21 February 2014


AS THE MONTH THE ROMAN RECALLED THEIR DEAD SWINDLES TO AN ICY CLOSE, I find myself doing the ancient accreditation As were done then as again and alas I find myself amid if not pining to Venus, or drawing Roaming Hercules, for such was what he was, I am again in mid retelling of the grand epic of Catiline. Without a stage or even an actor to do the noble recollection of the sad and dying heroes, I resort to clay, plate, cardboard and quick signage and graffiti in the less than Romans street. Not correctable to a run down two bit boilerplate room which makes threadbare horror movies I am told in the snideness that means nothing to me anymore, Boy you sure have a thing for the Italian girl in your movie eh, Kid...Ha. Fuck off, I take time to email back, that is the fun of things, as she is an respondent to your Amy’s and Jennifers, which you try to save Hollywood with, but alas one cheerleader is one too much here, as I have known pretty girls behind cash registers prettier than the hags on now, as fagots who are married become acidly as lost and dull and dishwater as the women they have replaced, who replaced their dead lovers in the descending senate and the Broadway babes. It seems that the human tuchus and Americas sweetheart Jennifer are too, you know, what with both saved by henna and Jennifer faster than she outht to have been, as she didn’t mind looking like a mulatto girl to fit the part in the dreadful dreary womanish Hunger games to steal the part from a black chick, and now glams up to play Jersey caliber ingenue sluts. I once having chanced a play and feeling like a ferry of my own asked a lovely dragon Girl, Kartina Richardson, if she would be open to playacting a moll in a road movie in which a mad roman Italian kid goes across the country to save a girl he adores from the Dantean circle of marriage, now admired even by the perverts. One of the gang, was an Italian ballplayer castigated and exiled away for having taken a black player and hurdled him into a wall for his having beaten a lovley brunette, as of course in New Sicily this was seen as, all at once, racist so there went that. Allentownnnn...ALLENTOWN...?..COME ON ALONG AND LISTEN TOOOOOOO THE LULLABY OF BROADWAY.....THE HIP HOORAY AND BALLYHOO THE LULLABY OF BROADWAY! IT seems that no one cares about the Oscars at all, the queers all now doing the dishes and paying bills, and sex with the lights off, of course, like good wives in the Augustine age do, despite Directors leaded with affectation going on rounds to push their product in new york loops as I never recall a Spielberg or dare I say even a Scorsese do, as he seemed mute as the idiot who Augustus cut the throat out of lets he call him the wrong thing again, as the middlebrows, a word detested by Salon, soon enough their careless coolers must always apologize as they jump to their own conclusions, have taken hold and that’s that. But don’t you love farce, my fault I fear, as only 48 hours after the thrashing of Richie by sanctimonious fag haters at ESPN, sissies always there to do that which their bulldog owners and bullies want, why here we go, and RRRRRRAY RRRRRRICE FRRRRRROM RRRRRRRRRURTGERSSRRRRS IS RRRRRRRREAD HIS RRICGHTS AS HE IS ARRRRRRRRESTED....OH here comes Rich Eisen on the outside, on the outside, on the outside...Sorry to the bootblack broads with bad lipstick—i was taught by priests after all, But if February as good enoughn to recall the ten year olds and women who fought  back Hannible, a name unspoken in BHM,  to the point that nigger said give me Scipios five thousand Romans and I will rule the world, its good enough for coons, welafre queens, draft dodgers, street suitcase pimps, porch monkeys and others who Bill Clinton signed welfare reform despite what they said, becasue he felt like it and knew you have no teeth. So, on the give is this day our daily Jew to make sure we all together now, as Caligula horse Al Al Franken would say it, kill the Arrrrrrabs. Here is a song by

the terrific Donnie Iris, as I play Wolffffmahn,  that recalls much in the way of my eighties fall, not as bad as some, not as bad as you as kept myself tethered to the Romans that you hate and the muting you did to them. Trying to make them Nazis left you with the spin you are in now, as each day the passvante and their Jew clerks try to keep things afloat...as at least until they lose, yes we are in that treason trial part of our imperial scuffle, one of my earliest plays, but what do I know, as I thought this Pittsburgh song was great and have sued it in soundtracks never gotten made yet.



