07 November 2013

CAVEAT.




I didn’t have the time or the money to make my Romans walls as I wanted, and can’t find a Roman Venus, or nymph anywhere around here. I again find myself too far back, when I should have been ahead, too enmeshed in the dying republic, too much a Virgilllian hater of various Trojan horses, too backwards and too poor to do that which I wanted to do. But this week though I wnated to say nothing of our least ESPN SOAKED WITH TESTOSTERONE OR AT LEAST boys room sperm fandango, I find I must say something here, in a way as the Sabines in the Italic recreation of Passover wrote on their walls in pig blood, VSLM, an epigram telling Orcus the god of demise, that they prayed to the gods that answer them.

I miss the America of Superman on WOR, after school, of Liberal priests and Jesuits, nuns who were smart, and Italian goddesses of the cinema….Funny now Skippy’s are out there to ever note or notice that Sopranos and other acts of diminution that seem to pass with less a Lambs blood upon them. If the Jews haven’t been scared out anything so much like red ink since then. Now suddenly the good wholesome white folks who brittle at slurs, equated when signed to slave wages contracts by a lucerferian Clive Davis, act so sanctimonious and so lovely and so circumspect. I went back to Google plus, after a long while, feeling left out, self imported censorship from Face book was too close to giving Martin Scoreasy what he wants, no, I’m not being paranoid, as I can say with filial pride as Paolo Milano said, that this man in his sixties, a supposed icon, a genius by way of garlic ringed laurels around his sash, without an Italian legion of merit, that Romans actually made a stink not to give to him, has actually gone out of his way, as has his ilk brethren Coppola to censer me, a nudnick and nobody, as even in the lower dregs of Hollywood where they exist, they live in abject fear of anyone saying anything other than that which they had been paid to make true.

And now, some poor sap who dared say a word that is now verboten as the corporate structure makes sure we all censure everything that could cost GE a red penny, that they, the makers of drones and the white women who dance for them are now our censers when in fact only thirty years ago when I was a boy, they wouldn’t shut up…? Go wear your Che shirts , I think you can buy them in bulk at Wall mart, dears. I STILL MUST NOTE that when the sons of Italy said boo about your sundae night mystery movies, where human beings were shown as laughable killers, where boys defecated in showers and every measure and stress could gave come out HineRick Himmler, if anyone said anything approaching anything critical, as they white trash made sure that their last minstrel shows awash as closely augured as sibylline books, that those people were called every name in the book by the sorts of pig men and fags who bloevate to an sinisterly lessening audience on cable nighttimes television. All I know is that as they constantly tells us how their thin lipped mouthes cant even make the word Nigger, yes niggerererererererererererererererererer, I say it seven times a day as the great Mooney said to keep my teeth white, I would have so say being a Dallas Cowboys fan, I accept your sympathy with accordant grace, when Skippy Bayless says the word Nigger is something he cant approach, or that channel who for all their white boy sanctimony feared Michael as the sort of Other black men that Skippy likes to think of as only na esoteric and theoretical thing.

All I know is that as we decent into a porch monkey cluster of welfare queens and pomp, again, nothing racial here, sorry Skip, Unlike Sportscasters, I read my Roman Letters and know what Gymnasium means, even if you don’t or will not ever want to know. We’re straight…!, you can hear the underlying caveat of the white boys at cocksucker central, ala Mac and Dennis, in a rerun seen of ITSALWAYSUNNYINPHILADEPHIA which as left on and being old, was funny. For the good Okie who cant mouth the word, Vile as vile can be, and how acutely said as a word vile, but no English translator of Hebrew am I like Kornheiser, like his Italians precedents, the original Jesuits I was told and am not kidding, a reaction to Spanish inquisitions started in Naples… learning Latin law and then never giving it up, sorry but the slurs come easy to me now, as oppose to before, as if Scorsese and his Sicilian hoodlum brethren shall censor me why on earth should I…? No, Porch Monkey was something the stoic and severe and war loving Cornelius called all the people of the mob that Natlgeograohic could look down upon as they never do about niggers in loincloths, but then my father and the priests warned me of something they called 'Mark Twain disease', and I wont go into it here.

