01 May 2017


[This I saw was turned down as a both picture and an explanatory essay by one of those radicalism websites that  still push  their resistance shit, as we all hooddy dooo, I’m sorry, tooddle oo toodel ooo we sing and go to find the holy grail, imagine how much we could sell that for!,  as it only took the effeminates and their masculine wives, shades of Gibbon,  only five days before they got the all is clear sign from Budddddyy Sooeellll and  were told to do their rag tag shit, fine, but war is what makes Spartans after all.  Another asked me hummm, lovely work, but…do you have any thing else…just not this incendiary. Not at this juncture, no…

Always nice to know that I practice the roman magic of the Italian magic realism bad vineyard up into that salsa shit by Marquez that yes, even I can make these hags who dream of mass death and speak openly of which babies they wish for Yahweh to crib death, its Yahweh because Mars, he expects you to march yourself, which makes his image pagan to Shyloco medved, that old me can make them sanely more circumspect than you think they be, hurling fret as they do. Ah but I am a romantic as a Vidal, a truer Juvenal, although he was never my favored Roman, the creepy Latin epigrams disliked by sister Rachel was that what appealed to me, but then she didn’t have woman variants of Copula making her fathers race a new muscatel show did she…?,  and so this matters, it does warn, not affectation, thus, if you think my buddy Bill will be mayor of Salo ….I dont think so. Yes, write your poisoned penned memoirs to now commit perjury, all you like game changers, but this is the end of Roman Bill farce, far too late but roman all in all. He will be a comedian dell arte , an Artie Johnson, or a Johnson arty, say, but he wont, repeat wont, be the mc at the worst revival of Cabaret there ever was. He aint going like Elsie. Or Golightly, either. You can be  Apelius or Grimms , but alas…

You’d  think after seven weeks ago having my work torn up and hurled back at me, which like bidding cool juts brought more of those I thought would never appreciate old roman Tony eagerly on my side, they never learn, that Id accept the nicer emails from some and many even on submittable. You’d think id be grateful to those who you’d think be angered by my work and yet tell me of their  admiration of me and my work, it went about would be five to on three as Old gray mare Hillary and the democrats of Mars are down to the losers dregs as they’ve ever been, now we see a lifer like Califano is mere Palestinian to Bishop Sheen himself, that new York thug who again finds like letterman a democratic bent the best way to stay out of bail—if white. You’d think that that would be enough,….but alas, the point of  the wave of submissions was that Id be voiced, heard, seen, even sneered at, that Id e somehow accepted and noted, noticed as tersely romantically dedicated, and not a horse’s ass , as Kilary has between spasms of baby Jane and mommy dearest in drag, played the Vivian Vance end of the horse now for forty years. This was a true defiance, suburban resistance is something for DeGaulle  AS HE BACK CHANNELS TO HIMMLER LEST THE AMERICAN CENTURIONS FAIL, or some blow hard lard pig of remonstrance who as I said couldn’t resolve against vain Madame’s love of war and aftermath, we get that word from the Romans counting who was left alive, sorry, and old man Maccers --you are who you follow-- as I sort of knew but now is obvious, you, resist nothing, easily not that Imperial brass trumpet played at the edge of Tyber in the night. So, got  my share of resume liens on my own mostly without sanctimony spill called submittable, all really I am looking for anyway. As have had enough admiration in my life, as am no democratic president  fatherless am I,  so may realize that in this spasm of decency and paternity, no one wants to know about a boy when an Italian father was screeched to go back where he came  from somehow Italians are white now and the spawn of Torquemada somehow not, and may forgo dealing with these supposed radicals and preening alternatives and Indies everything’s now that they hate graffiti, as the clerics warned me, as much if not more than their grand fathers did. No more three submissions, no more explaining a seven page comic strip in which thought a media always on the outlook for bigotry would  see some at some rag convention comic book outlet calling my roman heroes colored would be self explanatory of,  as my brother said, just the pictures of the wonder woman should have gotten it in. Tell them to go back to Trump cartoons, he said, leave the pretty girls out of it, and go back to that witchcraft shit. I say as that means nothing and end up rejected anyway, as my sharper brother saw through that when he told me to tell these people asking for apologias over bunny cartoons and emceeing everything, I’m not here, he said to tell them, to entertain you. And to the résumé, being told its the best and most poetic thing sent in means nothing anymore. So the last apologia I did for a picture though lauded by some was still dismissed by a low level rag.]