14 February 2014


I have seen a rise in numbers here at ARC of almost 10,000 views since a post called Caveat. I went back to my Jesuit training as I sometimes do here at Graceland, and felt sorry for a man, Richie Incognito, who I felt was the most recent in our telecasts in our Tarpaes, destroyed and deconstructed by the always steak holding Medeas, step men all, trash and travelers at arms lenth, dont ask dem to carry any waddah, I mean widdin reason, ehehehehehehe, bag men, who preclude show themselves as cardinals of a sullen church. The vicious, like the sanctimonious, a Italian said, are the ones who are paid first, as that sad and indomitable crew thought, which is why their Machiavellian leanings and ensnares of masters and servants do not allow or the measly self assured crowd needed by that one percent to whom Bagwahn Obama has given everything, or at least 90 percent there of. Hell, but any Italian worth his salt could have told you niggers and women, the top Borgia are only so much in number and that crowd goes wild when it is hungry and depressed and feels at wits end, something even Cicero knew about eons ago.

I take it having not heard anything all day but at the awful Pardon The interruption, which shows our Caphius, as opposed to Cattilines which his ilk would never be, they always side with Cicero, no matter what, as the concentration camp is always in eyes view, even from the senate steps, now ask for their interruptions like good bag men to be pardoned before hand, presumption to be ever so droll and thoughtful, demeaning accountable and allowances at first and I bet even with a Jesuit sheepskin that Mudbone, the black in our triumvirate of black Jew and goofy wop, didn’t think it through as much as I did just there. It appeared that Richie Incognito, so slammed and trashed by the concatenations of gawfawing jiggy nigger of the worst that cable television is lousy wiff, dey always kno when ta back down, always a mark in dere favour sur, came out and acutely sued words that our Jewish high priest, Caphius himself has told us is unhallowed for the garbage and the earshot trash to sue and utilize, highpointing that by being this above broad sanctimonious and high falloorting no one will ask him as he hurls accuses, if that is a Ham sandwich in his pocket, if he isn’t glad to see you. As one can recall how upset the Jews became in 1969 when Crown heights got its first black families, and soon enough a john birtchisism took hold of the chosen seen to this very day. It appears again, nothing is sure in our house of mirrors on sports game shows, as 21 and its discontents of cheating re- everywhere as we play Jeopardy 1999, that Richie Incognito did that most worst thing a Jew can think of, saying what he thought. Shudders from dah Long Island priest of middlebrow! A good Shopaholic like him, between his Nazi textbook appearance, his cad's beady eyes, his ink stained witch act, and the charm usually found in a play of Veronica's veil, hooorahs, da hooraaaaash.... and rolling eyes ta the shavatza who does his due disincline as a kind of cross between Malcolm X and Aunt Jimima, next to him, sure of himself now, was carting Richie often the Coliseum floor as the latest Italian, or anyone, not to know that that nigger on TV is payee by the scowl when he is allowed to break it out. To not underrate the insult to the powerful is the greatest insult of all. Kornheiser, the Queen of BEERS, in his Hamma Glory as judge and jury to anyone not like him, or perhaps too much, called Richie a Neanderthal, a prefecture clever choosing of words, meant and the silence that one could actuality 'hear' from the wings and the goofball wop making copies Ton was audible as much as that pregnant pausing has been encircling has been at that slave ship for a while.


I don't want no scrub
A scrub is a guy that can't get no love from me
Hanging out the passenger side
Of his best friend's ride
Trying to holler at me...
I don't want no scrub
A scrub is a guy that can't get no love from me
Hanging out the passenger side
Of his best friend's ride
Trying to holler at me