As we slud into a hunching empire, Big Tony seemed to be on the ball again seeing that the big break up between the senate and its awfully too big for his britches bagman was coming, as only ten hours after an election the white women were supposed to be credited for giving to a goinniffy shysters Clinton Consigliore was mach too close for comfort, as white women are the icing, not the cake, and so even Rachel had to stunt her warbling credos to abortion as things were too close than they would have liked. so close to a man name Cuccilinilli make the race, a lasted Italian victim for whom there is no gathering of preachers who love their buttonman prince, that usually missing persons Caligula’s horse joined with ten other senators to fly on Bed knobs and broomsticks to the praetorian, and tongue lash the spook whose sat by the door. If this wasn’t bad enough, you see Racism as a charge , like abortion is a weapon, and nuns would have been proud of me than the priests that I knew that this moment was coming in an essay called The Twelfth night, --hmnnn,... where will the dictator be on epiphanies…?…and they went father than I even guessed when seeing Erkle kite as well she can when not at the rally, senators of the D party, made sure all knew this happened in press realises already a bloated and careening prince wished to avoid, telling the people, the rubes, goys, filth and trash, that these men, good Jews, white women and ethnic trash tribunes all, toung lashed the prescient of happenstance. Wow, imagine them attempting that with Clinton, but then It is a credo of mine, whatever is said by some, as in I am not a racist, is merely fictional at best , if not an outright lie, and as Father Gore said, whatever is said in America, the opposite is true… if anything is true at all.








So, a media outlet that seems to give bitterer umbrage than sports scores, at which Keith Olbermann is not the biggest blowhard but as an affable voice of reason --egads!, as they go from outrage to outrage, again Gore called such liberalities outrage as our American Hokum, now wishes to go over board as ayes a new American villain/victim, and like Clinton has trained you with Monica’s and Vincents, with a thankfully Italian name. Like I said I want no part of this, as frankly we all know now that the Larry Koker looking coach to always be in a dance with the U, a Brothers favourite team since 1978, had to go to the big dumb wop, to as they say toughen another of the Devils rejects, not quite Child of Ham, not quite Arab, not quaite human, you know, Semite as Alexander said, and another of the sacrosanct saints that seem to be in this year of cops pistol whipping maids, aren't the heroes you liked to make before. Personally, a more lazy Italian as the Drudge report tries to demean DeBlasio, a reaction to one too many Jews this close to wall street jailing occupy cades like Palestinians, I would have told old Larry and the executive of the years who made sure to blame Ritchie as the one bad apple Americans has been utilising since Nixon, again I am in a Vidalia state of mind, sorry he is gone and we are without a Virgil or he as the bilge starts sussing up, to make their own second round picks work. Jerry Jones is lost --[Freudian slip seen as posted this when thought I had just saved it, that's Lots of things, not Lost of things, but, now that I think of it..] of things, but he has never been this, something of a credo of mine own, that I am not such and such, which can be a low end of things, but to me, a Roman left in this dying republic, I say, everything I do, or don’t is job well done. I would have told them to fuck off, but like Italians gladiators since time immortal, when they were still Sabine’s, and allowed freedom if they would fight, poor Richie thought the team meant something, all for one, Romans ethics, the team, the hive, the collective, again Marx didn’t invent anything that the Romans didn’t invent first made Mussolini took the word Fascias merely to somehow save the Roman this from the reds, down to the colour they shout as red as Caesars cloak and the roman standard, as Jews on fanatical television try desperately to take the Romans and turn them back to communists, as now with blond in laws and good parking spaces , the Jewish love of socialism is over as they unlike the Sicilians have risen upwards from their crimes.






Seeing another Monica to destroy with impunity, and they are never so happy was when the filth can wave the flag and be fir drones and tax cuts, makes them feel Americans, of course , as John Thompson said, the most exercise they ever got at espn was jumping to a conclusion. They trashed Ritchie mercilessly with the new crime of the century, as the blacks and the fags are in a death serial, each as suspicious of the other over Leviticus and of course, both hating the jews. A Jewish man who liked me and my work told me of the gardens of Caesar, a film about the first programme in Romans history, brought to you by Crsiter Lunatics, that, Tony, he said, I shouldn’t care as much as I do about such slop, his word was poison, as the sopranos. The Goys she told me, Like me despite their diminishment, but despite the smiling in his face, they hated him, and he knew it. I thought of this going back to Google and seeing at faggy salon no less a celebration of who else…?…The Vikings.

