11 January 2015

THE CHRISTMAS PARADED.

THE SATURNALIA DIARY PART II.







I WAS WELLING UP with some sort of angst as I had only when having to sue steroids a few years ago for some problem, which can turn one into a babbling idiot and a growling beast, and which as Costa’s knew and was told can cause the help to have number that the white trash ownership of the gulag of sports don’t want to have to sign checks fer. Still, I was snagged by some nail in the wind that seemed to scratch me well, and something was specifically wrung in  me, I could tell, as a face pounded with a jaw out of place less and I was off put through much of the Roman season of Saturn, which has survived every incoming Semite who saw Italay as a clean and open place to start franchising their banking gods of the desert thieves.

I and my brother had driven to buy the Christmas dinner and food I thought smartly early in the month and thus get it all done and over with, as it is amazing when can get sold in a nation in which the biggest chicken inspector  is Obama and we pout and preen about what socialists we are as like Clinton, we make deals with wal mart up until election year, when we have to dump our stock. As we went up the long incline towards the super marks kept fart up from the tenements as is done, a black escalade but in rusty disrepair, pulled out before us. Out of the car, at the light,  intriguingly enough as had recently met Victoria Zaza, the girl in the guys and dolls outfit of a bell ringer, I saw a long lovely brunette get out of the nigga riche car, followed by a few others and a black man who looked like Michael Vick, down to a van dyke suddenly they wear as no one else’s. I sat at this light, and it changed, but my brother, not as say polite as I, was upset  that this clown car seemed to have one person after another get out of it to be let off at a light, and they didna have the etiquette, I guess, demands, go off to the side. Cumon, he said angrily what the fuck is this… a parade…?, he said, not loudly , but not sotto voce either, and then, the first girl turned towards me.




I at first had an inkling of recall, I knew this face from somewhere, but it was not as I would recall and her dark hair as placed in what I believe is called a scrunchy, in way more about ease than any hairdo. It was the tall busty brunette girl who I has seen a few years back, who was on the stoop speaking to the others when the house across the way as a crack house, or at least disreputable, and which is I believe vacant now. It was the pretty girl I noted through the window, she seeing me stare at her blew me a kiss, whose image I recalled there a few times eventually speaking to her as a waited and trag—accidentally spotted her come out of her house as I stayed a sentry , I was cooling down, on the porch in summer. It w was she, I knew that much, and she waived at me, openly, though haven’t seen her in the last few years,  as I am a sort who is a perpetual acquaintance, I guessed, and got the guy there at the wheel to honk at us as we went by, and she had a sad recollection on her face, a bit more lest say stout but not egregiously so as she was when an angel of the corner nigger fiancé, slumlorded steerageways.

I felt badly as my brother zoomed past, who the fuck are these assholes, he asked, and didn’t beep back as he had never seen them before, and had no idea who this girl was in the long list of failed Beatrice’s I have had. We went in words the Giant Eagle, which I hate, as despite their being far situated from the slums, still, they had a reputation last year of giving people the flu to the pivot that they finally placed a box of Obama like purell wipes at the door, where they weren’t before. But the image of the porch girl, like in the Roman books I write, and which she helped me get that AR finally at least somewhat done, as she played Turna the goddess of war for me, and too, was an example of the vestal virgin more healthy and robust and coven sister to Lesley like Gracie, it made me feel bad as here was another girl I had insert in and somehow couldn’t really follow through with, or hopefully on, as back when was still in the throws of a now gone displeasure at the outdoors, which all ran away and was deflated the moment I saw a torched bared for gal from st. peets no less, make a point about a book I had piled at some post, along with herd her friends from that hell hole wop school, and I knew I was too romantic than is healthy, and let that all go. I felt badly that she hadn’t become any thing much more than the usual pin up girls of my mind, out there somewhere as Coriolanus would say, and I let that whole act die off when heard that Lynn was as upset by my book as was the white woman editor who screeched in anger and soon to be lost middlebrow decency that I has said I was writing a book about Catholic school, and not playing it for any white woman laughs. We rode on and I felt again another stone placed on Libra scales as its mend I was carrying the goddamn statue up a hill.


