Scenes from an Italian restaurant 2

Hidden away, in a unseen, unnoticed, corner of a trove called Yahoo Mail, I found the basic bones of a novel I WROTE CALLED ROMAN MYTHOLOGY. It was as was asked at that time, pesky Etruscan tales of gods taken out, what in Conan land...? when wed call call the bumbling docility and the pin-balling from one disaster to another under the great God Obama as a golden age, as who figured that lifer senatorial cloak room idiot BIDEN could eventually, as Clinton dreamed once, have a credo of MAKE IT WORSE. Ex uno Pleurae.

But at least Obama didn't watch as wayward barges shut down already over extended ports of Ostia, and bridges collapsing and Easter remade as Torch song trilogy day, but then as I have said, with an answer key Mr. Dithers Biden has paid to get, the brethren loved me cause they loved the Romans and hated the femmy. But the MSS was in middling shape and only a bot a hundred pages were left, as I had excised the parallel narrative of Etruscan MYTHOLOGIES, AND a set piece bella Italian, as that was far too romantic for the The Don is Dead, and the signet n the Brotherhood Coppola CRAP THEY WERE SURE WAS HERE. All I know is that a hatred of Harry Potter got me thrown off a Zoe-trope site, and after all, 30, 000 people weren't just slaughtered over Apollo falling for a girl turned into a bundle of weeds.

Trump wasn't the one who made sure that Oliver North was not put under oath, and like I said, I remember what was said by Molly Ivins the night to Tom Snyder that this corpse voted against health care. Even the title, ROMAN MYTHOLOGY so off put some hard boiled eggs crime imprint, actually upset like some middlebrows are that they actually got such a query, as look I suppose for the next I, THE JURY, OR WORSE, it was turned down in 11 minuets, showing again, how full of shit your awakening really, at heart is. I DID TAKE out over 823 pages of Etruscan history, mythology, astrology, and I did return the book to a mere pulp fiction with some pesky humanity they save now for Jewish war criminals, drag queens and cygnets, but never Italians, and even still at 246 pages, made sure I went by the rules of CATULLUS, IT STILL BOTHERED THESE BARBARIANISM CHILDMINDERS, and isn't that a loaded dice term in the age of Biden, NO END, THAT THEY'D LOSE THE WOP MINSTREL SHOWS THAT BOMB MAKERS USE IN THEIR ENTERTAINMENT plays within the decline and fall.

Next time you gasbags sell your souls to War inc, Don't do it for Mr. HYDE, OR SOMEONE NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU HASTA TAP DANCE NOW, Moms, we all recall when your Sally's stage whispered and called him an F--iing War Monger. ALAS, Not in those hallways. AS ISN'T IT FUNNY, OR AS AN MIDDLE BROW WOULD SAY ironic, that once a corpse used by GE theater would get in anyway he could, Gore called him a never was when I was a kid, that the Portland empire, would have exploded into a kind of warfare unseen ever, with aids workers and red crescents targeted and set ablaze, as they've only found 36 skeletons at Masada, but then I have a feeling we all know now what that peerage rule is. Well, no matter what you steal, or what happens or doesn't, it was said of Biddy. That if the democrats ever lost their minds and put in this funeral cantor for Dixiecrat's and those who filibustered the voting rights act, made him the nominee if that outhouse party, even the thought of his Preatorship was unfathomable then, That it was said of him, don't do it, as hell never forgive you for it. That was said in the wings in a debate night by...Bill Clinton. I know it sounds like Plautus, but what about him doesn't...?

Somewhere Daniel Shorr, Paddy Chayefsky, and Captain Kangaroo are laughing at this Herbert Anderson bag of shit. Drop dead Steverino, as you and Olbermann will someday reap the whirlwind over having handed the party of Clean Gene to a war consortium, bitch. Take your crocodile retards tears and your perpetual apologies and shove them up your bony ass. THESE GIRLS OF ITALAY WITHE WILL BE HEEDED, mutherfucker, Bombs away. The Cyclops is more Virgil than Homer, asshole, the cyclops is blinded. 36 HOURS AFTER that debacle at radio city them pelting Bilbo with cries of RAPIST AND NOW YOU'RE ETHICAL. F YEW. Now, everything my father told me, and the nuns and ma and the brethren did come true ironically because of this corpse who called Mario Cuomo un-electable, his and your declaration of principals,...all Southies pesky, or Persky, ethics and all, as the man whoso name will molder on the Hyde amendment, we miss you Molly, permitted now he is chief infanticide priest, but then, he comes ostensibly to killing children. But then, I should have taken the offer to make RM into a paperback novel, in the age of Obama,  at like he sang of thugs but never cannibals, wow, told to remove the Etruscan delusions, and make it pulp fiction. As now, even that seems too much for those who somehow have a crime imprint and yet still can shill books about mythical queens of Brutus' happy little isolation. As have with Jo Ann, I will graffiti up the grave of Tolkien soon enough, for pop.