Ah, even the sissy fucks and white women put 'barbarians' in quotes, not mentioning they were named this by the Greeks who hated the Romans, and the Jews, but despise the Germans worst of all. And with another Roman to chain to a rock and hurl into the sea, as we get thrown to the wolves especially from early Roman myths, they cane after fat Richie, making him something of a St. Timothy against the pillar, with black arrows of onyx head at him, as anything said by a black men, you know is sacrosanct, and You, second person that Bam is finally catching up to, must plead your own case. The back ups pf ESPN football coverage, not a ring among them, outside of Ditka’s as a Cowboy, did their due nigger diligence as they see across the channels the true damage of Michael, Deion, Mootch and Marshall, as they go into battle with Key Shawn saying get me the damn Mike, but then, as Cowboy fan, I do recall the wifts this man made to Vinnie Testaverde, Passes that were calmingly on the money and dropped. Like Fred Sanford, Key was always great at after missing a ball in his gut to do his gorilla antics and act like act like God the father himself has deflected that pass. But even they want their gladiators to have hearts of Gold, and too much anger or Ray Ray spite or gladiatorial spirt is something Gödel can do without, as cable Neros give style points to beaten men.

But, being hoisted on their petard if again as Gore said, any of this means anything, it was three months ago after the Riley Copper incident, a first demarteit against the new laws and prayers of the new age of floating magical n word apostates creeds, that hmnnn, epsn, to cleans the nfl of a black eye, sued the story of two men, one black and one white, who sue the word, often verboten, except on south park, and other going concerns, that used the word, that most heinous vile word, and all was fine with the high yellow house coons of televised games playing, all was fine. And when did the Philadelphia eagles becomes Americas Team….? But the national Gladitortoal league, again you wish, is a corporate sponsor of espn, and isn’t it really funny when one sees in October, somehow white women month, Ben Rotheleisbereger in pink shoes…? I lost a dog as a boy, why would I root not only for Philadelphia, but a man who droned --[Drowned, again Freudian slip as even Nigger One admits he's great at killing people, showing the stereotype will out, fat man Whitlock, wither you like it or not. That's America to me. ] dogs, boy your heroes elatedly black have a real misunderstanding of the Roman dog don’t you…Thanks to the Romans army who I shall always adore, fuck you Cisalpine loving faggots at salon, the modern dog owes more dna to the wolf than to the wild dog, as they knew what devotion an animal, must have to baying at the goddess moon. Your hatred of Dogs its almost Islamic, and won’t play here, just like it wont play a stone throw from the Vatican. Why should for any word said, Skip, a man lose his livelihood, while you sit there and pontificate between thug life cut outs like a ghetto Kovacks…? As I see the moderator isn’t securely Angelia Davis either and has a , uh, Augustus Concubine Silesian quality as I have mentioned, the darker skinned italic gals of Naples and Sicily and north Africa where were here Augustus found his mistresses sand his wombs for rent to repopulate Italy, though again like all italics no real Racists, he loved Naples girls, and leaft the over fed hags of salon Rome be. Why should for any mere word, words that is, that you told me were so sacred first amendment when the JDL no less disliked the Sapranoes, and you said not boo. And the Jews York times dismissed the Italians who were the only ones willing to sell them food in restaurants in blue new York when they were being restricted out of Pollock hamburger joints no less, why should Richie pay for something he’s said as Five Easy Pieces Rothjelisfucker was hurtling women down stairwells when he wasn’t dragging them into toilets, is it, as I play Machiavelli again,…? Oh, is it because, to a hypocrite nothing as sacred as a word, especially one that has voracious levels in which to hide. Back to the life again, Yo. Lose yourself. Thank God your bullshit outrage doesn’t caught violence against women, because then, the Steelers would have started this slide shocking to house N’s on espn a few years ago when they were hurling scotch glasses into women’s faces.