2:26 pm 15 April 2017

This is a picture of a Roman goddess, Vesta or Daphne, does  it matter…?,  a goddess of the fields, of the pareiea at that the Jesuits admired and sued as  a  name for  land America, they adored land  as much as a a Luther, sorry Luthor, as I send this out as a  signal intend are like pages of a  Roman flicker of light. I am a dichotomy as have been admired of the soldier  ethic since 1974, earlier even, as  a lover of Virgil, and yet as am a big anti warrior than anyone as feel badly when mother Henna  herself Wife of the year, is out war dreaming through soiled up applause at  some gumabs coven as she creeks for more war, her only compassion whom to bomb and why.

It appears that  I was right again and that when parallel lines come together as they had there  with Yale alums and black lives matter chump bags all doing the bidding of monkey faced two bet war living patricians that such a constrain and Rube  Goldberg cartoon contraption machine cant last too well. It as seems  that Old man Erroneous Mackane and faggy Scarlet Gramnasty have gotten their prayers answered by Aries, their war god, Mars begins as does Venus as the Gods of fields, why we call them marshes, not hard to figure out, only wholly good empires like Jews Greek and America is always telling their victims what to read and what flag to fly,  as again when groining against the  sacrament of the death doling Bush crime family, what was after all the  pantheon but the greatest tomb to raid, with the mall is the road to Laurentium, but that’s anther of my  tales  unheeded and even seen as insult here, where all the  wops are  wrung from any sadness, without witch ,the Romans may as well be Nazis, but it wasn’t the Nazis who beat everybody by 998 years of the curse of power.

So ,as the assembly of queens rain dances for war, so good and decent a thing, even Bulgarian Trumpie gives into it, You’d goad him into it or else, even he can shone with the cartoon and farcical epaulets of a Coriolanus, boy do they hate that, as he sings and dances now across the imperial stage as Hillata has been the hag  who came down to earth as say Maryl Streep in that awful fag play, and threw dusts and fairy salt all over the place, as Hyppolyta is always out for blood, as wonder woman is more girlish than she ever was. The senate, called by Caesar a mausoleum once so deftly, as these things do have a life  cycle don’t they though, find pluming its beak on the nations around the globe, why Barry never heard of the Boland amendment, the idea of isolation is for suckers and maybe mothers sending boys to a perpetual war eve the first councils of Rome did feared as did know, the catapult marketers will own us all, they feared, Constantine will make us pray to the God he didn’t  have to, but then  as I have said, impunity is another way of saying a  chicken hawks put us at war again, or a  bubbas never heard of feminist cries how could be at the Tiber shore orgy and all.

And yet Romans get to be demeaned in pbs by good liberals who’d like to not remember even demean them too for how they had unisex bathrooms first, as if it mattered to a race this butch, but of course like with people empires of puritans are given to the slop and the sloth of various contagions, and meanness and  closets that the Romans never much bothered with. War is here, all, ,its only desire, beard and circus  is so  Roman and ways I guess that perpetual war  for perpetual peace is no, but then you’ll find out. A dimwit old man sings, loyally sings  of war with his high pitched banshee song, singing through the fumbling like an aging Traviatta, turned by word into Travolta to show how doomed we be, who doers death as wanton as all Grimms hags do, thinking each man killed with stave off how old erroneous’ own demise for another day, I am awaiting Jack Gifford here to start eating flesh in our perpetual death holiday  that the Romans just made a ball game, but that the  spawn of barbarians have always  imbibed  in as if a  holy sacrament, as the sun gods  have always been blotted out unlike Italy, the barbarians lived in  trees  arthritic  amid EC comics  like, inward India ink hallow wends, intoned else where,  dark black forests and the night of trees, eh were no goddess seemed to ever sew or  play with spinning wheels or showed the interest of a yellow elusive eye.