Seeing some liberals who have used my scurrilous work, starting to realize that this corpse in the praetorium got more money from GE, AIPAC and Phizer the NRA, look it up, THAN ANY Democrats in history, to paraphrase Woody Allen, when you have no ethics it by definitions doubles your chances of a bribe on a Saturday night. No one this petty and this big of an alderman should have ever gotten this far, and now the empire needs a shower, and not with a little girl. But cine to see Bill Clinton hectored, I do like to sue the classical with him at at times, show how far we've fallen, called a rapist, so, again, maybe Sallust wasn't his 4th favorite book either.

And yet, with almost medieval alchemy, Bill Clinton was booed and hectored and catcalled and called a rapist, off a fundraiser stage... think the word is Irony. I REMEMBER WHEN brunettes hurled from the town car were just bimbos. MY FAVORITE MOMENT though in all of this muck, was when being a weather-vane her own self for years and tears, dame Strega Pillozzi was the first to fieghn compassion for the possible corpse all are to the elites, AND SHE walked away from the over working vacuum tubes of GE trying so hard to keep those drones flying and frying girrotines slicing like knives in the wind. Abortion,,...you'd think you sewer keepers killed enough. AND WHEN I SAW Madam Hillary, AS MA CALLED HER, her Courage, whisked into the imperial chariots of now, the suvs that were dragons only a few years ago, aback hen Big Pharma existed, but now thank Gods, any one with a dollar extra bribe can get the bleeding hearts to have annurism in command. I Saw her pelted with orange drink, plebeian tang, spittle and worthy of the Coriolanus cast of thousands only alluded to the Globe, she was wised away, not with the devotion that Praetorian show a nominee gods knows, just a heated of the mezzanine by the praetorains knife holders, they didn't give out Parker brother diplomas to anyone for merely this, and Ovid's Art of Love, why Bill doesn't know where on earth that went, maybe in the cellar. And, whisked away from the maddening crowd, was the queen of stragas as ma called her, and I hope that somewhere Joe Califano is alive an Federalist target of the cvnts of empire as he wasn't wanted at 21 or the Stork clubs anyway, the message of my spec script for the Good wife come true, and I saw somewhere our doctor Doolittle, who can spake to all buzzards and all snakes, I saw the look on his draftee tiresome face, fat, but not as fat as it was, skin ingraining, like a mask of blue death, unrequited still, the look he have out more of someways than anger that it had all come to eventually this, and the curbs sides of the Palatine way, as I warned at him long ago he had member really made it up from there. The look was precious, and he seemed upset, but almost pretested, that it all meant nothing, after all, nothing much.

ON the anniversary of my Moms passing, for some reason, my brother bought a large Neapolitan dinner from a local trattorea, three of them kept in a cardboard crate reading GARLIC, salads and bread included, the ravioli I seem to like more than anything, and baked Ziti for him and my sister, and I asked why we were doing this toady, of all days. He reminder me of the date, and said, we were celebrating that old ladies life, a first of many grandmas killed off for this George Will acceptable Trojan horse, and we would have a celebratory dinner for just her an just that, as the praetor eats ice cream and crow in heaping helpful amounts, desperate to hold that Aquila before it is plucked and fricasseed away. EVENTFULLY WE PLEBS show that we don't have to career away and live lives of quiet desolation, as we, or is it he, who knows when a dimwit plays Augustus, die a 885th time, as the vulgarity of that arms deal of political science came back to haunt the three amigos, Bill this time the one screaming at the wall, whose imperial bird, the one that the Apache charity I gave some sheckles to was glad to know connected the American Indian to the vaunted forever roman, no matter who gets sleepily in the golden door, was taxidermy or had the nickle plating chip off of the imprimatur long, long, ago. Bye, Bye, Birdy.

NOTHING FOR ANYONE, A TRAGEDY TONIGHT...8 MARCH 2024.