It appears that Richie had had enough and like his beaten and broken forbears in Cornelius TACITUS, would rather just go AL Pachino on In Justice for all, and tell them all whet he thinks of them rather than be a good boy and hide in the baseboards which the Jew fathers think pays off more than 3 to 1. Of course, the enclaved words smith, Korney, was affronted by this, again the tweets or whatever sin this was was not this time articulately reported, as do they ever have to be...? And good supposed Jew Tony—sad to think what his parents were thinking, ceratinly not naming him for the gallant Roman general in love with the Egyptian Queen as seen in the un- Shakespeare in the Italian sonnets before fixed by English fags, the original
books loved by my Ma—our cloik Korney was sure this again showed that he as fortune teller was right and that somehow, he could with good conscious sidetrack a man who was doing the bidding of a coaching staff, sorry, who had tired of a soft handed queer who couldnt play any more and had to sue any way out, but pulling back when he managed to inmpicato drop dead G Puoncy who will muss you up, and so that case was dropped by all involved. Frankly for the right to get concussions, take Dog medicine, and be nit picked by him and the nigger daily as a sports entertainment goon, I , as perhaps Richie is, would pass and tell Nero Inc., to take their funeral games and shove it up their millionaire asses. Ah it is that Catiline DNA, where the man in questioning might inescapably go off and tell a truth which makes the niggers and the yids much more acceptable as Imperial stooges despite their three thousand years of Italia experience at yelling at the innocent accuations of any crime, all from purple bunted steps.

Of course our self apportioned nigger saint Mudbone, oh, hell, Ill say it, a smarmy little glassey eyed fat swine named Not Tony Kornheiser, or for developments sake, Micheal Wilbon, another house coon not so or maybe too indoctrinated by Jesuits as to be a lover of B ball, a cheap sport that the Jesuits were using to their advantage, aloing with the threadbare wops before like Democratic politics it as infected into the ghetto land of high and low colored blacks . Of course this allowed for Mudbone to reveal his truff as somthin sold by dee pound dere sur, and he trashed Richie of course, as all manner of things, because you see again, once accused by a nigger, the pets of the passvanate, one must not even be given the right to a defense, which is soothing he preferences be done, As the Chicagoland nigger he is, by men who head hunt and cheap shot and then play loveable curmudgeon until they die or fade away. The fact that the story of Marquis Jonathan, yooooo hoooo. Boyyyyysss ovah here...—again I was a Jesuit student of the first caliber and angry I didn’t get a affirmative action break, yeah fuck you Kitty Genovese, and was expected to actually like READ, for Christs sake, didn’t hold was again meter running as it always is, met with silence, until they could use this, or anything, to show just how thoughtful and wonderfully perceptive they are, on their afternoon Yack, as somehow, not as maybe puzzling as the Jew thinks went off and could take no more and blew his stack, as a good hebe like Kornsier has been living a life of crime, always looking for a clean getaway making his every written word sound like a hostage note. Richie, was pronounced the liar by old mud-bone in his best commie poster yelling mode, sho nuff, though he was the one fingered, which is sad when a colored like him became so domesticated, that he dont understand da basic rules oh da street nno mo, but I stopped believing in Jews and Niggers when dey started coaxing up to the prosecution tables so much, and all the snitches done became graceful and elegant sho as shooting dere, they no longer understand the basic rules of the street game they think they no longer play.


Why did Richie say something egregious to the soft and delicate ears of good house everythings and closet everythings like these two cunts and their wop handler, theres a switch, ...who knows, but I have been too in that situation where I have felt , built again closer to the Neanderthal than the chosen boy with shifty hands and beady eyes, that a chair hurled at a wall says more than a thousand diatribes, or god knows, subpoenas. As I see as the channel of the bridge works has to say something as one bad jobs reportage comes out after another, and so the game of crowns and the stoning of people as personea non gratis starts to get on people’s nerves, as specially some start wondering if not a version of pity as I have they start to wonder exactly why are you , oh wonderful house everything on your last Romans chair, you, second person Machiavellian gambit you, who are you to cast these aspersions as you like to do, as you sidetrack anyone you can as long as your masters voice signs off on it to begin with. If not it remains, like so many slurs and truths merely thought behind conniving eyes.