So, you are left with the stragglers, and the wretched of empire, scummy tritely filthy spics, Arabs and trash who comedy writers Buddy sorrels mixed with Cornelius Tacitus left they thought they had left back in the stoops with the stickballs of Ed Norton and such. So, the great crime family has to be careful with their barking dog erroneous Macccers, as he is always up for a good war, but his vulgarity has alas bothered the Bush the younger who seem to replicate like a Bender even ally getting in the well water, but never close to the front. As sings of war and arms to sell to any man, down the road to hell, this way to the armamentarium, swings and fumes shall our hostage bombardier.

Keep’em flying, you old bag of puss, our Slimmest Pickens ridding that perpetual bomb, the next one will do it you know, the next bomb sold will alas insure viceroy, sorry victory, as wrong way John alas is willing to sit through  the next  war and somehow always  cleanse  his war family name, as what is a pow but a coward, again too Roman, sorry girls they, even the nuns made me marinate  in this shit since I was a boy and as I  said before you can play your games of witchcraft all you want  ,but alas I didn’t get to Georgetown on a turnip truck, I didn’t find the roman after wending  my way through the various cheerleaders  and so if you think I am roman addled if you think my man Roman Bill shall  allow himself to be the mayor of Salo, as I warned before. Poor old Maccers now keeping his death loving albino face to the other side of the national Biscuit company cameras, ah but the wheeze  and the  high pitched  lilts unmistakable. As after all, we know now, at least heard on ABC  radio  as I sports radio at night, tuned out felt badly that now suddenly the sissies and guffawing fags of sports radio are saying what they really thought of Tony Romo, and now, not even as a Craig Morton, as they had hoped , as they are  jilted and they tell what they think of him. Still, I heard on ABC radio that the house everything Lester the Molester, interim host of NBS News perpetuus, the alarm sounded when  that when the shock poll came out, --oh there all false flag missions the Roman lives this aint—it appears now that our highest yellow queen made commercials as if covering a run of the mill calamity, but now we know that this was  as big a set up as where they shot law and order, perhaps, with even Max and Caroline could have made a cameo, and that this was  a fake catastrophe, funny you had to bother to stage one, but then isn’t everything, they seemed so useful since your turn of the millennium turned into Gore Vidal’s 1876.

From the tower of Burl now, we are the men of Texaco, we work from Maine to Mexico, tonight we maybe show men, tomorrow we’ll be working on your car—and how! From black narcissus, a fake concern, and the station of 21 dared call this real news. The Virgil of Van Doren in the ante camera of our city on the Styx, in the wood in which we are all lost, so good night and good, no wait, too devoted, Good night and gawdd blessssss, as now with the news is Clem Cadillhopper  and all the vultures in the shy sing a song of dooop de doop de dddop dooop doddd dooooo. And, therefore, To the scum buckets and resistance soldiers soon enough to be Inspector Cluesau, snatchers who made a point of  being ever so defaming and irredeeming over my works Tony Land and Bad versus over my more than implying that marvel comics and the democratic party  akin to America was a cesspool at a  abandoned mausoleum and all was septic and ec comic, to all you pompous hags and colored and niggers on command screeching of your matter and your energy and our importance until old maid Livia lost and thus if any had been stupid enough to have been openly shot by some cop , well, it isn’t cnn who cares, as a nexus search  of national news and not one national story has concerned a darkie getting shot by the cops, as you are unimportant now,  so  maybe as I as the only one who cared before. An alter boy of Vesta myself, a shady Italian, I might light  a roman candle to recall your sad souls  though was called paranoid for thinking we were the road to a police state back then, but that was juts because some dumb wop was shot by cops as if that ever mattered.

An Appian way cemented now bows through the marshes of sunny Italia once, our Marcus Agrippa’s and Robert Moses clerks all coining that time is money, as I joked, in this dark wood, in this black forest something that sad and roman and  decent and sweet as of all people Bill might have too be come the man in make up to think sadly and bitter sweetly upon what is lost. As I  always  put money he’d  be the one amid the laughter to recite some liens of Virgil, if only under his breath, to a last Brunette, like the dead niggers Hillary cant step all over anymore.  Ah past black lives matters humbugs, soon enough gotten rid of like Harvey cartoon smarmy snickering coons on comedy central as again we must air the vicissitudes of another white guy, do we ever not….who wanted to see and wishing death on all the baby girls, blonds too, is it ever…?, hummm, too Jewish, I say again, I am  the auger, as Hillers calves heave and  thwack in soulless clomps, as mother Hubbard throws elbows and spits chaw and bumbles her way across the war theater she has loved since Dallas 1963  didn’t so much  as make a dent, but then all those lamebrains voted for LBJ…There she is wither with mother superiority,  again a parody of compassion and her American ethic of  yelled decree bomb all and let em all go to hell expect cave seventy three….