 

I feel bad that American film , after Cinecitta, Calabia, Fellini and de Sica, Rossellini and Americans in Paris, Claudia and Sergio, spaghetti westerns and Amacords, trashed the Italians like almost none others, never learning even a fake circumspection about it. Why was this Starlets girl here, W-----, this pin up bathing beauty, and Roman figures like Cattiline, so important to this meagre threadbare ad hoc work...? Why was Wendy so important, ..,? Number one she is gorgeous, and shapely and pretty in a awful lagoon of fake blue eyes and fake titiites that seem to be made at the Bridgestone plant. Too, unnoticed by all but me, during the Richie fandango, no, not that Mike Wallace came to his defence more than eh ever did Rothleisberger, hmnnn, what is real and what is true is as different as what was then what is now, as the Italian bishop of deceit said, but then I could commence all days about how those precious periods of yours were going to add up, as its also a symbol for a decimal point too, boy. What I noticed, on electing night which I had to watch not out of joy or even Sicilian spite, but that my radio has been busted, was that Christi knowing that a deal is a deal, saved the drowning Caesar Bammy, with a free floating hatred that all men that fat have to this themselves and to all else, and he had his ice cream triumph welcoming to Ashbury Park, and won his race, with the commissariat niggers and spics woman and trash who are always willing to sell their vote for cash. Oh, again, don’t get upset Skippy, it isn’t racial Its Roman….although when I SAY THAT I ALWAYS FORGET about the grandfathers at burning crosses in the woods so different my forbears at the milvian bridge.

Like good attack dogs, they came rushing to save the fat man who saved thin man, a nourish parody is slathered over all, as they were told to do, as the fags are agreeably quiet when Arrrec Barwwwwwin is given a show on the cable station where the good progressives can always be willing and able to talk over the din of flying drones. But I thought as the numbers from Virginia had an insinuated threat, had a warning that kikey jewey Al, Al, Franken could pick upon if he even had a flu, were coming in, as new fangless Sallust, Admiral shmidlapp was actually crestfallen that the wop against abortion, imaginable that diacteotmy , such a nuisance to blond good white women with Texas hair colouring, was making a game of it, as Italians often can. But as Christie spoke again smelling the perateoium in his fat little grasp, Ralph Kramden triumphant this time able to get out of the tenement and make it big finally, the station of good white women, they barely mentioned, that fact that an Italian woman, you see they have found their new victims, much like in Cornelius Tacitus as a woman, but not Texan and not blond, was up against this monstrous Jabba, and didn’t so much as get a moment on Diana’s Princes lesbian love -in coven show where she tells us of the War on women. Not a second was given to this woman , the natural outgrowth of Kitty GENOVESE and Connie Francis, a woman not whole, not totally human, unwilling to pay the freight ,as a priest told me as a boy, that the Italians were about to get their’s for having had the audacity to try to make it up from Rocco Graziano, still then a punchy pitchman as they then were more vicious and venial and masterly to the later forgiven for everything through his drool, Ali. Because Cassius is a slaves name to a nigger. To an Italian, or to even Shakespeare or to women playing the roles of Julius Caesar In their own version of farcical and it was farce title IX, maybe not so much. The woman to the channel that charts and graphs and pirated that Rachel Maddox is the figure of Lucian in the tent about such things, this Italian woman was barely mentioned that night was friendly fire. The greater good has been a con since Caesar ironically as called by Sulla who despised him as a boy, that faggot in Vestals rose colour dress.