As I could be a bitch and say I recall our dear friend Rabbi Korensheiser when, as usual, as any woman with dark hair becomes a pariah to him, whatever, Christine Brennen, who he must demeaned as 'auntie' lest she be lisiened to, again with Van Wyck grace, to like the fagot I knew in school, or even Asian girls, he hastes, anyone who remands him of the dark haired Jews, I am sure Nannie told him, as a red headed step child, he was better than by far. Red haired Jews are like blond Italians, and are always like the Milanese, shocked when starched in books by low class English magazine pot boilier writers, who frankly mean nothing to Manzoni read Nino me. See, This fagot queer queen right here, mister tgahead gahead, he was at his usual wonderful me, Catskill salami breathed best, enchanting ways, when surrounded by the Katz deli he calls a audience, he said of a then aging starlet Teri Hatcher, who he wished as he often does being a good doorman like mother Mo that shed just go way already, every sentence when one larned his cadance from watching Professor Kelp can end with a 'enough already' his yiddy credo,  as perhaps Ed Shaunassy or Buddy Grego gives them a cymbal stroke after each line as rim shot in their feeble heads. To be or not to be....pappapappapppapappazcing! That is the question.....Praraumph. Oh he hates anyone that dark haired and pretty, a two bagger if ever there was one, he seems to have made a living ourt of bad mouthing the goys, but especially the not blond ones. this from another unperson who is on daily, sadly enough, and he said of Teri, that when she was set afire in a silly Robert Rodriquez movie, that eh , tinting to hidden closets unseen and make the mind reel, he wished it was true, take that you non blond slut whore! Buy the role of the mother can be so debilitating, no...? SO recall that when these two make their pounces and pleas of testimony and high fallotoing ness, and commune again, as they destroy Richie, nigger and yid, I recall seeing them both in full out ESPN bullshit machine ass dick liking best, when the guy who they just seem to love, Big Gentile Ben cums on, pushing Stan and Guy as local morons away from the satellite feed, remember this kids, the next time these two go all righteous and sanctimonious next time, remember I saw them both suck this miscreant's overused dick, showing again, all ethics in the jock sniffing kingdom are played for laughs.

As again if I may play translator, once more a snhook has been made tragedy by cable television pitchmen bag men, and will never be free here in Graceland, although as good participant of the princpate, ie bribed, their outrage can be scaled back when so told. The growling faces made by Mudbone and others can be, as fake as a plastic mask, be taken off at a moments note. The act of his lover, Tony Kornehoieserf, is so fraudulent that he never much needs to even break a sweat at it unlike his gesticulating nigger ape near him, but then after a lifetime of watching other men bleed for your entertainments, so why bother excreting now as an elderly fake...? He is of the Scorsese land Long Island quotient, found from Yonkers, a good dead end kid grown to dotage, worth the vernacular less Dantean, im sure hed say the word with long drawn out honking stagey middle syllable to show his distain at all things not white, and more like what one saw in Mad, When It was still a comic. Melvins and clods, zeros and putzes are everywhere, as we continue our life in our Leo Goresey tides, calling other men losers and dismissive of them until , alas we are holding on for dear life, as MNF is handed to a Chuckie Doll who players can respect, and who donts seethe with contempt for the lards asses back home, or at least can do it in way that doesn’t make him seem too Jewish for the stage that Howard Cosell built, but that was long ago, in the age of Norman Lear, before Euphemisms set us free. Korbnehsier is true newspapermen shit, the kind Gore said had to be sentenced to writing for the Style section, but unlike Uncle Stan, another exemplar of an America now gone, one gets the suspicion unlike Stan saving byline name Lieber for his true arts that never came, that Tony Tony Tony had an inkling that this was the best he could do. I also heard the day that he went on a diatribe seething with Cassius charm about the then monstrous in all ways book Tuesdays with Morrie, or Mayu-rey as he would say unable to help his Al Feldstien self, as he had had enough about hearing about the jovial Mitch who got up and out of the hells heart in which he spits from, see Caphius, as seen in the divine comedy. Or not.

Signora Fortuna. Like Jesuits and me, she hates the Greeks, the femmy, the weak, and loves the Romans, the tough and the butch.