I did get a nice response  on this streak I’ve been on, as am a hunch player after all then cold down, real down, man, and back off, but play the dice hard for all its worth, still  when some idiot scum hag was prattling on and on about Trumpie and the Pax Americana, you see Roman terms are , like Catholicism’s, a short hand for the mean and the vapid  and the worthless and the shot and such, but to be used as  vernacular to make sure Jewish hacks lawyers call bribes Honoraria so as they don’t end up  in the clink. Still he want on and on, according to this cute Lesbo girl I know, as sadly she is cute, as I am always on the meter as it were, I’ve  found unless on the pad all girls love being called booful and doll, no matter what is said, as got that from the  pi and Della on Perry Mason, as miss that America terribly, as aids to me ruined any chance of rocket ships and me becoming the Shadow. She a gal who like many has come to admire me and my cartoons of zaftig superwomen as an ante Stan lee, amid as this creep went on and on, about this she finally had enough and shushed him, to his dismay, she recounted to me, as I  am sure of one thing on life, the venial all have ulterior motives, who was this girl daring to shush this ninny, the rotten fruit not falling from tree and all  she said, using my analogy, but this she said, parroting and too admiringly of me, hey shit head, the assertive woman said,  this a party, you want to give it a rest...? Ah, but then she said, channeling me and the truer radical devotion I am a commedia dell arte ham better than any married perverts whom she noted unlike  my posts at goggle all shut up for the cesarean sorties, ah Trump called your bluff, ask Bill, Romans never bluff!, dutiful and good sissies all, she thought of old roman me, just my luck, I captivate the lesbians, story of my life!, and  she told me, she said to this blabbermouth, Motherfuker, Pax,….? she said, as some wrought all would be forgiven as the dying old men got the war they wanted. Pax, she said, has nothing to do with it. As a reply, for who is the enigmatic girl in the barley of a missing America, only recalled in the sad sonnets of the Italee of Chaucer in my youth…The name of the goddess by the way, is the brown haired goddess of the weeds and the rye, Ceresea, as Ovid said the Romans were the best soldiers ever  when they were still just patrolling the Tyber river’s blessed glades of grass.

29 March 2017


I. Like America, my constitution isn’t as strong as it used to be.

Not to take part in the meandering cesspools of what passes for politics these days, as said I was supposed to be Knusler and the Jews now are made of less sterner stuff. Still am quite proud of my oration here to recent events, as this is a picture of a comic send back to me in shreds but those horrid circle of people, wither in Isis or the senate, so sad when people don’t have respect for the noble knights of the ancients, as I was taught, or the film academy, who think their proverbial greed is a virtue , but alas, lately cant seem to make one of their caravans go off without a hitch. In this post resound how pages were asked of me, I only query intermittently, especially with the good cabals of bush help and rocket liberals and Yaleys palming fivers as they do, all polices is tunnel of love or worse road side attraction, and acquitted myself I think well, as these colorful shards were hurled in my face, when it was to an EC like compilation, I think I’ve had enough of that, as thought was sending what was called a amalgam of Superman meets Frankenstein. The Italian da was never dead enough and just batten and bloodied as a good Roman might be as the day I make a zombie comic as told a lovely Asian Gail thinking my take on Romero was sweet, I open a vain. Usually, Ill take what I can get.

