeam, made the star, which does bother many, but not lesbians though, as again have always been able to appeal to them if not of the wholly drop dead lead pipe snitch, dead solid perfect cold water fat, lead pipe lock, dykes. But, rather of waiting for the 31st, their aside about who the bad people are, such a remnant of the Potter they seemed to dislike, but admire none the less, like you and Bill Clinton, I allowed it up with swears, as homer would say, and of caste made Gingold Rheingold, the hated, hateful, murderous Blond, a ‘Tom Boy’, as irksome a moniker  to some today as it was when Boccacchio was putting it all down on paper. I sent a short apologia for who THIS WAS, AND  WHY as written, about and for, and sent it at 7:20 on a Sunday night, in midsummer, ah but when sweep the dust behind the door, be careful that the gusts of hot arc don’t hurl them back at you, in your face. As within moments saw a response, no way it was made through a my paragraphs, I mean like minutes, showing somehow is always living their lie, and how this did not contain my name rank and serial number , as the other did and wasn’t supposed to, as keeping you off kilter and on edge is how New Judea works, ask Sicilians, or Palestinians, as the case maybe. 

And accrue of 212 words over 6000 as was provided let be below 6000, that meant in anal retentive magic firsts that it was verboten, even though as I sent back I had six days until the predetermined cut off date, but then as it has been since demeaned and distressing and banished by the vineyard of gangsters as Verdi, for an essay about my adoration for herod,  as evil again depends on where you are standing, as he trued with Roman backing, fine to kill ANTHOCIUS BOYS, BUT YOU KNOW, TRIED TO SAVE ISRAEL FROM A CREW OF PRIESTS, WHO EVEN CICERO KNEW ALWAYS EXEMPT THEMSELVES FROM WAR AND TAXES AS THEY DAMNED YOU PAY THEM YOUR TITHE. That was quick, but was starting to settle in for a lovely Sunday night of Oscar and Felix, Maude, and Barney Miller recalling that hated nostalgia, lest we recall when almost one in 5 Americans were not living in abject poverty, as the National Biscuit Company and the Jews who brought you homeland, team up again, to bring shot darkies back to Sunday night television , as even the summers Cowboys games aren’t doing well with Trump already in, and no longer taking his cut of eyeballs. I knew that that wasn’t about 200 extra words, because  that’s much easier ever than admitting here was an Ariosto once, and again the worst thing I  could do was  mention Torquato Tasso and Spencer’s the fairy queen, much too so closely together.


I sat and watched Maude, as do on Sunday evenings  to recall  when CBS meant something, as thought can one imagine a show now  based around a  yenta blowhard cow loudmouth dago Jewry woman, who looks like my mother’s fat sister when I was a boy, her nebbish Hubby as a male Edith  whipping boy, a republican doctor aced with charm and humanity by the fretting Conrad Bain, a bit of a stick in the mud, but decent and human, and his ageing pin up southern belle, Rue McCallahan, still pretty and stupid, the best type, and cute and sweet, and ying to ethnic new York yang Beatrice, the hag, who was to play that role again in the golden girls, for an auditioning young genius named Susan Harris, but of course had to relented play the southern belle made old, as the always needing and grasping, you heard me, Betty White, hanger on slider emeritus, always had to have her way, and wouldn't play Sue Ann again. Mostly I thought catching this show, it was again about something , as opposed to now where we are all in the watch list without a Perry to say anything the wile Hamilton Berger’s who wish to incarcerate us all, who would make a show now with a daughter lure childhood diva dream woman ADRIENNE BARBEAU , saucily  pretty, dark, in that way Rachel Maddow hates, sexy as all get out, in sweaters clung to  giant tits and hip huggers, she so cute, but smart, and whereas her liberal mothers daughter when speaking of abortion as if a brunette georgics jiminy cricket, a cute pin up conscious, a cute novice without  a vocation, it came, you know,  abortion as rite after ultrasound,  the death cult of the  brazen and the ugly unmarried hags, as less of a right than  a  demeaned rarity under the always shuttling differences Clinton, except for him I would guess, where it became the cost of doing business.

Who would make this show now, I thought watching  this gorgeous busty national conscious, Yo Adrianne, with as cute a girl, a maid here at the dishwater pinned, or Barney Miller, the gibing Jewish cop, mixed race as was Bilko’s barracks, Jack Soo older and sadder by still a Cato once for a clean cut razzmatazz wop on the golden age Francisosa, a squad of  Pollock’s, Hispanics, old Jews played by Russians all think are Italian and who made a career out of that vowled name, and of case  growling regent of the ragtime age, Inspector Lugre, who parleyed a one shot into being part of an ensemble  as did Scanlon in still favored new Amsterdam.  I knew that I’d tell this guy off, as got a fast response mostly due mostly using words like faggot and cunt, and  that was just the cover letter, but then, as Billy Preston said once, when we were still young and hadn’t become house fraus all yet, maybe sometimes let the bad guy win every once an a while. I aint one again of these lovable wop dunderhead villains you adore on television. As don’t often anymore, but that’d like  to know when  the Virgilian ethic if no villains went away so readily, when you need a perpetual war that sonny boys have the breed to act like nationalism didn’t play  a  role when your secrete biddies at the Jew York times kept those drums beating  for apacheistic  and not  Roman war ,as the apaches had no Cato to tell them when their love of war ever went over the tubas they were allowed those fearsomeness as there were no Jews or more importantly British there, or here as the care maybe.  Who would make Maude or anything form my hero Normans works now, whose sonnets attitude as much as a Dante and more than any Petrarch,  show will as they always do  be dropped as acceptable as   the money that  they, in laws,  find out that in fact he coined the word dark ages, as I always make sure they do. I love the silence that retires when I get off a good one.