But the nefarious one is true the bloated bald head Mudbone he is. A self appointed nigger with portfolio, don’t think he is mad enough to ever take the side of you just because you are black, just ask TO, or every Cowboy there ever was. He too wanted the dread Dez to be targeted, for his outrageous behavior, they are good on outrage, the American Hokum of Gore's. As they think they are paid by the spit take and the acclimation point. So now in Graceland he wishes to retard Richie Ingognito, as to make himself feel ever so grand, but I must say here again his greatest accomplishment was another of my hand waved fehs. As he still makes of his degree forom a cow college as it was called snarlingly by Jesuits I knew before the plague, called Northwestern, and there he was taught by low level papal candidate Jesuits, and is proud of this, as it is there a voodoo nigger like him learned a form of cleverenss and ritual of greivemces that the ghetto jacks cant even begin to understand. Prehaps they taught him how to count with his hooves, or some derivation there of, but again, like Stanford, and other places, I can out do this, was was asked to be a student of their true citadel, their Brethren Rhodes like no others, Georgetown, as to the priests, Noter Dame and other places, a few others were nothing but Texas Techs with men in blacks. I again reveal I didn’t go to Georgetown either, I never did anything really, but this was as cowardice on my part, as even by 1979, I had gleend that the priests, were dying at an exorbitant rate and early in life, like something out of Alan Moore and thus, I wanted no party of being too close to these, lets say, doomed souls. So neither nigger Mike nor Jewess fag jokes walking Greenbergh means anything to me, my past is too long and too sordid to fall for anything, as father Nick said, and their outage to me is so much crape paper packed up, two sides, one for the bunting, one for the funeral games they always have.

Do recall kids, as I go on too long about these nothings, but feel compelled to, as Espn, the slave ship, the house of Berman, the gaggle of slot receivers who think they are Deions and Playmakers, which they aint, recall when they deteriorate Richie, that another man sued their proscribed word, Nigger, which the sopranos and forty years of Scorsese I ALLOW MYSELF the dispensation to say, like say South Park, that being a Philadelphia eagle who said it not in a playful coequal texting male bonding, teammate don’t be a pussy token way, back and forfth way, but said it to a mere slub to sue the Korenhsieer tongue, to a mere security guard doing his job and who was blacking his view. Sorry Blocking. But now the fact that redeemed dog killer Vick took racist blond prick Ryhly under his wing ment all was fine with our translators and traitors at the mother ship, which is a misnomer, more like the treehosue of terror as girls aren’t allowed, and only show up as victims, if at all. Ah nigger Sparta, just like the other one, but when push comes to shove the nigger as allays like Sicilians, that the part that bothers them, they always fold up and sue for mercy. Aha, spitting down is the dream of all niggers, something like what the Jews have , but without the bag-man sashes that cause them to both hate and fear the people as they have since numbers were gotten in now dangerous, as he is called, Tacitus.

SO, do Vermeer that laughing trio there not long after Richie had been trashed as the next personae non grata to the cable hacks, button men bellmen all, all willing to tap dance on command and say that which has been written for them, or more importantly not say anything at all and swallow their tounegs in their little boxes. Or little foxes,whatever. Do recall that bloated nigger standing there always in mid gawaf as his ilk has been trained to do, just shucking it up with Roethlisberger, him fresh from his telecast rape allegations. Remember when Richie is destroyed how this lunkhead pin headed Leatherface BEN, how he grabbed his share of Bloomfield pizza waitresses into nubby holes and stairwells, always sure never to leave enough semen for being pinched somehow, as such is the level of circumspection in NEW Sparta. Here, the jock is all, the moronic, who as Pop said, thinks with his hands , he is as in the Soviet union proof of a master race taking its imperial victory lap, better than you peasants, the glaidetaor as god, something to Romans did only for the lowest classes, and which Augustus in his own monetized moments of rage and of high dungeon could rescind at a moments notice, causing the goons and the yellers to go to the front where he could send anyone he liked. I did hear that champion of his race and man of the people, his people, ecapet Dez, Mickey Wilbon, he did say that when someone would call him a 'nigger', this seemingly was a daily occurrence amid the brethren somehow, somehow Northwestern according to him asphalted with bigots and nigger haters, and not romantic fags, he’d think of how to cold cock the man saying it, and get his teeth knocked out, as an animal at heart he thinks with his fists, and too, sucker punches still. You know you could always hurl invective back, like I do, and not resort to ...why bother. Is a love of beatings people up mean Poucey again is forgiven...no I wont forget that again the liar went too far. Do recall as the faces of high yellow consortium bond holders dick suckers of epsn go from high anger to sheepish clientele at the turn of a phrase, how it was that Richie was destroyed and how he spent more time in the suspension than did the quarterback on his Third rape allegation, showing that Americanism is a great parade to be in, once you get the hang of things. Recall that for the self apportioned judge and jury and his jewey Tribune with ladle at the ready to always demean you as dope, a clod, again crash boom bang, his vociferation as you’d expect from a post writer is sprinkled with sound effects, English do you speak it...recall all the stories about Roethlisberger as a man about the decaying town with so many molestations for our hero of the broad jump, how therewith so many stories that an issue devoted to his exploits at Sports Illustrated couldn’t fit it all in, which like the NCAA championship won by a man who likes beating up girls before fucking her, another winner who Tomlin is has sent a count to look up as Stealer material, so do recall all of that. When the dago thug, gee is that word fine now, course I heard it, hummmm, and the fag kid are destroyable by the NFL executive for life, the one who is kept in silhouette when asked his opinion about the fagot wanting in, and the espn self rightous niggers suddenly say now hollllllddd dit dere about some poor black queer who is just going back to the original Rome rules, a flag on the ploy, the niggers speaking of baggage with wispers from the hallways where the mascots roam, as he was found down the hall, remember that to wake me to watch the cleansed leauge,...league how Roman, as that bloated abuser wears his pink shoes and makes us all laugh.