Or the Romans and the Etruscans and my people, as I am not, I was assured anything mere Sicilian. Oh Im sorry, is that bigoted now....as I said, since when...? Because again, the beauteous Italian girl as I recall seeing until a race became a Scorsese punch line, and Romano shtick, raises from the Ionian sea, to the thunderbolts of even Greeks seeing her. So, I complete a film for a Roman fasti of harvest, disrupted as they do, into a German death holiday, retaken by Christens and the taken back by booze distillers. I didn’t have the money or time, to make the walls and kings and Vestals, mostly THEM, for which I have pined, but then, I was alerted quickly, and disqualified from various things long before the deadline I thought I had. This is the second great empire that is being destroyed If I, as Italian may sue Rome as opposed to the good Jews of Fox, hidden bowmen near the crossed legged blonds four which they pine, until the first rule of intermarriage is a christening, the Saturnalia tree a mere bauble, or as Savage would say Bauuuble fer yur wife.huhuh…? , by porch monkeys, welfare queens and Jewish praetorians who instigate until we find out that the Independents that beady eyed clerks screeching of Tyranny were just Obama money men appoarchiks as now they erase that Barry’s virulently ill gotten 50.4, like in Venice leaves a high water mark as the sea of carnage goes out. And I try to save the film as best I can to get it out there as almost graffiti like hells night joke at the tribeca synods which we now find out were in the planning before the nine eleven tragedy, but which the wop and the Jew were more than willing to sue as a way to pump the prime, or vice versa. And therefore can keep this all open for the next midsummer we all look forwards to.





I do not have the vestal I would have liked, and Wendy never did make a free picture of herself as one, so am stuck with the epublic domain chipping walls and silent films I am stuck with. I did go to a public domain site and downloaded a Mercury theatre vita phone of a Midsummer’s night dream, but the last speech didn't take. I am looking for Norman Lloyd in anything, but would like the Puck speech. Not so much Richie Incognito, but the jersey woman's fate made me feel bad, as neither Clinton Hypatria or any of the sisterhood of the travelling bribes at liberal TELEVISION AND CERTAINLY NOT the laconic perm Debbi, none came to even came close to this woman and at least as I am a stickler for at least make it look good. The vestal is missing. Perhaps for the next Film, attentively titled, ROMAN AMERICAN AS I.


 

 

 

 


 

 

 


04 November 2013

THE BLUE STREAK.


 
 

 

 


 

With Halloween having been approaching, though this time, I was not as toughly against it by general principal as I had felt before, thanks to the tcm channel having shown some of the best of the grand Vincent Price, who had a cad’s way of parlaying a monster, but with such a over gloss of almost effeminacy he was wonderful and brilliant, and was the immoral centre of the enthused films. I received the email I had been waiting for from a movie site, paid 70 dollars for a review and a critique, which was merely as usual strung together snide remarks, a bitchienss that My Brother caught in to before I did, and some gorilla Tactics hurled as pearls of wisdom, so, I was asked, why not rent the local stage at the highs school--yes I shall at forty and 260 ponds hang out at the high school with the Coors light t shirted dregs, and there I TOO can put on my play of Ibsen, there is a play about Cattiline by Ibsen I was told, again my brother picked up on its meanness before I did, and I can put on between spring shows of guys and dolls at Valley, when I wasn’t there when constitutionally mandated, but we all do our part. I keep and save WOP LIKE ME, But IN PARTS, like Superman, the monolith, part four, Wendy, and course, Cattiline. I shall slip into them the people I still wish to find and place in, as I’m not on any clock.