The girl who gave me the  link was also quickly dismissed by one of these or the other, who can keep at straight, who sends me a letter, as did I, she asks, read the Deathly howls by JK WRALING. …? Nigger, puuhhhllzzze…no, the only snippets of these movies I’ve ever seen, as have had my full of gay propaganda since Homer as a kid, was the one where there was a Christmas pageant or something, and a maze made out of trees, something done by some spic who like they do now pretends he came up with something as cause the overfed  white chicks don’t know nor care who Gustavo Dore was. She tells she looked it up, and Harry at the end, echoing my line about only dragons and saints can kill dragons, he uses three ultimate curse words, showing the blackest of the black arts. They are all curse words, I email back, but she tells me, recalling me as  she read the passages, all these curse words, echoing words like empyrean, crucifix, oh what else, and such, are all in the Italian and not the Latin, she says. I could have warned you Hillary there were more nanas and smart brunettes than you had thought, or were told there were. She thinking I was on to again, something. Well, of course  I was, as that’s pretty much all English history in a nutshell, and as one thing comes off another am asked to do two more comics, one more  like Alan Moore than not, especially  his LOEG. As  kept  the original of On the mountains of the moon in some disrepair, but are  but whole, something they hate about my work is when it is whole, as on the day of the eclipse, received some email from some dump calling itself a resistance, again too echoing the boy of power, whose city as Hillary voters at  the edge of the Ionian get socked good, too bad,…well if that Irish  stewed drunken hack can revel in the fact all those long island wops lost their homes as a small price to pay so as that Bratty would be able to be reveal and   see his five perfect growth, well it wouldn’t happen until hated venial Cattiline Trump, dears, showing you understand  economics with the same pad you sue to keep your tallies. And now some Arabs are actually daring to be upset that here winter will be as many as five shows glorifying war as now John Ford ever did, as the gumba Jews try vainly to not lose the Prairie they look down upon so completely, unless in a good Roman, thus, even numbered year. Trump was demeaned far too many  times as a  nationalist, what else can one be, an in laws who demanded his Jewish son in law shut up and get  a Christmas tree, and baptize the half breed brat since gave in and named  him after Gramps Ethan. So, as the same way that Tiberius would flood the circus Maximus, even a doofus like I know it was called later the Flavian amphitheater, as opposed to some, would have false sea battles for the plebes of Rome, as to keep this piratical war going, you’d better pony up for some  bread and circus,a fadeout the kibosh on them sad commercials seen where men  without arms that the stations upon reducing the American centurion into being a dog in a junkyard  left to freeze and beg  for middlebrow mercies. Trump is a nationalist, you see, even Jews who have drunk driving in their records say as much, you too could be president if the Bush imperia wasn’t like Yale, restricted, but did he become president by demanding a wholly unconstitutional amendment to resist, yes they keep using the same words, as I have an inkling Nancy Davis and Alexander the Great had that crime family pegged, the plague of flag burring,...whose broad stripes and bought stars,…?  Ah but shamelessness is our only credo, as in the midst of a flood, poppy emerges from the ICU he uses for exhaustion, to give a rah rah speech to SMU ponies, showing again, the Bush ear is as tin as it ever was.

4. As like Love, Love, Love, as father Gore said, I wasn’t the only one who noticed that the oligarchy was using a tad too many Orwellian asides, as the money dries up and thus Jewish gumba men of the whole cant take their commensurate third off the top.

As some hack wop, as like that ones, who my father warned me of all that time ago in some unwanted, unasked for, email, always be selling and pushing the product, made a point who Dante, called by Gore and Harold Bloom and irreproachable master choice, and whose translation by that poet laureate showed the mistake in  syntax that they  always make, some house company wop made a point in this ledger of resistance, of what and whom were ever really told, cause after all, no one said shit   when that nigger did his travel ban, …this house wop one steppe above house nigger, made a point how Dante was beneath him, and how much he loved Chaucer, who of curse as I said being a creep and it was taken down I guess from their sight, as a Resistance all along was something that you can change a five for dollars a query for, and that’s  the smallness of vendetta politics that was always going to bring the bush familia crashing down. As if anyone think I don’t know what I’m a talking about  with signora Fortuna, a surely worse proposition to the lantern holders than Voltuimort, well, it turns out that yes Julian, your knee did hit the ground, and how, once too often and so brutes, I hate about the love of the cult of Bellacheart that human gladiatorial game , against three thousand years of Roman farce had been parodied to a chess game, as chess apices don’t bleed, as espn porch monkeys fond out. But had to opine there that Chaucer adored Dante, and his debt to Boccacchio is something even yalies have to admit to, danger for peeps who disparage Virgil as a copyist, who was somehow a plagiarist and yet always wrong. This creep, as the sun was about to be blotted dot as it would being my magic story as the earth is magic in itself as Calvino said, the world was more magical when I thought it covered hell and now see it as malarkey,  a ball of mud gliding through escapes and thus had to reacquaint himself with Dante and divine,  Ovid and the sun the moon and  the elephant of Pliny, whose need to see Vulcan is reduced to mere exertion in that awful little page about AM , which made me ask, why am I reading this…?,  and can pretty much figure who Dianna Riggs in this, and various James Bonds and the rest is a lot of Ello Ello I never saw anyway. I stopped reading any annotations of this wonderer- full comic, the League of extraordinary gentlemen, did I aver mention my like from AM for knowing who Emilio Salagari, the pirate writer adored by my Ma  was, anyway, stopped reading these annotations when again words like Abilist were so used, soon enough all but white woman will be suspect as the war show, acridly not a comedy, will be brought to you by Miss Clairol, rape brought up brusquely by the apprentices of the genius, and too mostly, a disquiet for the gollywog, but again the sopranos always is just fine, in fact art at its zenith, or at least steam escaping…