*****


I made cookies for an elderly MA, who was too tired for making that kind of sugarless bread cookies Italians like and which Becky put down, but then Ma said, only the sour Germans have to lay the sugar on thick, as they are a horrid people sour in their centers and thus their teeth do not ache when eating that much plopped in frosting, The Romans and Italians before never feared or hated the earth as do the Klansmen grandkids now, but they did hate the idea of a overgrown forest, without a road or a temple or  signature of man, as that was first a fire hazard they knew that much, and  too, the woodland fairies there would be over taken by the monsters, literally men of the mountain,  if the trees were allowed to go grown exponentially , as the next meteor to brining in a Tasus, the Tuscan boy wizard god if hit and earth like Germany where was nothing but trees would , as was in the Etruscan myths cause a fire for which the great flood was Vulcan melting the ice caps of a north pole they mentioned as did Ovid, lest the world become a cinder and a glowing rock. All in all, a good way to gauge things. I catched a treasure trove of gold from the vaults at Disney now having been sold to Turner for showing, even the dared Uncle Remus, as we may not pester our passvanate with anything, truth being Cicero’s first casualty, as you never know when the southern shit is already or acceptable or and when not, as we must be deferential to our passvantes or at least their porters and bag men, while the looting and now the homicides go on. The Arab Negro street is quieted and three named naggers and Sharptoon had bin shushed up, as a Italian mayor for the thousandth time in herstory, the Jews not the Romans feared goddesses tell that to Glenda as he explains how a Roman goddess with a halo is somehow a biblical image, oh God please, aim better, not to be mean, but move that thunderbolt a bit to the right, Jove… get the business over the thrash must corral, Roman no…?





I attended to these Disney unearthed relics, sadly, as If Raphael in the candlelit chapel alone at night, sights of an America now going, they seem actually more modern , like the Romans, than shit being own now by Jews on command or which they placed in vaults without even a reassess date. Ahoy, there is Deon and Mooche, and the Dallas Cowboys have won the east, might be on track for a bye and home games having whipped Seattle before they accepted the boy wonder as the white boy he wishes to be, that will come apart. The Cowboys won the east…a gorgeous Italic woman with black hair and a Sabine helmet and in gowns sheer and speckled with blood, as she knows how to sue a knife as all brunettes did, either waits for me at the Springdale cut off, or better, strikes back from the floating stone of the Etruscan Gods, the upside down Olympus that the ways better at seeing what was real Italics rather than dower Greeks whose Ptolemaic universe was something Columbus destroyed, and thus would pay for more than for any savages caught up in the nets of history, in which the Sicilians were fine to be fished, as Jews and blacks and of course redskins may not. The Sinorina of fortune to the black bag men and the white girls and the beat Dallas sign seemingly admired by iconic liberal schnook Lisa Simpson appears to be argued with after all, equally at park avenue when seeing the latest ratings of the Christmas special called the Cowboys, and the Brunette goddess that perhaps could have sold more units than the darned and fat back blond bitch strikes back!




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06 January 2015

SAVED PAGES OF MS.
















02 January 2015

BANDSTAND!






THE SATURNALIA DIARY
PART I.



Oh it is a small thing, and therefore irrefutably important, but in a comic book I bought out of a bin to steal as Asian look of frozen people as if caught in frames taken out of a larger movie I saw a joke mine from Mister Stupendous used and done there.

In this trash, even the frozen art can’t save it, whatever is in the cape of superman now is upstaging to un Camilla like Diana, and he calls her maam. He, despite being shown with a humorless sneer, like oh, lets say Oliver North and the Captain Nice have a child, she says almost hurtfully Maam and takes um-bridge at this. Why this worked in my MS, was that again, the wonder woman echoes had been retaken by me handy here, and instead of her being the brunette hillbilly chick from dog patch was still a cat woman like creature having been bought by Jewish yenta comic book wonder Silvia who wanted a brunette and a criminal as her heroine as a bulwark against the blond costs, the Barbie dollifacietion of women that somehow the pare sniffing Brenda Starrs, like say Jameis Winston always leave be. This bothered me because it was just another example of my stuff being strip mined by puerperal thirteen year old comics hacks, who think they are deep, but too, because the invariable earnestness of my heroes, they all make a line directly from Hercules, is something that would make the Moonbeams and cat women I save and gifted Manzoni like moments of conversion to, immediately suspect, but find beguiling. In Dc World, that amusing less attribute so underpins the world, all worlds are just beats between  Marveled like punch fests. It bothered me. Like how I knew that when Negroaleia, and torture were all being mentioned as if a unwinding Rossellini third act, I knew that not only do the decadents find their ethics, especially when out of power, but too, figured as I said, the phone calls were coming cause it meant that Barry only had a few days left before he had to start, like the big Ten, cutting up the pie even more among those foisted upon him.

