23 October 2011

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I have signed a contract with Angela, and a book publishing house, she, the first who got one back to me, as have decided to go forth with this at Roman cavalry speeds. I am on my black winged horse of Tuscan Pegasus, while and as Obama and the sun chariot plummets to the ground, and am going straight ahead. I must get something done, I feel now, as ironically, MTV is mortified at the sudden distaste America is taking to its imperial Sicilian clowns, as my father warned me the white trash are quite two faced at heart, and they can become very self righteous and moralistic at the drop of a hat, or a dow for that matter.

And now the wop clones are no longer funny to the white gals as the street fill up with pickpockets, leftist devotionals, the hail Mary said in the original Yiddish, and of course Defecation. We get our back into our limits. As, about six weeks ago, with a case of Achita, I was up and dyspeptic at one am, and though do not often catch WGN from Chicago, saw the show called Its always funny in Philadelphia, and a master work called The night man cometh. I was cracking up at one am, in the dark, and my Ma who sleeps down stairs, as a flight of steps is too much for her sadly in her old lady's American exile, heard this and started to watch with me. She likes the verve of these young men, especially Mac. And she likes De Vito, who she sees as a stereotype gone mad. And I figured then I would, as they did, be pushy and uppity enough to get out there and merely make my own mark on this wall. Thusly, went into overdrive to get it done, and have signed the contract, at the end of this year's long and winding road of ups and downs.

I have done it, and have stayed true to the beliefs of my fore paters and the Jesuits, and have escaped being an imperial clown. I am not Scorsese, not with the Roman script collecting dust in the drawer, as Jewish new York Npr gumba-jew liberals sneer at his affectations of history of china and film noir. My Kemeter, as opposed to his Germanicus, is entering stage left, laughing, into the apostolic light, and not hidden in a secondary tomb of Hollywood paperclips. I have been true to my creed, at last. And if perhaps you were all schooled when Hillary took a strange glee at the death of Quaddafi --he again proving do not do any business with uncle Sambo as pop warned me, as Assad is seemingly given indulgence, Islam style,…Well, if that shocked you that she quoted Julius Caesar and festooned a compliant death holiday triumphal Obama with a vini vidi vici moment, her teeth shining and eyes gleaming, as a love of death is all Caesar has left to run on, well, as Rome again pulsed into ragged men screaming against the prince and the street across from the amphitheater, is again filled with howls and shrieks and angry men chanting poetics and old helmets, as the Tubas plays, well, that then, pals, shows you really haven’t been paying attention to me. I have turned down enough. I feel I just do something, as recalled once to my horror that not only did I not show my immigrant parents my placement in a Jesuit scholastic magazine, I barely told them till later.

As tomorrow, I will shave and get cleaned up and go to the local bank to wire transfer the funds from a bank account the way they wish it done, and since it is a special occasion, may even wear underwear. I figured I have spent 377 dollars at least in the last six weeks just on bad commix, cheap art supplies, busty porno, and vulgarization of ethnic foods we then use to secondarily tar the people from whom the American gonniffs took it. I saw going through the channels, as cant take Rachel anymore as attack dog for a consortium that preaches liberalism as its collected Jews work over time to avoid every tax known to man--why else would they, …?, and saw some crap show about Rome. Again, it was all brooding music and Rome was called a spider in the middle of a web, et cetera as they must lest anyone hang the almost end of civilization around Obama’s scrawny neck like another plate of distinction. And as a Jesuit told me, to be fair, if it wanst for the catholic Italians, devoted more to Virgil than to any born again Jews, the lamplight would have flickered out, and we would have returned to being Neanderthals, and this whole muddy earth would be Atlantis, whether Bill Maher with the washboard face likes it or not. This will be as opposed to the coming Caliphate wished for by the house lesbians at GE, WHEN AGAIN SICILIAN QUEER POETS will be cut stem to stern, and hurled into rivers, which is why even the vulgar dancing Arabs do not much mention a distaste of Dante, at least in mixed company.

I do resent that my standoffish acts did allow others to get to make a black winged Pegasus without any of the meaning I had behind it, as do find it funny that suddenly classical gods and fairy tales are everywhere, but like Grimm's, who at least admitted it,the Jews and their love of nondescript Aryans chicks shall get it all wrong. In this first part of AR, the devil is blond and the goddess of love brunette, which would have more imminent meaning than any whole American nigger would know. And it didn't take forty eight hours for our MOMMA ROMA TO QUOTE UNCLE JULIUS, to now demanding an official inquisition into the death of Momar, so someone do tell our Moslem the meaning of the word 'Caveat' wont you...? Well, now you over eaters are finding out how fun it is when a republic dies, eh…? And, as clockwork Apricot, the italic clowns are losing their ability to make the white trash laugh, as again, another Tuscan Proverb left in the rubble comes to mind, that in fact, a Roman Pacifist is a general who takes prisoners. That’s General electric to you, bitches. Chimes at midnight.



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