Anyway, before he was covered literally and figuratively in cement with his students apprentice there—ah, the point of my story! –Italo did resort to Gore Vidal’s hated Borges dreaded word magma. This bothered me, I know not why, this email amid the corona, that you d tell someone how their work was beneath you, Dante somehow to be dismissed in this war adoring minstrel show cesspool, I can hurdle bad vespers too, all us jurist schoolboys can, ask Hilary, as saw in that day of stage stillness the barbarians perpetually at the gate of a dark ages that keeps putting quotes around it, as if it a golden age, where everything’s yellow, if it is, only severely from the too much use of pyrite. Sadly in the last warm days of summer, where I placed my Italianate witch, as she as I did dread the return to an awful school, as I said sending in the appointed query, but then sent a work they somehow never see coming, if I were a Magnus, and was close enough’s a Jesuit boy, the first thing I would do was to make the homeroom, ...disappear. It was reported that Jerry Lewis died, alas he lived a nice long life, bless his heart, as something of an unbridled monster and pompous ass emeritus, but I always admired him, too, if this is an empire without satire and even circus are barred up, how can clowns survive, much less cry out arias, as this was never Italay to begin with, you don’t have the decency to pull it off. Jerry died in the last stays of summer, sad, but bless his heart, as a fan amid this sewer, what fag was  upset abut something Jerry said, what Gook, what Jews, what anyone was upset, NOT  told to be a guy, and laugh along, and accept the jokes of his partner,   a one man Italian pro- defamation rascal......? As sadly am amid the last sways of summer, as I don’t have to swerve because I wasn’t waiting to get my envelope anyway, much less budget for less, as see I didn’t have to drop the subject about evils of statues in the Kenssate, sorry Capitoline, I not, LIKE first time, backest bencher, high yellow coon and old bat lady Ligosi didn’t want to be in the summer stock run of Bye, bye, Byrdie....oh, look whose coming to decades, EDDDDDD SULLLIVVVVANNNNNNNN. 

In this way back machine called a television set, set as it is on 1970 as my epic is and was, so fuck you to the ya magic spellers, maybe the fact that Harold bloom and the Jesus freaks hate Potterville, …Jimmy’s Christmas nightmare, remember kids…?, says something, like how we all feel about the senate now, according to the numbers. As Recall  an America when Jo Ann Pluge was still a delightful Dish, before a house yid  like Gelbart decided that somehow devoted to marriage and the god damn regular army was what MASH was written for, to begin with, and I knew it as a kid, such  just weren’t, at least not to Robert Altman admiring me. No Dishes anymore, but an Arab at one if the sites I frequent, who is ver shivitzed over as many as five war shows done for the flyover forest where the bush family gets it victims, how did I know that eventually after all that shit, squibs full of detergent blood were in their future, as Arabs again, ah, because the barbarians and the Spanish got to Italay first, before any Apaches. And so wish the soul of Jerry well, no room for such silliness in Bush land, as the dead sailors were being gathered up, senator allegedly Al FRANKEN WAS ON THE NATIONAL BISCUIT  COMPANY MORNING SHOW, A JEWRY J. FRED MUGGS EATING FRITTATAS AT A STATE FAIR , AGAIN A SCENE THAT WOULD BE  MUCH LIKE CORNELIUS TACITUS, AKIN TOO SHOWING FAT WOMAN AT THE VOMITORIUM , WHILE MEN DICED IN THE ALPS. BUT OF COURSE, HE IS ONE OF THESE ROMANS LIKE MACCERS FROM THE BACK OF THAT BOOK, IF FROM THAT BOOK AT ALL. I wish like my Caveat,  some woman mother would take one of her disposable sons, and hurl them on the stapes of the senate, truly happening in Rome, but again, I’m not holding  my breath for anything that decent happening between these weather reports. As, the only fiascoes have to do with everything else, war, and circus is an anti Constantine reminder of gals now old. And will remember of Jerry that great film, the best  about comics ever made, Artists sand models, and wish he would have done Superman as he and others wished, as sadly even Mario Puzo and Kevin Smith are net allowed their go  at the man of steal. And will recall one reason the French adore him as another Welles, Jerry did things, despite his buffoonery act, that became film itself, like cutting in the camera and videotape and a lot of stuff that bearded hack Sicilian takes credit for. But I cannot be the company Wop my father dismissed and demeaned and deterred, who allow middlebrow white chicks to say of Virgil Raphael and Manzoni, that indeed the are as good as anyone ever said they was. As but as I’ve said all year, Signora Fortuna girls, all more brooding and striking Adriennes than not’s, fly about out there, and none’s knees are safe, acutely if you spend all day looking and spitting downwards.