Seeing Vincent’s great Rodger Corman double features, it made me recall that I wrote a play at 16 a first called ‘Belladonna’, in which a mad scientist takes a later seen Wendy like vavoomy starlet, I have been on the watch for that sort since then, and places as a catty sarcastic lesbian’s brain in her, and made it a satire of Hollywood B‘s, but also who was agreeable and how and how not. Later I took an Italian folktale in 1995 where Satan takes a plain nun and makes her gorgeous to tell a variation of the same story, each time, as in Boccaccio, the Covert Jew clerk, or ugly now beautiful Venice woman realises that it isn’t really worth the bother to be so admired. Id like to make that a real film with actors, and black and white, maybe call it Frankenboobie. It would be like taking Wendy and somehow placing in her body the living brains of Danielle Corsetto, sarcastic cartoonist, who I both like and have both been kind to me. It was a dream of mine, …until I thought, who would really want a gorgeous cupcake like W. to come with the sarcastic comments and eye rolls that come naturally to drawer of Lesbos Danielle…? Still, it would be funny, as placing the brains of a unmitigated vicious snide bitch into a goddess-- who would win…? Who would lose…? I think my brother is right accentually now, as again it inst what I say, or how I say it that bothered the geeks, who after trashing me wonder why I do not go tripping back to their websites to see this pollution, where have you been…?, tell me about it. ITS THAT I AM SAYING ANYTHING. As again the fat girls take umbrage again, as they usually do. But I noticed that this week a Cowboy by house everything’s in the queer closets of espn game shows herald infective as he, a cowboy, because and as a cowboy, and not a redskin he had to be a diva, as opposed to RGCOUNTRYTHREE, who undercuts his own coach, or another spook waves a mean hello to a defence which had been smothering him all night. Act like you’ve been there…once. And of course, big Moron as they call him at fan-am, a man who hit 50 home runs from 1995-2000- then ‘sploded, then was almost mentioned in the anti Yankee diatribe called the Mitchell report, and when went on drinking human foetuses, HGH has been around since Grimm’s, or at least the Italian Folktales, and this year hit .7oo in a series at forty, overtaking the Iron horse, Lou Gereg, whose numbers its seems are not sacrosanct to Bishop Costas, who is silent and gone until the next invective during the next Cowboy game. Why Romo’s failings have become at nbc, like Rankin Bass or Bob Hope, a Saturnalia tradition as much as any. Funny those atricks that blow like dirty snow at everyone causing ball players to have had more contemptuous grilling form Hennnnreeee Hneeereee Vaxxxmannnn than any Obama apparatick are suddenly put away and no one dares throw at Big Poppy’s melon sized head. Sometimes I feel like the luckiest man in the world…no wait, that’s not the credo that fits here. Oh yes, ….sayyye Helllow too mine little freeeend…





 

So the pregnant pauses of political theatre make their way to sports, where somehow a good and wholesome and decent gorilla has made his way to the steroids and the blood poundings, again, like Elmo, nothing to make vibrate Anderson Cooper’s magic twanger or make his antennae’s go , uh, up. Cue the flood of tragedy porn for the Basstan parade, unlike the Romans, and more like Greeks, tragedy is what we imbibe in, until we don’t care anymore, and Mike Webster is allowed to die amid the hub caps. Now, little kids in ICU’s will with full on American wretchedness, ask Big Pappy say it isn’t so when he says he’s clean, and bald facedly explains he invigorated his T zone with soy milk, being glutton free and some Anabolics that grow naturally in test tubes. Yes, that’s it. Another Katrina Bowl that the Nero’s of now adore. New York, Dallas, even usc and Penn state, they just won, and who needs that…? Why, high saffron Alex Rodriquez is such a phoney, with that bronze handsomeness and almost effeminate prettiness, and speaking actual English like that, why our sportscasters were weaned on the Pittsburgh Press writing Roberto’s attempts at a language not his own like Tarzan, or the vaunted Gunner calling him Bobby, even though in Latin that name is saved only for girls, ala Roberta. Shades of Sopranos…? But despite even the nfl films coming out to exonerate Dezi, the oafs and the ninnys in the cocksucker all sports morning still, between sucking old jocks, still refer to the careerisms and shamelessness of Bryant and the insults to Tony Romo, who Cowboy haters just Love, in the same way you love many Italians willing to shuck and jive and gumba for their dog dinners and American Italian food, which after all, is swill. Da Ditka cubs explain no youz cauint win wid a nigger like Bryant, though it appears according to the film, lets go to the tape, that Half Witten started screaming at everyone seeing Romo fuck things up again, who told you stats after a while are less than filling…?, but the fox cameras didn’t care to look until Dez sho’ed up. You cant win with Bryant, as opposed to Romo who had gone 21-25 in four years. A retraction from the Jew and the negro and the making copies guy,… no they learned their toy department trade at the paper that brought down a President by using a black bag operator who had been sent out by J Edger, because when push comes to shove, or in Roman, knife comes to shield, you know the fags will stick together. But usually the Mud bone and Caphius show they are never so overheated and their beady eyes never shine as much as when Trashing a Cowboy, place Plautus bromide here, unless Weasel Tony is gleeful about a brunette starlet being burned, wishing the fire was real as he has, really, when not sending the maloccio to Mitch Album with the Jewish incantation of ‘enough already‘.