 

Having ingrained in me a practically almost puritan, as you know the Italians are puritans when not caught inflagrante delecto and absolute libertines, depending, fear of pushiness, as the BUSH FAMILY I AM CERTAIN CAN IN A PINCH, LIKE Jewish PRODUCERS SAYING THAT Jewish GIRLS TOO HAVE MUSTACHES WHICH CAN AMUSINGLY GO AWAY ONCE A plucked and henna rinsed gal sells out to be other kind of girl, call ethnics just that. I mean, hell, that family of weirdos as my father called them, who sued generations of patrician hood to hide their own Bidinian love of death and bones, all is occult under the lace, he told me, once went after the first ethnic to run for office calling Micheal Duckakis up by twenty points as being too much a technocrat and not Zorba enough for the cotillion, where trump has been seen as a bigger Catiline than even Boated Bill was, who I still think is the enemy they are fighting here more than anyone. But I did get a Political cartoon, which I see in the truer sense of the word , in ways ethnics and other clowning now showing up on a newest Password, more insufferable than ever, do not attempt, as I have never thought they , strangely enough ever wasn't enough for that word, and they show themselves as venial as I thought, as sideways attempts at ice cream salon settings , well, men were detritus in pops cesspool for a lot less than a hated man eating gelotto strangely as the kids had to be ushered out from gandapas strangely stupid and malicious gaze, while he was busily truing to figure out with another ersatz REASON AT HIS SIDE, HE NAVE-RE MUCH MADE THAT BIG SHOW IN FORTY YEARS, BUT WAS MEDITATION ONCE CONNECTS TO ANOTHER FAMOUS PLAGIARIST OF SHTICK, eating cream as cold as his blood, while c rations were thrown from a c-17 and hit the waters of Circe, as he vainly tries to be again on all sides of everything lest a dollar from anyone, or a chanced out vote, somehow go, like his lifeforms end all his imperiled, Imperial, like Tacitus alliteration is my greatest sin, dreams down the drains.

I Got a political cartoon published in a place not much higher than a scurrilous zine, fine by me, all acceptations as I said to some admiration from a girl editor who liked my mentions of LOIS LANE AND Brenda Starr, WE ARE ALAS AS THE NUNS TAUGHT ME, NOT AL WHITE LESBIANISM ANGELS OF THE MATTINA, and we arenet all rapists and or married to one. People think I hate Hillary Clinton, but I have always seen her as something of a sacrerd cow. I've always seen her as the prize pig at the fair of politics, well, at least KL NEVER AFTER TOASTING HER, Vote for some creep who vetoed health are from the back benches. In the cartoon, in a drawing of a figure stolen by me as I did as a boy, I will always admit it, a uncle Sam wearing , of course, one piece ricking, the kind again the unmarried women and sissy's all hate, the dago kids raped incessantly A WARNED ME OF THE Icarus LIKE CRYPT OF A GOLDEN DOOR, from admired boyishly artist Jack Rikard, as a new Columbia, which was first thing published long ago. In the cartoon, again I think of as political in ways beyond the comprehensions of house clowns of Caesar, like smiling Seth, I hate the name Seth, ...its so Seth, the girl, the Rikard era Vestal hostess of the dying republic, says, Brain Fog and dullard-try as a bi product of Ovid...and yet,” she says as spreads a paper with on mentioned faced Joe smiling sways on it, always unaware that he is right near the ledge, “And yet, somehow, Biden is drowning at 30 percentage approval. Somethings, she says , are just apparent. I did get this published, another to be fair to him, drawing I did or started in the days of that self same black death, and like other Ines before me, I managed to make some level of art out of what now seems to be a wrongest move, as I could have told the clowns at midnight, always the idiot in power always kills the wring grandmother and roes the wrong daughter, and I'm sure in forty years of silliness Uncle Joe has done both, as ill just bet fellow bedtime Basile Merry Moppet Father gandar, left Colbert in the hallows of Ed Sullivan theater , a relic like he, and somehow seemed to take the side of the family who he glimmered onto long ago, as once could hear the walrus ask, what did that smirking queer Herbert Anderson ever do for lil ole me...?