31 July 2017

Breakfast in America


             I got out everything I had to get out, and am getting mostly admiration, but some meanness from Lesbians who don’t like me. Not as many as you’d think, and yet still send me their updates, no sweetheart, like that world out there for Coriolanus, it’s the white house to you dear Hillary, you aint getting my 8 dollars to submit anything, toots. She sent me seething shit about how the white woman are the vanguard if this revaluation, meaning I guess this time it matters, or is catered, or maybe that the Clintons put out all the niggers in jail. Hummm, its not quite Lysastrata when Mother Hubbard screeched for war worse than any Maccers ever did. I DID NOT want Trump to win. I felt badly fir him really, as some bootblack cunt on war-TV thinks she is above reproach, I bet not Nielsen’s Hun, as I hear and gather that they at Jew cereal peacocks, the never CBS tiffany, lunch at Kmart National Biscotti Company was now keen on Raccoon eyed, suddenly blonds she should have been Savannah to take the reins of the nightly news war chariot after all. Who am I …Bill Clinton…? In Hoc Segno Bubba.

Not really not because I Love that hag, did I not want trump to win, as no one does, as I can recall when this suddenly ver kemply media was pulsing Trump as hard as he was an only thing that was as they say, above the title, all the world is stage as Seneca said, ask your Husband dear… and She couldn’t attract flies. That’s would have been a warning, but what is…? I didn’t want Trump to win, as I had an inkling in the verily essay here that you were planning your greatest Incognito ever, a detraction of  a billionaire, like that story about Cato beaten worse than like  a thug in the streets and being a senator, caused the people to have what Machiavelli called the frozen moment of realization. No one mattered but him. And Caesar, remember him, kids,…?, always on stage and in the wings Czar, a Hillary with less testosterone, Caesar sprang into action and killed the burley centurions only doing his bidding as he saw it was too open, see, and so who could I not want to see this empire die in a misaim and a parade regimented float and keeping time by some praetorian guard with a stele wheeling Jewish cripple as Cassius…?. So my brother calls out to me as I am making dinner and he said now, according to some entrainment tonight show that Caesar Trump will be a film…so that means what he said, their in it for the long haul or well still be slashing this poor lug and vulgarian two years from now beating the same horse, which he said, has basically been Hillary’s life every day since her wedding night.

Oh, Roman farce is a bitch old lady, remember that, why I hope they win this and place you in as the mother in law of the Pope. CAUSE I REMEMBER lots of things like how this Pollock cow  and that Nance on the morning I recall being 15  and her father, the Prince Of Poland just being there and quoting as they all did once, was something that urged Teddy to run in 1980, ah the dream will never die, unless we drone it. Oh, I’m watching hubby, as when someone is used to not giving some hag the prerequisite respect one should as my ma said, elicit to give a wife, something tell me she is as queen is proudly out of the question…But not so sure that any amount of rain can get that mantle off  of old bubbas back, no tempest tossed can heft him to let that Mantua ho, I take it, as think someone will go into that rain long before Trump, and at the mossy opportune moment  that she will find out who this was all being done for and whim not, as all the lesbians turn into the backdrop we all are to the Bush familia. I have a feeling at a time no more important or even built   to more   than any other, there is evil and viciousness in the banality of life, a third act shall come to pass, I reckon it, as at maybe not so much midnight, nothing so Grimm’s or Calvino but in the style of those Italian folktales loved by BOCCACCIO and made to reflect a coming thaw, maybe at 10:46, maybe in the idle of the day, poof!  All the lesbian’s disperser and all the horses pulling the curriculum turn back into rats and set for lower ground. I DID see the other channels like charley in the morning speak openly of that ninny and that polish princess, who are as you’d expect from the minions of a war compact to be when anyone dared get this close to being king of Sparta when they have a whole kesnnsat full of Jews and white girls willing to send men to die for their right to wear patent leather and purple sashes. But I saw that trickle away as some Jews in black rock and the avenue of  the Americas  started to think, wait a minute, overerrr here, we aint giving the national biscuit company any free publicity what with them having their  own  afternoon yaks and morning coffee tawks that need audiences now too, I mean, we all hate trump, sure, but come on, lets not go nuts…and within almost hours his alertly so hateful and hated  excess zoomed to go away, as here in new Judea, if they don’t own you, well, you might as well be, a dismissive had by Stan Lee and other Jews who lay it on thick, they might as well call you Brand X. 

OH VIV, I MUST TAKE YOUZ TA SEE GOULET IN CAMOLIT. –Bob the giant Robot. I’ve seen it, I’ve seen it!—Vivian Vane, in WHAM 4.