This week through a Nyquil haze did see greetings and admirations to me from gals named Natalie, Deidre, Lena and Carmen and men who called my work commendable and honest and un utilizable by them. Life story. But I did see the five and dime Kondrakis at some hill less capitaline than it thinks, used a Dantean line to cleanse the stage of Hillary. Admiration as autopsy, Hillary as in the new life, the vita Nova, hint hint, I speak fluent Byzantine, meaning that all I heard about trouble in Verona was true and the always calculating Bushes are trying to make sure that Mother Hubbard gets the gist and walks off this stage they think they own or at least put together out of brick knacks harvester and found in graves, tres MANZONI, again something the censors at Yale never heard of enough to truest burn. But this story is important as these comic hacks with devotion, good luck Hill, thought they were somehow justified in destroying mere b movie Orson Welles valentine James Whale makes Ovid comics, again that is old mother Clinton in a nutshell she slits downwards too much that she gives her self a foot infection, but when I told my ma this trait towards the detraction that all drone liberals would have to get behind, as the argument is the paycheck, and the fish does tot not from the head but the mouth, she went into usual Verdiant operatic italic high dungeon, that would make Jewey Jonnie proud and that hed understand, as she has seen and railed against this before wares my stern father didn’t let the Pollock Synods bother him much, as she recalled the fact and it is a fact, that this wasn’t the first time this very character in blue and maze had been torn apart as it had been when I was a boy by …a Germanic horrid lesbian vicious bigoted hateful nun, a sister Gertrude that Hillary has too many of as she dreams of a Camilla to do her bidding or at least make her concession phone calls for…do you heat that clicking in this line, ask the white man whose hands grapple with invisible chicken all the time, his strangulation like a golf swing Hope wished to perfect, the rats are such serfs you know….

My mother wished for me to go beyond any mere leaf of Beatrice stamped paper with some cryptic busllhit of my own, but unlike the virus rampant in ruling families females, I admire Cincinnatus with a Billy touch, and know walking away is the best revenge. She calls that nun with viciousness you white gals cant muster coaxially with meters running as she thinks that first tearing of my pages caused me to not be the Vidal the nuns and she and my pop wished for me as opposed to wops in puppet shows. Yes, that is who you stand with gals, as had to as tire of the vomit on my shoes at that banquet that isn’t restricted they pledge, or at least let Frankin in now, as long as he apes the Romans at their MGM worst. I had to recall to you all and then go back to bed, that when told this story before about how I made and wanted to make a roman superman as Lou and Sly were monsters and or unread for superman, guess who gave me a like for that…why It was as fellow roman student reader of Ovid, which bothered some woman somewhere as hee haw did not. Hmnnnn, my buddy Brazen Bill. This is your final warning.

II. When on face book, on and off, try to befriend as many cute Italians as I can, as recall my father warning me about blond who’res who saw Italians as one-step above niggers. This is the empire whose Virgil is martin Scorsese, this the republic you’ve made. I saw the Dantean pages the vita nova applied sadly to Grimm’s stepmother emeritus Hillary by thee vulgar and inept. but again as with Gianni Paolo 2, are rage field of mars. Roman bill again seemed a directed schoolboy…as this morning got up, or ‘morning’, and went to google plus looking to see if I had ever posted my ‘that’s cute. Supreme stolen flying man page on my wall and could somehow download and print that as a page to keep. But amid the hicks and black activists not on the pad who send me updates and likes, did see some house nigger true to his creed saying how he was going to somehow pimp the first lady of the Untied states, actually a but of ephemera from the Clinton senate trial, no inherent the wind there, and now that that false flag creed is gone somehow we are in thunder dome and this smarmy house everything thinks he has the superiority of the poor, though like all niggers is willing to ho deed doo fer cash, the only sacrament allowed in America. Ah but like the Jew who went after the black POW flag, be careful with that’s cinematic self absorption as I was warned by the priests to never avail myself as a good house anything, or closest everything, as going to far one knows to late, and sometimes like the Jewey hack who spooled of Hilda’s losing as like 9-11, despite her crucifixion poses into vans, as a bumbling idiot, in which I am alerted now, it wasn’t a col. flag like fear of being out of it and telling secrets at all which caused her Hubby, safely still at a puerperal memorial to glad hand and play ex officico, to drive her away from Mount Sinai, to her said to be stricken by fear, as the con only goes so far, and the smell of the river Lethe started to frighten the ballsy Livia. Or is it Tyber…? Anyway, now, so much as if given Anesthesia to a drug addict they can sometimes drop dead, and then Hillary would be in that Dante’s inferno, American stile, with Joan Rivers, Gore Vidal answer to an American Calvino, and Michel Jackson, as tax cheat reverend is biliously digging away to get that solid hold casket back, showing again nigger rich follows a sad but brilliant r and b boy into the Styx. That’s called living your act, I believe though would love to see him put in jail, as that’s living your creed.