Really now starting to unravel, sorry keeper of the virginal Veil, from memory, Bob Woodward, but his ironic hero Biden's final days started around 1984 when he had to bow out of a Presidential conceit, I believe that the bowling ball called it the 84 vote, you know, once he did his republican bidding and got Gary Hart out of the race, when he was alas beating old man Reagan by ten points, we couldn't have that, so, he gives that sort of state of the union addresses she has been remaindering of since he was giving eluogeis for Strom and voting No against sending Tallmedge out of the senate, it was above his pay grade, isn't it still...? He gave a state of the union where he spent more time speaking about Mars Bars than the boarder he , sorry girls at aremimetarium news on the march, literally, but mars bars seem to me to , if i recall the innuendos the Clinton often sued and could eek into the dialog at The Good Wife, now interestingly gone, they seemed to me to have always been an open secret about how he could use them as a kind of aphrodisiac. HE ALSO ,MORE LIKE THE DARED HOUSE OF COMMONS THAN ANY Roman senate, took questions and such from the audience , and as he has since i was in middle school, goes on tangets and rediroaril replays like the Floyd R Turbo that he mirrors, and iwthout the chram of timing. He speaks of having a come to Jesus moment with the Herod of new Judea, after even Boiney speaks of being stuck with him, and an outrage that his hands are bloody with ,w ell, what is it 30,000 people, as even Arabs, at 5 pints of blood each, isn't that right, . Anyways its a river of Hell, a Stygian mess, into which badly aimed chicken parts are dropped,as he thinks himself doing a Marshall plan, irony inherent in the very words. EN CAN HARE THE SANCTIMONIOUS ON THIS DAY TWOFERS THE HOLLYWOOD FEAST DAY TO CELLULOID AND TO CLEAVE, of a sort only Ohioan is if not dad as Joy Bahear actually wised once, between mob wife taping, no kidding, but again she didn't know why it was called a "Theater of war", I guess she never read Commentaries like me and Bill, and vultures of a feather to molt together, and limping is everywhere and Fiches do rot from the gills down, and trees die at the crown, I can hear the come to Jesus , Sunday go to meeting UN AS A THOUSAND MONKEYS SCRAPPING THEIR SIMIAN HANDS ACROSS A THOUSAND BLACK BOARDS, and Jews everywhere, at least for a Sunday morning , as their American scene dream wives and brood mares tape and scrape and drag queen themselves for a unscathed festival for films also unseen, …

“And then saw, as father Francis taught me of the moment of revitrovi, which means, now you so know. And despite my attempts at playacting as a Petronius and Gore Vidal, I saw heinous awful everyone's cousin, mourning Joe and his Morning with Desi and Lucy parner, Miss Polish Sausage 1992, and thought of how he Javier-ed and hectored the Roman lover valedictorian and his finally tamed Catherina, and like Ma hearing of that smiling incessantly alderman telling his dying solder son, on his dearth bed, and not Troy, this Achilles died in bed, hed keep the Clinton's out, so die in peace Sonny boy, his overfed face made me shudder ,and quickly make a sign to ward away Germanic evils. Even in the Jewish bible all demons have blond hair I ASK , as Trump is still winning, we bring good things to-blight, who else gets this ensnarement from the grave of Olbermann and Morgan, who else gets the full GE between Miss Poland scarfing down pirogi's, will anyone ever be anti war again, at the tower where Clinton enemies have gone to die...? Since Reagan they've always had some bag of shit who is willing to stand in the way of anyone bringing the imperium peace and free aspirin. Just keep your bullshity credos about communism away from the TVA or else, measles an drones for all! Ill give back the Amana range and take the big deal Monty, as I remember he was there first.”

I was watching the Musters, which despite the hatreds and readers of the New York-er and the middlebrows children of Alan Brady, playing hippies since Jathro, who make a point about how much they hate that elf same rag which Gore , lauded by pops, said was the Police gazette without the warmth, is more witty than any political shit now. . My brother came in while I was scanning drawings to end out, and showed me his phone. I had heard the tinkle, as Big Al Seuss would say when i was a kid, but thought again it as the politician ads he has come to hate. READ THIS HE SAID, AND showed it, he still uses a pathetically obsolete flip phone he uses to, almnost at me. I just wont listen, he is certain.

It read, Mar 9 Turnus, Martin Scorsese likes your comment. http://fb/25Z1Ys5yuYWgxYI