For a Christmas gift, I received a copy of collected Shazam stories, though I am unsure whether the original is still allowed to be called Captain Marvel, a name encapsulating all of comic by an Italian comic book maven, and this as usual meaningless in the Yeshiva of Jack and Stan and their creative furriers called Marvel. I was appalled that some pompous comic rag, that they had made the only superhero to make a list of best cartoons of the century unknown to a editor at a comic pissure who seemed to take umbrage at my open distaste for gentleman, King of second ave. Jack, as they all have open minds until, as the priests warned me, you don’t agree with them. I was shocked at how awful even in the cartooning this was, as famed Coroner artist Jim Lee, who brought the Cyril Wheht charm into comics not there before, had redesigned everyone at dc to ware the same counseled approved uniform, like the NFL decrees sox must be at the same length, lest the white overseers lose a scotch of power, its always been the same con. Captain marvel, a name,  like most things by an Italian eagerly mutable by Jewish attunes for the white interlopers,  Billy’s early costume from depression circus days, deigned by a real artist, who drew for Movie magazines and popular mechanics an thus knew who things worked in the third demention as Jackie never got the hang of, was as flawless as a cowboy football outfit, now the lignin bolt, as perfect as signature as ever seen, has been made black, you know, deep and dark and cool. Yeck.

But I knew that Saturnalia was going to revert to its form, and I knew Negroalaia was a con, just like this new Captain Marvel was, as when the walking dead Negros all get to have adored where they cross fifth avenue, shaded with seiu signs printed for them, following the outlines of footprints made a formula on the pavement, I know, like Machiavelli said, nothing of what is true, but all which is fake, and advent even bothered to finish the book, as in the day of breaking bad and Sopranos, AFTER A WHILE, AGAIN TO SUE THE ROMAN AFFECTATION, the dark and the venial and the cloudy and the mean just starts you to miss the apostolic Sun. If any world could sue a Captain Marvel, god knows it is this one and instead we got fag writers telling a man of a combination of Greek and Roman Gods, that he’d better then watch himself when dealing with the vengeful plutocrats, as should we all, still, it is a bit jarring to hear a demy god that Cresses is somehow better than he, which is high talk coming from someone who always seemed to me since Adam West winked at the lens to be one pop in from Children and youth services away from jail. Its bad enough to have wards of the empire state and a line of them as help mates in the cave, but to make boys fight crime is something that the Jews of the depression saw as no bog whoop. Still it bothered me to see this line, a s it did the maam stuff, as the new 52 is a pick-up I haven’t fallen for as I did as a boy for the first by a dark arabesque Sicilian cousin named Luigi, as like you all, whose snorting laughter made my father roll his giant apricot eyes at Italic minstrelsy. The idea of a god man having to be lectured by a billionaire whose and America we inhabit now where even magical lightning can be bought and sold and that made me sad, as the childhood never ends in a empire. That’s Cicero’s line, that the sun was still as late as Caesar a truest God, and December 25 is and was his day.


****


2. I don’t take the Torture debate seriously as was told by Jesuit priests anything which has the word American as a qualifier in front of it is atomically moot and meaningless. This to me, despite Glengarry Glen Beck, a lovely turn of a phrase if I might which caused a cascade of thirty ! Response in a day when occupy Negro heralds  were out trilling for anyone they could demean for fun and profit, mostly profit, having trashed SACCO AND VANZETTI as a good house wop as he must, keep on praying hard Glenn maybe these inclinations will final set you free, idiot, this is toll the land of SANDV as I was warned. I won’t roll my eyes like jewie Jonnie or laugh it up, or explain who drone re good food as does the using smirked Olbermann doppelganger without the warmth, has to again expose as his screed about liberalism between the same GE Turbine compiles that are shown willingly on Billow.

This county is to me then the same that dropped an atom bomb, unlike evil Nazis your much more indiscriminate human combustion means nothing, like so much to be dire if notched at all,… and paced others in jail for beating up Jews as it made a precedent as the Romans would say that their fire is scarified and even holy and you is an arsonist, a credo my father tried to warn me about. This is the land of not only Sacco or Sacchia, as Glenda said, mister Corrrleon, and this is the land of wounded knee and ANZIO as again these good white women and their colored boy chicks who can take the weight always hush up when need be which by now, we have all seen at work. The naggers were given free freight as long s not coming that close to thirty Rock and Tina Fay’s officio again, walks this ay, Rufus, if I could walk that ay I wouldn’t need the ointment, anyhow, they ere all gathered together with Federations and seiu we haven’t heard from these Jews in a while, and told to be the walking dead and cross fifth avenue again with one of their parolees. This as not by accident as Sharptoon is a steal at these prices, but you get heat for you pay for, as they were all shuffling off to buffalo, who did that greatest quarterback ever do there again, heh, as the senate, true to its once honorable  name, was opine for badness,. Yes this very day that the heifers were all send out to chant on cuie and be human shields in our Arab street, Jewish shopkeepers like Mister Macy shoeing deem along, that while this march was going on, the senate was really and busily trying to get with white house apogeal as open as its ever been, a Trojan horse is beneath a Roman’s contempt, that’s Virgil, to actually ten times the amount of Moneta that the princes would get from their puppeteers. Ten times, you know, Decimation. 