2. But who was it who said, back last year, when the bright and shining face of Keme--Im sorry, Bill Clinton, came out of the fissures of the earth at Mantua, said that he was going to destroy Queen Dido, brick by Brick. Slowly he turned. Now a book comes out that the usual suspects at WAR-TV have to trash, the Capote boys without the masculinity, and the lip gloss lip smacking Mulatta sluts, have to poo poo, as their own consortium polls show God at even lower than the Fox Poll, showing Zippy Kilowatt needs as a new employee of the year. I’m waiting for the commercial where the autopen examines how republics die. As Christie prepares Kramden Yards and he prepares like Lou Costello to meet with ghosts as his NYPD hat is askew. The poor soul as President …I don’t see it, but he has signed his name in blood on Obamas book of the dead, voter rolls, and thinks the Papacy is now his. This causes an Italian woman democrat, no less, to be dismissed and unnoticed by all those women lovers of Jet engine liberalisms, again, whatever they say, they aren’t married to any of this shit.

But silence is golden for only those who charge for it, as Roman loving Bill knows, silence is nothing more than a precursor of death, as Ennius, a fascist made good, thought, using the new Latin to save as much of his saturnine poetries from Greek censures as he could. With satchels of Romans ethics, their own word, and Plautus set poses and Caesarean reddish sonnets to power as a virtue, Brother Bill emerges among the filth and the trash, the women and the coloureds for one last time, to get even, that greatest of vices. And suddenly Terry Mackulluff, bag man to princes, sees his own lead magically evaporated, --how the helll….?…to the Italian that good lesbians have trashed, as their cunts are their only sacrament, sure to bring up their needless love of abortion, which they utilise about as much as the fat republicans get close to war. But then, all of American politics is a death cult, as with the smiling buffoonery of a hee haw hick, still, the student of Bruno makes small mobiles spin of their own accord, as the snake charmers and the left be hinders didnt yet learn that there was a catholic, a lover of the boy sun god who in Roman’s mythology survives and doesn’t in Greek, but then who does?, has entered the room again, all the whole you were all emptying your bags on the table and counting your paltry take. Still, I find it all beneath me, as to me Bill purposefully tempts fate, not that She is in love with Human Dildo Obomo as her favourite but still…yet vendetta will out, and he must truly despise all you all.

Its nothing I didn’t foresee, as Jesuit trained Bill saw Erkle and his proud black man pronouncements, and his penchant for having periods as beneath his own Franciscan credos and beliefs. I tried to warn, as now Erkles very honesty comes under assault in things more important than a concubine, that Bill would get his revenge on the human pin ball, who bumbled from disaster to disaster while the Machiavellian, by definition, was competent enough to bring peace and prosperity. The Miles Gloriousus had entered the Koran addled mind of Erkle and as the Koran has no Roman in it, much less Allinsky, I bet Jew baby doesn’t know that Marx like Freud was a Roman buff, but then aren’t they all…?, as opposed to the new testament, and even predicted by Homer and Gilgamesh, the half breed was floored. The epic had turned to Farce, as Nicola warned, and the star prince didn’t know how to play the parts as well as the ghost of Caesar Clinton. Too bad. I could mention names and legends unknown to you and William Shakespeare of Roman vengeance, the art of which is beyond the wops at the macaroni Co. that white women television loves so much, of fathers and son, brothers and brothers, and just assorted soldiers who always get even, as getting even is the best thing God ever reinvented. A lovely man named Bruce Kiden who I met, an erudite ante Cope in Pittsburgh called God the One Great Scorer, AND IN THIS KNEW, AS HE TOLD ME , the Romans Myths, all superior to Greek shit hurled by Jews and women, of Jew-Pater re-named Italic and his daughter Fortune making sure that getting that forth Nollian super bowl for Bellicheck has been excruciating, though he thinks he got away Scott free. A woman said of my ANCIENT ROMANCE, like so much an insult to the white women somehow, as hate the EMPIRE of the land of Vestals yet love the Judean stoners and the heart breaking literally Incas and berka fitter Arabs, that I somehow just took the stories of Shakespeare and remade them in my book. A book about…Romans. You mean like Paolo and Francesca, I asked….silent. No I said, hunny, we just fish off the same pier. Like marriage and soldiering, Shakespeare is something that the appropriate and corralled filth are expected to take as sacrosanct.