Got the feeling that submit able has been used by me to its best, and stuck it seems now with those who are going to beat Hilary ass as a dead horse until there is nothing left, as saw the nervousness caused by that abc poll, but then these very letters meet something else once fore, like a bigger cheek and something else too. I don’t buy this requiem for a light weight, as I SAID, I RECALL WHAT WAS SAID BY THE BRONCHIAL YENATS WHEN SHE HAD THE AUDACITY TO KISS ARAFAT’S WIFE AND ALL, AND NO MATTER WHAT YOU THINK ALL IS NEVER FORGIVEN MUCH LESS FORGOTTEN. I believe I missed decades TV Studio 1 version of Caesar, a modern dress application, which like their night that shocked America couldn’t give credit to Orson as he was in a lawsuit with William Paylay who wanted to own that famous broadcast, and all that the mercury theater of the air did, even though it was like the grain subsidy or the wpa a public funded consortium. As was  exactly everything called communist in the bloated post war antebellum boom,  had liberals once in America before Billy the kid made sure we a were all on the pad, some more than others some with  as  theyd say a first cut. Still, knew the one with Leslie Nielsen was written by my Virgil Gore, when walking through a particular hell, good to have a Roman teacher how knows liberally where all the bodies are half buried after all. Yet,   still, in this creepy time of this dying hag  pattering as if a  Juliet who wont take the poison, unaware as her husband is that tragedy is comedy that doesn’t knew its exits lines, no one is there….I scant forgo my beloved Della and Perry, every Jesuit I ever knew before they died off and before house goon niggers like those on war  TV  who don’t recall or wont and shant, that those yaw Ozarks pimps one  ran against aids victims as beneath them and dirty, true to their dismal wasted jaunts and hurry up and destroy  trump already so I can see tow crime families squeak in voracious hunger and acrimony, but i.e. maybe dirtier and thus more sanctimonious  than the other, did you ever know me when I ever vasnt..?, as missed mid century Caesar,  I guess, but love Della more, as Antony would say, or alas was it Octavian, who some critic perused what’re the hero of the place, cue the Jesuits laughter, I didn’t miss anything.

By accident, stumbled on some thesis on Caesar later and still am no computer whiz, on a Google book equalizing Caesar on screen, see how, as could see this pop art junk was less than most Shakespeare plaudits, which are mostly things worthy of Klan grand children who went to football factory party schools, and learned some new  words, as this all seemed idiotic.

How soundly in this decade one shown Ge Theater  and remember when that meant  something, this Version of Caesar, that Antony and Caesars  men were shown as fascists, well duh, but somehow Brutus and Cassius were not, ah the fault deer Brutussssh, isn’t in our stars but in our pea coats… --in this I take it Casio was the communist, but Antony the Nixon as you cant believe anything in America if twelve Jews  and Ge LABS DON’T BELIEVE IT TOO, and throw useful  white chicks in there, as to be a bitch, as Nixon is so hated all since kept a cunt and her stinking  husband named Melvyn, always a give away, from the senate as he was asked, no paid to do by the Kennedy’s, then vulgar beagle boys at the time as the senate this pig knew with heredity brown halo alas in tact ,was no place for a woman as much as the tip of his dick, especially when they were that big a dawg, to be Chayefsky about it. Did you creeps  at ge theater ,and actually the anticommunist Jesus freak from holy cross the parish drunk, did you know that in his battles with  Alger Hiss as the priests taught me, that the Kennedy boys were right there with Nixon, as  communist then was a coed word as still might be for Jew, and that family had it tough enough with Happys  husband screeching about them  being catholic and half step  above Italian before bled all over  that  Jews affinity. And, the liberators of Rome as they were epauletted for like three full days, as my knowing that got me a John Batchelor liked admiration for some, as that sort of as Parry would say, rescinds motive, but then we all have to be Roy Cohn, do we not…? So then,  they apparatchiks, ah their heirs, were shown as bankers, or above the fray praetorians as you’d see  at a Bush family vacation. Wait a minute, you mean, who ever this is, that Brutus wasn’t Caesars man…? Or that’s right he was Caesar boy, I gauss. As Was asked as one placed sent the reborn Mister Stupendous begged off though was told to résumé it to their oligarchy publishing specifications, but then as usual someone read my Blog, and all, that’s fine with me, not being one of you has been a forming quality of mine since the gild of whatever cunts were destroying Nixon, as someone always has to be dirty as than she, and god knows its tight and certainly don’t work for a loving. Sorry a living. As Candy is after all Bubba boys still a pinup Beatrice as I think I actually herd him say, but like Kemeter  he  becomes more of  my  own  creation, more and more, as a gal told me I think I give him more credit than he derives. Asked if Id make my Caesar into a comic book, in jiving color evvvvvven, I  beg off, as Mr Stupendous no matter what, he flies again, well enough for comic work, as I knew I had too many brunettes in that, and a giant Robot who sings Lerner and low is so 1974. I dont hide behind someone else’s mask so i can play dress up and be a real radical without my various partners knowing it. I distrust anyone for whom the politics was studied under John Carpenter’s Halloween.

I believe, as said, I had missed the decides reechoing of a modern dress Caesar, which is strange, as I only have eight channels but then as said am stuck in the midst of 1974, which is fine by me as is a nice respite from this lamest Caesar, where everyone is Cassius and no one dares be Antony, as belief systems, we know from Billy the kid are for suckers, and the poor. I missed out on it, but like the CBS  night that panicked America Orson’s name had to be scrubbed from it, as I  said always interesting and instructing when the rag that gives is Raising Kane is decided someone is beneath them, and the apologias will come later on anyway, and so…


The infernal heat of the least summer has been ameliorated by a cheap Kmart air conditioner, that has made the one story, small, almost as if something in a grimms fairy tale vista, pleasant and takeable. Having the chance to resent out the play I had sent to the upper state comic book movie makers, I had  to make t no more than 48 pages, a teleplay really, dovetailing to those lovely black and white kinescopes seen all month on decades starring the great actors of the last  mid century in dramatics not  seen anymore. I defied to just start over and leave the story of Victoria and a stand on Kurtzman be, and start from a new beginning,this time, with another ethnic everyman hero, Joey Mars, as would rewrite what I saw as the  beginning of the end of America,  in what I ahd come to see as the relic  and ruin called the Joey Bishop show,as it an American tragedy, ad which the Jesuits had warned me of all along. 