Same as how id love to see a senate investigation into Russia, proving again that old mother Hubbard is out to make Goldwater voters of us all, examining again how a cunt who shit her pants in public could possibly lose with Jewish cripples prodding her on with ten foot poles, again despite his best efforts equalizing again how Bill won, as eventually again the Monteverdi and Cappilettis, called by a gal the best analogy of the year, will beat each others throats, id say like clerical history demands, but its probably more like the reruns of Colombo. Thanks gods the sanctimonious who rail against Charley Chan see no problem in this Jewish idiot as Italian genius, but at least he inst a criminal. As I would love to see, jumping off that point, Johnny Podesta carted like a medieval leper in front of the latest Kefauver committee, and have to be brought before the Huac comitia acceptable when some Goldwater corpus says so, like anger at make America great again, dropped when it was found that Billy said it fist, we were allowed conniving compassion then before had to devolve into fat jokes about busty brunettes in Tonya Hardin’s land. I refused to drop something because Bill Clintons says its okay. As I love roman Bill as much as do any Roman moron in the comedies, but the day he is a moral avatar to me, is the day I open a vein. Id love to see Jonnie brought elf-like before this senate sub committee, usually only brought on television when Jewish hacks honking after ball players over steroids, when cheating mattered, recalling all those lockers they have been shoved into, and thus now with that purple sash that makes one better that the filth, that Hillary will take, even saying mayor just something, anything, that reeks of power as she dreams of being gotham cities mayor Linseed. Id love to see that wimp who I have seen before all my life, stand there and oath to a kensnsate table of dying white men, the senate as mausoleum goes back to Caesar, that he had to take the fifth, as that would be so wonderful to see and know that that company wop ended up as all the wops before, showing again the Jesuits were right and as house niggers show, you don’t end up that far one they cut you from a poisoned or at least a bloody tree. Id love to see this wop hack , thinking he was so good and credited and above board, sorry since days of yore just a democrat and the godfather ethic is all here in new Judea, Id lobe to see the look on his face as hed gave to be felled as the last TV wop criminal, in ways that hair plug procouncls were paid back to not have to do to Clarence Thomas or to Bush over Measly Beasley little arms for patronages deals fluffed off by a one term bizarro Carter who thought his Billys were all praetorian timber. Ah but the Bush family shall die off, as stableboys and nothing more, and Machiavelli said so of the Medici he despised, who once tortured him, that was importance once too, him for having written a book extolling the Roman Republic in Italy no elss, but then Lorenzo would grind out that green German armour always worn by the Podestas of empire is not only unwieldy, but pinches in all the wrong places.

As too, today had some asshole shit all over my Google feed, with self righteous acrimony horse manure telling people he wanted them to all shut up, and made sure she made it public, Hillary was doomed from the beginning having that caliber of tenth row players she did, as that didn’t square with her love of secrets, as it never does. As he sent out fiddy missives all publicly causing me to block him, as I don’t often , not being a white woman, and thus give to censoriousness, as after a while this page kept going on and on with this creeps homilies about what a sewer he found, ah but as I said, it inst a sewer until Bill Clinton is chasing girls to it, alas like Roethisburger, a line given to me I admit freely by a gal who had had enough of seeing Wictheipoo now dreaming of power never to be hers, a latest Tarpea in the Cambrian forks of wood, and a mothers ghost never vanquished as all Caesarean dreams eventually are always pervertedly about, the rest of us just the mezzanine to these strange erotic dreams. Ouch. So, go wash your hands as my Ma would say, it not worse, as again this bald, always a signage of the vicious ninny of the left that Jesuits told me don’t exist, this white, stooge likes calling people racists, going against the rule of their hero Cicero who even he knew when the people are hungry the gods are mute so when 240 percent more people are in actual poverty more than were at the turn or your millennium, so always know in the mafia or the senate or any Italianate contractions you know, like Levitt said, know when to cool it.