3. With this knowledge, still, I spent 50 dolll… sorry I just had a mini stroke. I spent 50 dollars to join Tribeca and send them a re cut of WOP LIKE ME. Why…? Because I have a bit of the Terrence in me, too, and can play out my part on a farce as well as anyone. Tribeca is where by the Jewish woman handler who told me Italians don’t fall in love, and as with Zoetrope, I know that fifty dollars, Jack Benny jokes aside, means more to them than it will ever mean to me. Their usual American need for money, will force them to catch my camcorder sonnets to and against the men my teachers loved and hated. With their shabby need as usual, I force my way in, as my love of Romans poetics is both anathema and too, necessary to the self appointed front men who see their imperium dwindling and now there and shown, in ways, I storm the boards and make my plea, as Shakespeare lover Bloom tried to pretend not, and not a sanctimonious Bard hater black or a woman to chide him for this one, it wasn’t Shakespeare who innovated speaking to the audience, but Cambrian farce. And what number film festival is this for Tribeca…? Lucky number XIII. Watching TV, I thought was watching Giada, granddaughter of Italian starlets and porticos, walking towards some little Italy cheese shop in one of her Holiday adventures the great Anthony Bordain seethes at their ability to get numbers. But it wasn’t, and was a a horrid, horrid, woman, a yenta in staining who has a show, there’s a show, that’s a show, where she speaks to women about Motherhood.

In this, a poor mans Tina Fey, ouch!, was doting late in the run actually, a show about Italian momma boys. This Jewish hag was sneering her way through this, but had a bit of the edge of wetness to her as she openly was salivating and not only at the Pancetta. She seemed to eat constantly though this miasma of New York stereotypes, but lets not get Freudian. In this, the wops always willing to plotz for food…really like Jack Kirby the jewishness and new yorkism is so thick it becomes its own organism like V’ger, easefully even the wops realised that shyster hearted Andrea, like various lawyers in the family, had gotten them to say things like they couldn’t cut their own meat, to her Kornheiserish delight. But I’m marrrrried, she would say in mid slack jawed laugh, a high pitched squeal of possible insinuated delight …please….don’t….stop….But to me, the Tina Feys are to be, like shameless, avoided. If I asked my Ma to cut my meat, shed probably hurl her empties of Gin bottles at my head, as I have been washing my own clothes, cooking various meals, and cutting my own meat since I was at least 20. As, the Big mouth I have been, loudmouth emeritus, whatever I have been and am, I wasn’t this, the giggling wop, and that was something. Wop like me…? You and Erkle wish, see, I am never blindsided, and wouldn’t even flirt with some of these white women you love, as read enough Petronius to avoid the leash. A Jewish man told me I am better at being a Romantic than being a cynic, though I can get off a good line, its in my Romanticism, in which I do my best, if not funniest, stuff. But in our Empire of queer house fraus , the hated Cowboy is right up there with the ‘dumb brunette‘, catered by those sentenced to write for newspapers to have, like the Gumbas, someone to relieve their correct and hidden build ups of steam. Better get to the dollar store and stock up on just add water food for the coming winter, as Julius Caesar, mr. I always win, somehow just allowed 50 billion dollars to be cut from food stamps, again him showing after all Bill knows the Romans morals better than you do. After the confetti starts to falsely spin to the ground and needs to be swept up we find out what Victory, as opposed to Is, is. I came to draft the dvd, or at least a first cut, if I cant find anyone for the scenes in AVI the movie maker doesn’t read, and thought about taking out the seventeen minuets or so minutes of Cattiline, the parody of those mgm movies that Wop opera artists saw as a holy writ, if not as the notebooks of LEONARDO. I save it as is. No matter, Bill, for whom Sallust’s Tome was a high up favourite book, would perfectly understand.