HE SMILED, and shook his head at me, SEE, HE SAID, I told you, you are a Roman knight, kiddo, he said, And all of that Jesuit armor on you mean that they might pretend to hate you, but they read you, ...and eventually, [in a weekend in which a bloated televised academy wards might be worse than anything John Severn or Mort Drucker can conceive of I parenthetically add, in which the burned of Herculaneum, no sorry, Nagasaki, and their being immolated to uncle Shylock will be nocturne and noted maid and among the hoers in sequence, or in their care Consequential] They always know, he added, Who read Virgil, and who is a D student. I am thinking this week, he said, You made him like your Jesuitical comment before heed have to laugh forcibly at the tired old rummy jokes made by bloated pigs who made girls jump on tramps and trampolines, in and out of telling us who to vote for between floating in and out of the hive that has become a remade Password. He is a bigger Jesuitical student than Ill ever be, I have noted, and said before that the goons of television should have left the politics alone and dealt more with the elixir that the peacock has tried to shill for ,now worse with drones and war material, Push that Product Rachel dear, like sugarless gums, Scope for fresh breath, two tow two mints in one, and of course, the alchemy that can stunt the heartbreak of Psoriasis. I WAS more glad and more proudful when I got a like from Jon Stewart and the now dead daily show for saying that line of mine sued since impressed Jesuit perverts and dons of Georgetown, That the Empires change and the Sicilians stay the same, a shame I said that MEATHEAD DIDN'T EVER make it clear that he would be making an Italian folktale like Basile into a movie. But then I am glad to know that both Tommy Smothers and Norman Lear died under a segregationist, means no body really cared between laughing and again I WAS RIGHT. And more to the point, I was glad once to See that my little scrawled diatribes here, thirteen in ROMAN RED ON A ROMAN WALL, unlike girls with bed sheets I haven't ever gotten close enough to Biden to be arrested for what I thought, when I got a up vote from pretty, lovely Mulatto lass herself, Kartina Richardson. She is too close to Medea for a dying Holey Roman empire that thinks Key and Peale witty, as I told her, who the hell likes them....?, obviously someone does, and think they are Malcolm X. As I have said, I have , in all things, a type.

https://theintercept.com/2021/04/27/biden-iran-contra-investigations-reagan/

SACRIFICIAQUE PRANDIUM PER IENTACULUM.

 

Sadie Hawkins day 2024.

I took a lot of crap, heraldry being pegged as little more than a on scholarship student anyway at the George town coops before they'd let the darkies and women in, and now we must all with dead grandmothers know that they died to set the drag queens free, though the Bush family called that all decadence once, not too long ago, over my inherent blood in the works, a moral imperative love of the Roman comedians, if not com-media, as a kid. I was to be far too much more middlebrow, and a love of ore on Johnny's then paramount Tonight show told me a love of Juvenal was a perfect shield to imperial madness's, and I wasn't about to read the works of dreadful half educated women named Anne who saw Italian Skulduggery everywhere anyway.

So, I do hope an awful scuttle Jewish poor mans Nail Simon, the dreadful and teh darded Larry Gelbart is alive to have seen as the Saturnalia season in which the deaths of 30,000 people, yes even Darkies, George W. AND THUS EVIL IN THE WAR ON MOTHER Rhea again think that was mine before it was appropriated by Negros and dykes with a thousand thumbs within their cracks, started to have a expense account to Pad, and how...!, from the good folks at War incorporated, where the house n*e'er broads are reduced to a mantra war ethics, by merely whispering in stage whispers as the real-tors of megadeath unravels between ceder berthed disgust, but then, a Negros gots to be paid, shu nuff. DO HOPE our transcriber, the way to the forum translator is traitor of Richard Hooker and Plautus, especially Titus Plautus, never to be seen again on CBS, satire isn't pretty enough for that vainglorious signage, is alove as DO HOPE TO have seen the wonderful Shylock and hook-nosed and vicious accumulate tear human beings apart with anti aircraft fire , as there is still hope that somehow, if alive still, like a direful Francis, he may become Pope, if not translating something else hed get so wrong that the surgeon from MASH, who was expecting what...?, Robert Altman,...?, n*ggers puleeze, had to take his very name off of it, so much the better to a poor mans Carl Reiner, whose own anger Peons to the mush mouthed middlebrow New Yorker, in a blue streak of gibberish I have seen twice in this vary Bloody winter in less than Pompeii.

I am always right, as an auger should be. Sister Barbara Ann said of me I am not always playing GE COLLEGE BOWL like some and always trying to get Art Flemming then the correct answer in some split second flat, but instead am deliberate and end up getting a better result than any other whiz kids who are perpetual as pressing whatever panic button is around. BUT , alas I never saw the American dream as anything other than a con-job an ABC GAME SHOW, IF THAT, AS I HAVE ALWAYS HAD A STRANGE AFFINITY for Lets make a deal , and always saw myself as a kind of Monty Hall, without the sincerity. 