Its nice to know you are a good white person, I shit back, I am not one for passavante brining more Neapolitan than Sicilian, who only wants your negroes warehoused and not hung, see above, as have to say, sorry. But Bilbo started that resentment is the mother milk of politics creed, as he put his name on true ephemera, as I was told somehow a torn page of a comic book was not ephemera lately when in fact thought I did a good job of proving it was nothing but. I love when people ask me to emailingly explain something and then say somehow I’m wrong, when they could have just rejected it as some of my stuff is, like a cartoon about the Roman legionary with a punch line unacceptably by white woman and Jews how just love Vikings, who knew…?This idiot sent out something about how Rachel Maddow was somehow, like that ninny as the poor mans letterman, which shows how far we’ve sunk, upset that’s somehow she was a Brutus to the cause by showing that hated Bulgarian Trumpy paid more in taxes than say bloated piggish yenta dago hags on afternoon yaks, and of course paid more in the sacrament of Taxation, they are all apostates, by the way, than did the Pajama game, save the tiger Stan lee of the senate , Boiney. But not being a good liberal company wop, as slithering faggots might take their cuts, I leave me Girl Rachel alone, as don’t involve myself in the ox boughs festooned on all now as if grass crowns, involving destruction of Incognitos and or Brunettes, and leave her be, as their are roman lines that fit this poor sap, but again as can say knowing how Savonarola would stray the Medici’s and the more sinister and diabolical and smart and thoughtful and Jesuit loved Machiavelli never could, don’t wear armor that inst instrsincailely yours. This the reason I wish to see old Jonnie explain to everyone, the only VIRGIL TO STAND at the gave the Clinton dug, with nary a Dante around, why his was the computer that was hacked, and not say the closer Friend and Roman Numa, the one she you know was stupid enough to think his didn’t need to be bleached away as was her mousey hair or ratty soul as she was sure that that railcar had nothing in it, that she knew of, having not kept the Sicilian now being dragged back into the American dream that Copolla was the Grimm brother to cobble from Italian shoes of leather, as they admitted once, for, close enough.

III. Lost on Yonkers. One reason that the witch-hunt, crucible, take your pick of Lutheran invoked crimes against humanity against Trumpy isn’t and cant work, and wasn’t going to work was that I can go in any bookstore still round since Bozos fulfilled Nanas Levittown dream, and find books about the end of the Roman republic by Livy and Plutarch. This end of a republic here was guided by news rags written at a forth grade kevel, and within had food sections, ads for Bulgari overpriced watches, and bitchy theatrical notices. –AA.

From Sunday to Thursday did pages of Earthrise the space opera, and last Italianate yeoman Denise Cynthia Fontana, as I drew her in red rags walking aroused on the planet Vega-5, wandering how she survived the end of Mister Spoke, and concurrently with that did stay up until late hours, and wrote on a lap top a play as was asked by the people who are issuing my Mud magazine covers eagerly and willingly. They asked if since they already had me as an art director if Id take a nominal fee and write a new script, as it isn’t working they way they want it to. Nominal fee, --what am I the queen of England!!! Ill do it like Dusting in wag the dog, for the credit, which is all. Stayed up very late, saw beloved Della and Perry, a brunette duo unseen now in our new golden age of decency where all the good folks are blond you see, like Disney, and watched a lot of Alfred Hitchcock, which are great televised plays, and thus when it was recorded by them was told it was more a play than anything, and very biting and funny. In four days or so wrote the play out, with Laughter on the 23rd floor as a guide to what I was looking for, and in fact, trapped there and then, in those old days of Norman Lear and satire and before we ended up with Colbert, our Petronius, Stanley Kowalski with girl issues, get some help ninny, made it a Mad Manish era romance of Mad at its best, in an age deserted now. But that we cant recall where the democrats ever were, which was in power. Blonds vomiting fake kindness at me has been a long held thing to dispraise and again, recalled a time when as I said, Jews told me to somehow be their vanguard to get even with those who kept them out of universities to which dying patricians were going to make their bictehs on command. Having got it, they admired it much, but alas, even 1970 might as well be republic Rome when it comes to costumes and hairdos and office layouts, the line about living Dave Berg seen as quite sweet, and such as this Was I was told, A natural light movie. That’s all I believe in, as cineretta and Technicolor is unavailingly to me.