But had to think a way to have like in Roman leathery literature tomes, a narrator hero, a Pseudolus, a con man, a fraud who could tell this story and show what I already dashed down as  the bare bones. CBS as  the American colossus brought down by the vulgarizing in answered prayers, as he openly turns on the low hanging fruit of Bishop as I heard and read he had, in a  sea of blond genies and blond witches  only amiability  to  the Christers and  Shyster in laws,  in the hinterland and because indeed they were blond, as read that I dream of genie was brought to Palely, he is the vane Caesar in this as was a great effect by several roman writers and  sued with Napoleon too, by  best Italian writers, but was  unheard of by hard sellers like Tolstoy and others  who  slaved away in a dog language like Russian to cobble that sewerage into literature ,  first as was Jeanie brought to the piggish man unallowed into golf clubs and 21, ah the driving ethic if all from Levittown, as magic as it had for the kids Superman was stolen from, was a no-no as they and their gonniffs at dc never understood why Capt. Marvel  sold so well in those lands at the edge of that bridge to nowhere.

But he and Stanton, his Sicilian bag man,  made a point they wouldn’t give into, not for the tiffany of networks, into  mere magical sex symbols, as I take it Jews think blonds are magical enough just as is, but that he tiered it all down. Mostly he turned down as  did the porters a young Raquel Welch, fresh from Latin Quarterish, Hollywood  palace circus, for the role of Jeanie as the peacock network and Sarnoff I take  it had no problem with making a  short busty blond into the avatar of an ancient culture, much like how  all the Romans speak the kings English. He turned it all down, especially the idea of Julie Numar, my Moonbeam beloved, as the sorceress as that couldn’t be, as how would the defective apostate of her be, the cat woman as a blond…?,  as she was still and always a brunette in almost all things she did, so that couldn’t fly, Yahweh knew. But strangely as he did have an eye for  such gals, did as I researched, make a show  in which the magic was recalled by technology, as Julie would be recast as a sex machine  in  My Living Doll, with a one time  Hitchcock  admired Bob Cummings, hero in dial m for murder against honeysuckled  voiced Ray Millan, as somehow the magic he eschewed was okay, if could be ecumenically replaced by the technological advances of the mid century boom, who wouldn’t if they could in a laboratory not build a Julie  Numar capable of circus dancing as the hillbilly cat suit as she did in Lil Abner. She on Broadway evvvvvvven,  brining down the winter garden hosue each night as she  did, as was seen as again, to enticing and sexy to play Daisy Lu, as these casing idols are Talmudic, if  not Byzantine, whats the diff…?  My Living doll was a rare and half harvested attempt by  CBS to deal in the magical craze of lesser networks, I take it, as they had I guessed seed up all the Jewish approved  magician all still allowing for Hogan and his aced heroes to come and go out of a Nazi  prison camp with easy impunity. 

Then, along there, tired and beat, I watched a binge on the nostalgic exercise, which  is television watching as want no part of The tragedy of Julius Caesar   as played by the stock company cnn if I  even could get it as don’t ever wish to spend another dime that could be cut or biting into pacoes to let  a bobble bit get into the hands of Tuner  Watson or Uncle Rupert ever after. But as watching this roman circus, I have come to sadly adore, there was the answer to my own attempt at a student one like playhouse ninety percipient the second or third done this long hot summer. There he was annunciated and visited upon me, as I said before, a ghost of Virgil from the old ruins of cathode tubes and video tape. Id watch etched videotape things with a fixture of sadness and glee, or joy and regret, like all nostalgia, if true must be. As I watch as if a excavator looking at a lost civilization, with the same way I as a dissident on a more Roman than cathlci school, read all their ancient books I as was sure that Nazis sic Germanic nun hags lesbians would burn soon enough, as I early and often thought this and saw William Fa Buckeyes willing and ecager to destroy  all they could  everywhere, no kidding, as sadly again gave them more credit than they deserved, as cunts at Yale , except the black one giving me my due on the down low, hadn’t heard of Statius at all much less to burn him, but am sure get  to that poem of transvestitism, sorry I always take the roman werd when available than that jewie sludge of yours. One moment in watching Perry, there is Raymond and Barbara AT THEIR MID CENTURY FINEST, they’d get older each night, and as Hopper would have to do yeoman’s work as she was receded to a few liens as still as vogue and hip and cite as ever, and he growing fatter and growler by the scene, too tired to be the villain made good that’s sometimes like in Marty the Jews would so allow. There would be Valerie Harper as a ingénue with Madonna Ciccone cheekbone cuteness as a killers wife, or  some such thing, there would-be a Dan Rowan rewoven as a Coriolanus war hawk idiot, that some creeps on Amazon refused to acknowledge  were part of the Roman cannon, the miles glorious war buffoon as now that mdeaved and Rachel  have made command cause all saddlers cue fireman are heroes, just  don’t call them when you are spitting  up your lungs from the aspeteos of the pippin wars that family beget for us. Then…