 

 

There, in the darkness of the morning, I was full on with the acita we all feel now as the cornered toothless sugar tiger is left in the corner of the tiled floor, and I put on a TV set as the nightlight it has alas morphed into being a while ago. I, as in drakish, a grayer morning, and I turned on the television to see that my brother had been watching it as I drowsily made it to the wall, or door, and my brother had been here and left already, and watched the Dreaded Today show for nothing more than the daily dirt's weather reports. At here, in mid ancient relic of a show, a Jimmy Olsen boy reporter from the Neanderthal Broadcasting network as talking to the close enough to Harrow boy, Anglican Henry Higgins for TV Jews, John Olivier, the pompous little creep who gives the idiots from Harvard who did rape jokes only it seems weeks ago, a certain type of cover that they love at the Jew Yorker and like classicism of newsprint and the mummy wrapping of vizier of the long lost age of Capote, who now they make movies of exceedingly as soon as Andie Poo the lisp of God can get the drafts with Mumsy in them breakthroughs he was if I recall Tru, Capote's greatest inquisitor, and now sonny boy gives us the telecasts PRAVDA TEAR SHEETS. BUT, I WAS caught here by hearing Jon Stewart, his master, his mentor , his whoever that was show taught Alexander the war sonnets of Homer, was returning, which to be fair was only a a day a week but infinatly more than he did when CNN was pushing Trump to give it to Hilly but good. And i watched as a moment of what MACHIAVELLI CALLED THE MOMENT OF FROZEN REALIZATION CAME TO A HEAD AT THAT MOMENTA S THIS JACK LARSON at GE towers was in fact saying something that the pudding faced smiling idiot who they give Emmy with electric wings to, to on unwatched ceremonies, as Colbert seems just a bit too, you know...and I watched, as the Boy from Oxbridge, aren't they all...?, was caught unawares by this all, that Johnny boy was coming back to the squalid puppet show that television was, according to my pop who told me I'd be better off to forget it all. Looking for whatever wrong box he was, John 2 WAS CAUGHT LIKE A DEER IN THE HEADLIGHTS OF A oncoming car, his dead little malicious eyes lost what little pious twinkle that they had at all, even the ,malice was a cataract that had dissolved, and his eyes became black holes like in the netter of the milky way, ready to implode upon themselves, as I could see him thinking, oh, Bodicca queen of English fags, when will I be free of this Jewish vulgarian, when will I ever be free of this cretin whose crime was giving me a platform....? He caught himself, and called him a new Jordan, again LeBron didn't make the cut, and muttered something, but he would be tgsrahe by those who never said a word about he or anyone else casting like they were too good for Clinton, but made the fat jokes about his fallen out of the closet secretaries, Dellas, bouncing along like out of PLAUTUS, ANYWAY. It didn't last a week.

As I am always right, and somewhere, maybe on pages of house Negros now unrevealing and being castigated we are all one big happy curia that somehow we weren't when a goon queer at CBS as openly making fun of the forts black President, and the Ecco cackling of the first Italian, of course, strega , to make it up so facto, i'm sure her brains, attuned to lawyers getting ahead. Or worse, staying at the buffet doesn't recall that, at all, as Italians women it seems, principally and perfectly were just little asses to kick and rape according to first poppas show had too be president, no matter what and end up with bad first acts, not as devoted to AUGUSTUS AS EVEN I THOUGHT, ALL POLITICIANS SHOULD BECOME. 

And as a boy I was enthralled with “Laugh in “as a kid, it seemed so Vaudeville and yet so modern, a apostasy to Lucy, whose own ruin of mid sixties, Technicolor shows on upstate New York, until of course,Viv left and she became a human pratfall, too old to be That Girl, she didn't care and became a sixty year old Marlo, playing with her hat. So it was almost with sadness I saw the ruins at which the old coot from the bleeding of Saturday Night was reduced now, one can tell he is hated as Lucius would say, as it wasn't the host of the Tonight show, or OD KNOWS, Cobalt at the cyclops, that Gallianus was given over to, to somehow yuk it up and pout with, no it was the third generation of a David Less Late Night, not what it used to be, that that toothy d student, in ill fitting suit, was sent to somehow humanize the old creep who as I warned, learned long ago Death is the answer to all political questions,and must , must be paid back for having been a Nea Vote to make sure that Pfizer never had a single good fer nuthing ever get so much as an aspirin for that most anti American word, communists and therefore a non starter.

And there, the dared third act of a Roman farce, if not a catastrophe of a hated by me Greek Tragedy, there was in the bowels of the sandstone mausoleum Castillo that carted him, there was old coot Erroneous brought back to the Frankenstein, that's Francensteen, torture chamber beneath a Manzoni contempt, the war Hallar, the armimentarium what which house n*88eers dare not aye anything they've believed so delightedly before, and read it softly as opposed to how he has often read the stage directions that were parenthetically meant for him, there was old coot Biden, sucking on the melting detritus of this pertain ship, glumly eating the tangelo wop ices, that equally doomed enemy of the people , that Hadrian was.