But spent the week writing the play, in which as I said, placed the story of a 1970 Christmas when Mad was the pamphlets of beguiling satirical choice, when Christmas was still a saturnalia of cardboard, before the in law Jews showed themselves by managing their new found love of Arabs as akin to the works of Mary Shelley, see elsewhere, and added there a story about pretty Victoria, a gal met at a salvation army red pit tossing in diems for the poor while scoping the busty sister of the poor. I made Kurtzman with her as model, creating a first oh wicked Wanda than any fat Annie. What DO YOU WANT FROM ME…? ITS ALWAYS MY FIRST PLAY. In addition, I saved the last red shirt from the starship Anglicize, as saw that awful newest Ulysses for the imperialistic bullshit it was. While doing this watched long stretches of the Perry Mason marathon, as was told by the pretty woman who called out to me, that my brother was right, he, Burr, does look and act a lot like you, she said, and it was Raymond Burrs Jesuitical poses that enthralled me as a kid, to say nothing of the aging pretty smart Vergas girl at his side. Too, a gal mentioned here wrote to me to tell me she saw Perry mason was on, and all are steamily cutting the cord, a stupid move it w as to shut people off direct tv and the Internet to try to three card money Hillary into the praetorium, as those rains made people go elsewhere and now youre getting it in the nose. She said, she started to watch just n my talking about it, catching the Perry mason show and wonder woman also mentioned by me , a first time since she was a kid, as is closing in on forty, as is all my beloved Beatrice’s.

And found herself through the most glowingly saffron Etruscan royal blue, like Tuscan red thankfully a darker color allowed to be used at crayola by the perpetual bitching injuns, who will never allow these the ability to be put down as bad soldiers as you do to almost all the Mediterranean’s anyway, you barbaric hoard always seemingly in love with war in ways the Romans never didn’t much allow, as kikey like you like making it a spectator sport as much as anything else. As, so the Italians have always been too civilized, and thus corrupt, it goes hand in hand, to get the admirations of wilderness over there, loving noble savage selling into slavery Jews, and Bush maids, see my hatred of Conan elsewhere. The most brilliant Tuscan indigo ish eyes Id ever seen, from a Sicilian mother, as her father is from the magraeb, and they recall when they were white, or at least not black, or classical is the word, whatever. So she is proof of Ovid’s rule that southern Italian girls were prettier than Roman and Mediolanium girls, he always on the make like some praetors who will be as I said the only President Clinton there ever was, and imagine such being said once and even by the Greeks, because they freely mixed the three races that Italy was the convergence point of. Ah but this before as they came to be the firstly women to be dashed to abortion clinics, as war hostages, as they found the right to choose always sticks with the mothers in law, or least then. She watched this elder man and his aging, and yet still pretty, girl Friday, they as the perfect exemplars of a golden age and a retro future I never had, she watching till midnight. As in those days we were something then, or hoped to be, now demeaned by those who have made their careers if not skimming off the cash found when 240 percent more people are living in poverty, than when the democrats once ruled over the hanging trees they used as much as anyone ever did. I also heard that again I was the auger and saw something coming as a certain fatiguing quality of evil had taken hold of new Verona as it got sick of the Punch and Judy show called the Clinton marriage. I was told, while watching Perry Mason, he as Jesuitical always the clever man for the defense-- we are all Hamilton Berger now--, as despite the best efforts of toaster and bomb makers, people remember an America gone, and she saw that Wonder woman was in the perfect flesh that was Lynda Carter, is seen as fat girls now spill out on SI swimsuit covers, she is out there and shown again, as an answer and an antidote in the belladonna ideal. In this latest month long celebration of the useful to the powerful, that wonder woman is shown now I was alerted, as workman wives who lose are shown briskly if at all even mentioned briskly, as a less than poetic witch meandering in the discontent filled Barbarian woods, the Mother of all losers walk-ins alone in the woods, less a Walden than as usual a tenth row player Grimm realization that she must be seen in revere as her husband perpetually in flagrante delecto, as she is more along to Carol Brunette as Nora Desmond, hubby less a Max than a Great Gazoo, well you really did it this time dum dum, ready for her close up she as never is, gesticulating madly and rather tragically at all those plebs in the dark. Out of poison, vitriol, and cash, time is money, back in the eternal city in his mind, the real new Rome, like the strong man, to hubby, the goddess was always all.

The Babys - Everytime I Think Of You (Live Midnight Special 1979) 4vov.avi