There he was, a hero mentioned before but now almost a Godsend a raved truth a mixture of Tasus and Scaramouch, there was my answer… Carl Reiner. A hero god knows before, as a boy dreamed of being just like Alan Brady, down to the scowl and the growl, a genius of comic proportions, in black suit and blacker heart, a mixture of Art Fern and the Jackie Gleason Mother fetcher con man he was stolen from, a college boy Jewish huckster. He came to me, in mid sundae comics in the laugh in marathon, as if a fully formed creature creation, a Gideon on a Escalator  like Trump perchance, a mix of liberal arts and outcast ragtime ethics. Carl was seen by me as the perfect spirit guide for my latest play, in which I openly ask when did Rome, or America or whatever this is ever finally go off the rails?

He was the most prefect image, to see as I watched it, this Monday night cavalcade of comics first recalled seen by me as a seven year old boy as thought laugh in was  the most adult thing id ever seen,  intently as if seeing a Olivier BEFORE ME, as the last time felt this way was in fact when had merely scraps and a image of a blond daemon accosting it seemed  a pretty Italianate girl of Etruscan walls,  in unmet adorations, you see they were the white trash tell us devoted to death , not like the Romans or Prussians, as all we have left of then are their necropolises, and the conscious second logical question in a dump where something’s called the Clintons could get even this far are never asked. This is important, because it was in seeing Olivier when still had cable in 2004 WAS WHAT caused a merely idea of a italic demon on a wall to turn onto that bounding jumping caching soul of war tome propaganda angelican brilliance and joyousness that I turned into one of my best ever credo betokens all I ever do, actually, as made Kemeter, my heart anti hero the same exact way. Not acute as vociferously or as devoted as I did the play   about Victoria and Mud magazine, again I am besotted and devoted and addled by that time, as seen in my 12 hours of straight laugh in almost, then by seeing the late great Rollin Hand the next weekend as watched Mister Phelps for a weekend, as watched Martin Landau give a comic book tv show a level of crimes and misdemeanors dignity, I did the faster draft of Tonight, as I called it with Sylvester Pat weaverish irony in  five days. The  last time I had clicked into that cascade of perfect  voices plugged into in my heed, I yodeled like Lawrence Olivier to get to be in the top 250 in an Amazon contest out of 10,000 books so say whatever you’d like now, girls, as Antiny my name sake would say, oh now you cry…?



In ten days, I received more accolades, as the warm Sun that allows Bill to as a Roman would, let his article slide off his shoulders and a bask in its apostolic wryness, oh how that bothers the Jesus freaks who have suddenly like ante war lesbos on war television made common cause with Medved, but alas the god that is the sun, acceding to even Cicero, has allowed Bill to be freed from his season of discomfort. How do I know,…?, w ell, in ten days, not quite seven days in may they had hoped for, but a turnabout being as NAPOLEON WOULD SAY fair game, in ten days Hillatta Madonna herself, has gone from reason to burn the digest of Roman law, to merely another punch line utilized and needed by that queer little effeminized bitch power monger lover dick sucker on sadly the once vaunted as the Roman Senate CBS, and no a mere plank in a sanctimonious  and spitting outwards eye. The Cyclops is blinded, mister Reiner, that those days are done and gone, Geraldine, like Irene Dunn Dunn, and so am locked back there again trying deteriorate to recorder at least requiem those days before the Jews and Italians and Jesuits were allowed like Liberace to die unnoticed and even as an object of ridicule and dammed by colored and rearguard hacks on comedy central fake newscasts la da de daahhhh. Unintended consequences, in farce the smallest thing can balloon into a pie fight, the lasted thing unnoticed even accepted in ones mind can at a moments notice turn to abject shit, in  ten days, I saw it all swerve. As had an inkling when fat bleated prop baboons  dykes had the audacity to speak of the insult that fathers days was to them, oh that wont stand as even a child knows playing Superman, there is a time when the magic falls flat and you just explain yourselves to the dogs of the local gods of the playground, and you cant dues ex machine yourself out of everything as I said, which is a  strange  line in Latin as they detested that Greek ideal that the gods of circumstance are always on their bloated boring sides. The grand dame has stayed upon the stage one money shot too long, like the Arabs camel one never knows wane the last punch line will make the stage fall in from the weight of her fattest ankles and so, after seeing the lesbians screech of father’s days, and were buying you a tie… It not that much you know, it just our way of showing you we think you’re a regular guy, you said that it was good of us to bother…oh I knew that moment on of my buddies sent me that image of old bachrd to pushing itself, that one pratfall too much too far ,too awful I knew all was about to swerve but then as I told Kartina Richardson, I am the Auger.