As all Parallelogram Roman lives that don't go to the farm end as a farce meets tragedy is said to the admiration of some and the hatred of others with upwardly mobile, then yuppie creeds, and here was his last act of a desperate man, or first act of Henry the 5th,which ever, as he eat at not so much just eating, the Stygian hard core core bought for grampus at the war warehouse and the drone making house of Morgan in tatters like all the rest. There he was, in usual unfit form, with smiling toothy Set-hie, so very democratically close, look Ma, I'm near the corset of the Praetor he was so proud, as I suspect only a Jewish counter jumper, maybe a hosue wop, could be. Jack Davis, as opposed to Biden, drew better Zombies than he was this late winters night, as Sethie , could, feeling the cold of the strangely prevey ice cream haunts of the old coot, this chicken hawk, pre Vidal he had returned his war company towards, as he again made things up on the fly, never a Bill Clinton measure of clarity or even a healthy admiration of Niccolo Machiavelli to keep him from the constant butting of the black ship of state, Pindar, sorry, not the obsessiveness on race that the month hijacked from ROMAN GHOSTS ALWAYS HAD TO BE AND NOW GAME SHOW NETWORK QUICKLY REVERT TO GHOSTS OF WHITE WOMEN, NEVER TAKING A SACCO OR A TARP-EA, ever into their ledgers of blood accounts. One could see the figure of Sethie, playaiang Carsoin dint they all...?, in GE THEATER SUIT AND TIE, like a boy boy now, as the old idiot kept coming up with them, another joke as Groucho said of the critic at the Times he can only say right if told to him wrongly, the old man and the C, the dying old coot, the idiot in twilight time, the last Remanding Sunshine boy, liked his way through a photo op even he cant muck up, and said as Seething Seth, anything to be on TV, was looking for a place to hide, or Hyde as the case may be, and up in the haunts where black women don't hold his tenement of Garret against him, as he may have shown Chuck Noll was exceedingly right, and that Lorne indeed found his life's work when he was writing wall jokes for Ruth and Jo Ann, as a never my type Goldie danced in war paint in a sixties era cage. Something for everyone. For the second time in a month coined to be the times I was to remember Ma as the ash that like so much the Cather Catholics would use to themselves, Constantine, not only with dead children , but a healthy allegiance to the italic Gods of two faces, I AM not Christian, he said to the Nicaea-ists and the over wrought salivation-ed, as to the baptized and the Heraclitus alike, YEW ARE NOW Roman AND THAT AS THEY SAY, WAS THAT. He hearing that Trump, whose campaign he had resurrected with his own show of nun-Caesar- mercilessness worthy more of Alex Raymond cartoon pages liked by me and boyhood Bill, never think things through twice, Joe, I mean stupidity has gotten you this far. Some simp on the dying Clinton News Network, they have alas lost their stars, like SNL did, bitches that he is amazed at how Biden, the bag man, could love war and GE so much that hed put “democracy”in peril over his own marble seta. OH, idiots of empire, how again do you like your crow reserved....? I bet brother Bill hasn't it called it anything but the republic, like me, since I was ten. The bag dun broke. 

 

 

Showing again the plebs are on their own., its been a long hard slog since I FEEL YOUR PAIN, REAL OR NOT, STILL, A PERFECT POLITICAL STAGE CRAFT, as the age of a stage television city elitism has taken hold, as bets as it can, but then when you walk with someone who limps or in Praetors Joe's case trip's and falls and face plants as presidents falling at the tarmac inst the boffo comedy routine for some Jewish comedy writing hacks fool as it once was, and my quetsion remains what did ever happen to Tom Davis anyway. But then again, auger I am, I saw once and reported as much, that I saw grumpy old man Mac Kane once, at a senatorial blessing, some men Augustus said when he demanded Cicero's head on a plate as it were, if only to keep the pax, some men were meant to be Senators and nothing much else as is now obvious. I saw old man Mac Kane as a vulgarian Jewish hack comic farted and burped and soft showed his way, at least in his way of thinking, he was all made spite it all a Republican all the way home,., like Biden, don't forget if his praetorian to get you while they can, he was the one , befuddling straight arrow Johnny who Gore brought it up, we once had midnight specials that weren't seen as a place for senators to do much more than play the piano once, and not give unwanted boilerplate so willingly and eagerly, again , the opposite of what he did when the black creep was in, but both were possibly in heels. Saw Makers sit there fuming, no one else saw this, or cared to, or wanted, the papergirls of GE theater do have a cult of the imperial that would make Octavian blush, we are all after all Rodger Mudd, devoted to the curia no matter what casting departments do, and I saw him bumble and become whiter than usual at this ultimate country club assaulted not be merely a Jewish man, no CUOMO OR JAVITZ HE, BUT A CLOWN FROM MIDNIGHT, THE FIRST OF THESE, a vulgar, joke telling, Chuckels the clown, a little song and little dance a little seltzer down your cloak room, and I saw him fig-it in his chair, as he played the part no so well of last sane man in the mausoleum called a senate, it as great once wasnmt it though...?, even he said that reportedly usurping a line of the Gracci boys as Jesus so schlepped himself. But then now, Jews who did black face are given the same awards as Eudora Welty and Tennessee, ah we miss you Tennessee and again I will always recall that that rag that gave is perpetual war once gave a living eulogy for him, American Terrance, even Truman said his comedic airs were unparalleled, and not to a present or a few of them who had to sue death to rally their praetorian troops more than usually did, alight again, Biden, no artist dies in him, has alas taken it too far. 

