MY NAME IS…

 

 

The filmmaking falderals and other time and bandwidth rich endeavors caused me to lose my high speed later than usual, but all at once around the 21^st. At the beginning of the month when it kicks in again, I find myself trying to rustle it as best as I can but find myself more often than not going to watch the film of Jerry Lewis meets batman  at Christmas. It is  a thing, I kid you not as Paar would say in kinescopes when I was a kid, that me and buddies were actually doing back in 94 as I could do Jerry passably-heyyyygh laddddyyyyyyy!-come down-- the art school is the poifect placed for me to reveal my geniusssss-- and others could do Batman voice,  before that became a pejorative.

 

I do take a look and watch, reading her is out of question so shallow is she, at articles which collect like dandruff of Maureen Dowd. Her thoughts are about what you’d expect from the New Jork Times, liberal within always reason, a dollop of white woman suburban scum upon which she slides, here hair always capable of a sexless flip and glissando. But, had to this early day in August, I had to see what Her highness had to say about your friend and mine, Anthony Wiener. Since Clinton, as an Italian once said of Rome after Tyberius, Shamelessness hath become a virtue, and who mentioned that line when you were all watching Bammy be his own reveled Eucharist, as he out of professional jealousy struck out the word Christ, only allow able by the Mo Dowd Types as after all it was in the Latin surely dead now, along with the Jesuits who died of aids, allowing the earth to become that which it is.

 

It was about as middlebrow as id suspect, she is like her Aeneas, Barry of whom she sings, and she was more upset than anything that her clime to fame, much like Drudges’ Monica, was somehow to her backward truth the Clinton masterpiece, when in fact issuing Gore’s  thorium of what is said is always the opposite of what is true, was in fact hers. We live in a dying empire, even the Simpsons have seeded and stipulated to that, and here a sportswriter hair filliping hag can win a pries for doing fat jokes in a unread newspaper, the gate keepers as happen here in Pittsburgh first look about and wonder who put that lock on the wall when we aren’t looking. Ah The Roman have gone home, a worse thing than when they even came. What have the Romans done for us, as Monty Python said, to which a thankless Stossle would say nothing, again more than not becoming the Marcus Agrippa his ilk seems to always be. Personally I would like to see not that I buy or steal it, who good Irishman Billo gets around that whole Render unto Caesar thing….why did God baby Jesus see nothing wrong with the Romans empire and why did Tyberius seem to be something he was supporting, making Caphius the bad guy…mnnnn…

 

But it is making me laugh ,as Mother Mo finds equal old lady crone distaste for the girl who Carlos Danger reached out to as much as she does for slippery—a word I'm sure she got from grandpa—Tony Weiner, which may or may not have been an alias of mine at Earthlink.net. Of course in our Grimms without the warmth, no, actually she is more akin to Uncle Walt, her clean above it all spitting downwards as usual hides a heart that would make Petronius go Yeeech, the woman is as big a disgrace as a public servant using public computers to send pictures of his majesty to under age girls and getting away with it as did Spitzer!, who a savant in the dark arts of Newark politics knew this was moment that Machiavelli would call enter-- stage left. Oh we’re the boys of the chorus we hope you like our show—to always woman hating Maureen, like Clarence Thomas, SHE BELIEVES THE LADDER IS SOMETHING TO TAKE WITH YOU, the broad has to shoulder her badgered burden, now that the NOW coven has taken hold, amusingly, or ,maybe not so much, the democratic party seems fill of men who see women as toys, and low grade whores, again making you wonder what they think of others they have been besotted to serve, or serve up. Remember when barking canine women, the bitches of war, were screeching about the personal is the political, ah but then through death and retirements the whip became theirs, and Mussolini was a socialist once too, like Stossle now calls the Romans, and once called Mother, his shicksa girlfriends and half of Long Island. Insert line from VENICE JEWISH DISRALI HERE. Its as good as any.

 

I sent an email as I have before To divine Wendy Fiore, with my own shameless temerity asking if I could use an image of hers off of You tube in WOP LIKE ME, which like everything I touch resounds exponentially away from the ten minute hat in the ring it was meant to be, like how a four page dirty Wonder woman parody cartoon turned into Pow Girl and a script that was again almost made and a 300 page comic book. These are pictures an art director at Hustler called nice work, but too nice for the crap they do. Again, the magic of Roman Tony. I asked Wendy If I could pirate the moment of her in an awful crappy funny or die like you tube Cinemascope mammoth production, where she was Venus coming up and away from the Chevy Malibu that the producer had. She beams radiantly at a diner as another Clerks is attempted, but with never with the same warmth and humanity least of all by the guy who made the wonderful Clerks, as his output has, like national Lampoons’ been headed south ever since.

 

I asked her if I could use it as a snippet, as she again is a perfect antithesis to Copula and the Hollywood gumabs than I could ever do. Another Italian actress told me of reading for a part in a Mafia movie,  or a poor man version there of, ouch, and being told she was far to pretty to play the type of italic they needed, of course them being of the age of Maureen meant fat jokes galore, or Gabor as the case may be. I asked Wendy if not too much trouble if shed relay use a camera of hers to take a quick Venus shot of her in a white swim suit coming up out of a pool as That is the money shot point which the whole film could spin around. Of closure this is strictly business and will sue the short on the portion where Venus is mentioned, in the script, but shall perhaps keep a copy in a private reel for cold nights when I am so lonely. Her lawyer emailed me and told me 

 

 

they’d consider it, as every Italian pretty and or smart, knows all publicity is after all good. The Jews, our cousins think they know that too, but are always shocked by the ersatz results that come up. I am sending such emails out to get a modicum of help here, but with always credit given, and saw on my birthday that an artist named JR whose does graffiti is doing the same etching. And I laugh, this time, knowing that those sopranos that shrimp stealer comedy writers made at Home Box office was a farce, and these creatures, as Signora Fortuna is adored by Bum loving brunette seeking tie wearing Bill, are irrevocably real. The gods of drama are immutable, and the theater is as a temple.