Thinking she was in the midlife her devout and devoted star turn, she played Madea too often and too long, she came out again thinking all was American confetti, and with the swan song worthy of a Patton duding in George C Scott, not leaving well enough alone, our Camille, came out and told America that she  is writing, I’m sorry ‘Writing” a book about her exploits as with her husband, there is nothing that serves a cesarean mind as outing yourself in the in cold bloods you cobble. Ah but this time, kids, and foils out  there in television land, oh god I can hear that fake Carl  Riener  cadence still in my head, I used it well, as a gal told me this is incredible stuff, but.,.ah yes but, they always lie, close to a Jesuit lawyer joke.  So, grandmamma, between shilling t shirts for red heads I know I recall trashing her when God Obama entered the room backwards, as usual, and doing her act by sending out paid spokes models, ha!, who all wore the cap from the busty girl in girls with slingshots for some reason, she acidly, and death to roman lawyers or comics, didn’t take the temperature of the room,  said she  was writing   a post Mortem, what else does anything she do is…?,  about her careering careening off, as if we weren’t getting that venom for free so why buy the snake…? She called it ‘What happened..?’, eliciting from  me, as you’d think, a  good line I said what’s it about --her wedding night,…? But it illicited more than that, and much worse, who WOULD HAVE FIGURED…?,  and from first among equal’s, that fagot closet everything who isn’t quite the heir  to Paar, or even to CBS late bight which was alas better when it was late movies and Kojack, as better than this sewage. He was along with many who she stupidly thought were her acolytes, no one is a stupid as you think they are, dear Ask Bill, he’d give you the jist of that medieval stuff  that Jews at hbo don’t make into series god knows, and so, they all took the shortcuts, just waiting for the chance to show, no rye drinkers  they, that’s from the Rope I think, as rye was a cheap variety of liqueur I gather, must I explain it all…?, and look Mickey this slave ship is taking in water! Eagerly and meanly savaged as she had to be because you see  the world, Mister Beal, is a bidness and the democrats of Democracy inc, well  the sewage treatment plant they have become, this jersey joke they deserve, it has been in the red now for three consecutive quarters, one more and they feel, the pinch of a recession they thought they were ascertain that no one important was living through, as that they thought Beloved Obambam could get a third term, since basically he had broken the Boland amendment easily, too.

But then, we are in the Hinterlands, and Prairea, such scoundrels as avouching to fat blamed human zits taking their cretin calls, but then, fatso I wasn't the one comparing Hillary to Imelda Marcos as an imperial on some fish eyed blond cunts show, showing again, sometimes its best just to leave the bard alone, and not try to make t hat play if you don’t understand it , much, leave the Caesar his due, don’t put a  orange wig on him, as after all, despite festooned and slathered  decedent nobelss oblige of the Bush family, well, despite battlements by ugly old maids, heist a rapist on their shoulders as if a  Marius the great, certainly not one who disfigures his victims like a  sociopath, not a drunken  driver, we learned about that too late, those of you in tower 2, all so deposed talk so very decent, decent cause they assault, sorry, salute  the war flag and sing homilies of Homer at all the right times. I hand not up for that shining old man, not an Antony like me, as you see held by another dog in that drink. As I knew all along women the con stipended were as much as spear carriers, the chuckers  all have as  I noted around here still fathers and sons  placed in jail by the Clinton dragnet  as Dante forwent more of humanity as worthless drones unwilling to take a fucking stand. As I story of figured early on in this, the setups and pages about erasing the republic had been stuck like sesame street in mad, as does the antimony, as you were never on her side, as she is after all a two time loser and one more loss and she might  have to go too jail like all those niggers her and hubby pitilessly slammed in jail to save the democratic party from being the senate party and leaving them at the end of their spotty reign with nothing. It was as I told another admiring gal, really never thought this would happen such, it was never  Julius Caesar that was the play you and your company wops and household Jews should have ever mentioned that even my enemies cant hold my typos too much against me as have read it all, and still if not sweep, will,  kick the dust behind the Golden door, which still ahs the holes where you democrats had to drill for the locks when you need them. See, It was never anything  so Roman or honorable AS Caesar, you deserved or redid,  as dying old men stand at the prodeeecuem and vote one way but sonnet and predicate as Ma says in the other, to standing ovations like something  out of I, Claudius, Seutonius, as Gore knew, is beyond you. It was never Antony you wanted and needed, at all. It was not even Coriolanus, damming and pestering the dingy of Roma, only good as the anointed variant of Cannon FODDER, ASKED TO DIE WITHOUT ARMOUR, AS BATMAN SUDDENLY DROVE A TANK AND NOT A PIMPED OUT RINKIN CONTRENTAL, AND WHAT ARE THE BUSHIES HAVING FOR DINNER TONIGHT, I WONDER. By payday of the week after that shocked poll, democrats openly in that rag said they needed and wanted the Trump voters back, no longer dogs asses I take it, as I think now that the rich have left as bushie could have told you never Trump merely meant double booking, I take it you have to make it up in volume, as new Judea becomes more vulgar and long island by the day. With ass jokes made by ninnies as if the Romans weren’t adults and did care, it was not anything even like a comedy tonight, as I sent my play about CBS in color off.  It was Glenn Garry Glen Ross you should be mouthing and all that that curse ridden brilliance entails. It was never et tu or there is a somewhere somewhere out there, in even its most vulgar and terrific Roman vitiations as seen as general Bull Wright by the grand and sophisticated genuinely decent  Dan Rowan in the laugh in that I watched and imbibed in recalling when we were an empire with satire, before we became what ever shit this now is. It was never Roman or Latin, or curt gambols or dogs of war or the time and tides of men’s lives, it was as always Put it, my name, on that fucking board, it was always Rickey Roma,it was always Denis Franz asking again the poor dumb black kid where was the coin at, and it was always who had the American Buffalo.