 

 

I know when they are, alas, thanks to the classical bents of the Roman loving priests, done as done can be. So, as I blow a kiss as only a Clinton era Jesuit student might,as sister Barbara Ann was right and the d students, shop class, smoking in the boys rooms, greasy grimy cretins might take over the world ,but no matter how many brooks brothers are Taylored, they revert to cigarettes in the t shirt sleeve charms, and they might not keep it, as the fat bloated white women so eager to see rump as a one termed are accounted in their jeer fish eyes by the idea of TRUMP RETURNING FROM THE FARM TRIUMPHANT, AS IT WOULD ALL BE OVER BY NOW HAD YOU MOT MEDDLE WITH An old coot, played by Buster Keaton in better cast farces than this, the credo of the days of want that were so perfectly explained by the true translators as opposed to imperial flatterers of the PEACOCK ON OUR BACKS, ON CNBC, the money launders and beachcombers of our dying republic's going and coming ,see Clinton above, the latest Shylock's who doesn't get the joke, says maybe Tony the tiger is the only meat to be at an American Table at dinnertime, while lisps of God, no crickets, are eschewed and ignored totally. Nothing for anyone, a satire, no just ridicule Tonight, as somewhere a funny think napped on the way to the yellow wood of hell's apron, somehow a cretin who was so against the first black president, elliptically the cackling he did of the stragea putana who had daddy's grave bequeath to her a speaker-ship as all the knives were once out for the Clinton BUT ALAS, WHAT IS THE WORTH OF tragedy when one is dealing with the morons of midnight who didn't know not to come back from their farm as maybe a third act like Cincinnatus and Carson was alas too noble in this month once of the noble ROMAN DEAD AND NOW HIJACKED BY THOSE WHO STILL VOTE FOR A SEGREGATIONIST AND EXPAT NEGROS TO HO DDDEEE DO to da baloot boxes shu nuf!, the clowns of a lesser or dramatic GOD, FARCE A WORST THAN THIRD ACT, THEY FACE A STRIKING OF THE SET THAT have been warning about, as along with a love of Petronius and Roman farce, Since i was 15.

So, good night unto you all, all the republican graves give forth their Prophets, and no amount of clowns at midnight can break their chimes, much less ring them well, one too many begging at the walls of the imperial Birrrrrrrd, old man, one too many chicken hawks, John Bolton is alas doing the bidding of his master Jeb, his masters voice, as the consigliers where always in the Bush party awaiting a dining of blood at the Mantuan cliffs, so I guise no midnight calls to be on your enemies cartoon frolcis, one too many eatracn braves wearing the feathers of same Nobel bird as the Apache, one too many then Apache helicopters broken in the sand, am alas still 15, nobody here buts us chickens, corn flakes for all, and who said that as s joke once, as again the imprimatur strafes back, and in the ruins and the tatters of Roman histories out there who still had to wait for the age of smith corona to give them the Virgil they wanted so, no, you see as I said to the kind people who either rejected me well, or accepted works that before this goon started unravelling even noticeable to Colbert's jaundiced Eye, were unstable by the sanctimonious, too many eagles getting even, too many Roman standards to the ground, a weather vane is in a tempest, too many birds of prey without beaks, too much coops, BIRDS OF A FEATHER MOLT TOGETHER, CHICKENS COME HOME TO ROOST, Reverend Wright, no body here but us chickens, and war profiteers have to pay 8 dollars a slab of bacon too. Tragedy tomorrow, the farce is over Tonight. Say Goodnight Dick.

I hope somewhere Mario Cuomo is laughing.