But as the Machiavellian with true Jesuit training and not a degree on –heh, sports journalism, as if, what is that like a Lutrean, shit...I warn as the Roman soothsayer here, beware the dog, caveat Canis, boys, and the next team that takes sanitized and signified Jon Boy Martin, be ware, the Roman mad man announces to you. As having some kind of Capotean ethicist sense about such things, I was watching the game  the dolphins were playing somebody, a Sunday night maybe, was it them Steelers , Cowboys maybe, and JM gave up four sacks in that game, I thinking with Roman heart he was just a bag of shit. But now, carried through life, the white woman and the nigger can never fails-- its always, your fault, as the nun amended me when I stupidly to her said I wanted a degree in white guilt too, why should I read Ovid...?, but didn’t realize then that according to those trashing Richie as being called a honorary black man that the trial of Sacco and Vanzetti is so much undereducated history like the Etruscan. He gave up -4 sacks in that game as I recall and Richie Incognito was, this must be on one of Jaworski's insinuator reels, Richie was brought over to help him out, lest Tannanbamb or Tannehill, or whatever would be splattered. Aha is that it...did he resent that Richie had to help him, ala Burr...did he , goos almost white half breed Stanford nigger resentment over Richie for that. Well, we know he hates Pouncy, sorry again I wonder when he will be cuffed as a beater of sanctimonious Jonnie, again for some reason though that is verboten to be spoke of now. Clean your hovel and gladiatorial barn of the wops who try, you do that, but my warnings come with demanding and depth you don’t get during after noon chat and giggle shows. Oh, remember, fellows, good and not, guys, his next team mates for which he will shoeshine among you for his ability to think with his feet, and his shuffling like a good nigger do, the next four sack game he serves up, you,  Machiavellian second person, might be the next Richie who has to take the fall for someone who has never skinned his knee and refuses to. As Madame Pollozi, as I warned, is now putting out anti Obamacare ads lest she go down for a third time.

If the NFL destroys Richie Incognito while keeping in the players who kill Italian gardeners with all the care and disdain as if run over mailboxes and the lunk head who diddles pizza waitresses in Bloomfield at Primati bros, notice a trend kids..?... You will reap the whirl wind. I haven’t said that since an Irish sour mash buffoon thuggish spittoon lout on cable television thanked god and or Gov. Chris Christie now too soon made as a Parsonage in Soprano hood after much deliberation by toothy faggoty lap dog Dachshunds at the Nation and other unread pamphleteers, and thanked graces that there was a storming of Jersey, cleansing it just in the nick of time. Ewwww, well, having read my share of Roman shit, farce and epic and both and in between I could only know where that was headed, and are you sick of storms yet, all...have the tempest tossed you enough yet as they explain in the lack of jobs money, maybe imperium itself, on a cold front and a frost that wont go away. Who dat think dey can fuck wit Roman Antony...I am the auger.

[For some unknown instinctual reason many of the vernacular of long island and Toni Morrison niggerisms here were taken out by me as I felt it was an insult to both me and the Jesuits I was trying to make amends to. Again's IT , like SHAKESPERE ONLY makes sense in the original Italian. ]