They did their act, but again at slashed prices, the GE doges get what they pay for, and the seiu has never been the best atoners, and so someone ruefully, from tended daily shows, pre chance, got an I phone video, how upper percentile, of the struggling dragooned and shiftless naggers den their white women consorts screeching to kill and wanting dead cops, you know, unless anyone touches my shit. Like how on Keith’s page someone wanted these cops to be given the gas chamber for shooting some Negro thug, ah look everyone sometimes remembers grandpas days when Dillinger was criminal before Cupola got the ceilings commission. Now that as America, showing again, unlike the Jesuits who believe this shit, the good liberals of undergrad radicalism just wait for the whip, to Machiavelli, be theirs, and keep Gramps hegemony in tact. The good Negros and Jews and white trash fatties all screeds for dead cops, those unions of bread free at the table is more powerful in any blue state like this than any teachers union, that’s fer god damn sure, and soon enough Jonnie shall have to apologia through his Mary Taylor Made scat of gesticulations all over again. But we came awfully dangerously close to Jewie Jonnie actually realizing something, though any distempered of his at his masters was couched in his usual jewie slur against Lady of the house Grammenstary who has yet to be welcomed back as was Mac Kane who allowed the good white women to feel wholesome and sweet and decent as the doom bots flit, taking out whole villages without a Morley to catalog any of it, the Arabs get what they revert they are evil you know, and they can all feel sp0elt righteous the Jewish elixir to all ailments, sold at a mark up in little palatial bottles which used to hold camphor oil.

Funny and not unreliably, the only unsurpassable thing in America is to hold a beef, as Glenn Gerry Glenn Beck now pours out apologies to anyone he irked and thus now wont buy his cartoons, the good Negros and the liberal hacks have been pouting it on real thick lately, as they would, with a ominous bill lurking in the dawn’s, waiting to be voted on as now, passion is catching, and they all vote present now, Aye says Mister Mackane. The jumping on every little thing as if a mass of requiem, every Negro with their ads, sorry hands,  up as a form of portent allowed by unnerving and unenviable bosses at park avenue who should have , as I warded lest that gladiatorial poet better left alone, the demand for dead cops, as now the Jew York times sees the saturnalia masses as slithered grievous and rag take no ones s you were always headed when the west end Jewish circus owners dint need you any more, was diamond and dismissed as so much undergrad hooey, enemies now that Crom, the barbarous god, has given his name to once Roman legislation, showing I was right all along again.

Call as you would, nepos, all for gas chambering cops, incite the immigrants, the filth, now even a Pope appears who has made deals with spic potentates before, and Cuba no less is brought up brazening up imagery of Jewish gangsters in Havana that Copula had to fight to get in, again should have showed him where he as heading bait alas a lovely fuck you by a comic book writer named Puzo who half way through was what was being done to his work, although Copula’s Jewry Pollock’s cartels did their best to make it seem that somehow Puso lauded as a writer for books, you’ll  never read, was a potboiler artiste  hack who needed Milo Aurellius Copula in the Tony verse of perpetual 1970, to bring is work a barreled heft of operation that but now have become almost an irritant to the who soon enough grabbed and gloomed onto Scorsese as Lamebrain Dante. A week of thrice digits losses on wall street, why they all went away even though the news got worse, with soon enough con, the bill passed on an incited saturnalia Saturday, again while Negros were dutifully sentimental for fires set before, a revolution that cant come as long as you have been cast in your parts by GE, as they search for FBI informants willing to take a bow, screeching in our eras fighting with Bing and David’s once sweet brotherhood with calls to kill the last few democrats left in the west bank America has become.  These are they who Ed Shultz trued to reached amid the dragon ladies and Irish goons, why, the stock market revived as it were, just when the papers older than any plebiscite now needing to be crated as if a white flag by the coon who likes his things nice and white, and now all was fine again. Oh give us some figgy pudding, of give us some figgy pudding oh give us some figgy pudding and bring it out here.



*****


Out in the drizzle of the perpetual showers of Barry, I went to the local sad Target and others treks, seeing a depressive gloom, admit is frigid without being invigorating, wet without being snow, December without it being Christmas, I saw the slick roads of rain, a freeing rain you see that have not been turned to a winter holiday vista as would befit any Christmas that isn’t like the drag tame Negroalias that party of Boy Barry ahs to preened he is black too, in which to live out his doorman credo. I think the good occupy fucks, frauds and without papers student rad all, the kind that a true radical, it is such a shame to w aster a Roman word on them, like these senators, Pier Passolini described as the mommies boys of Turin who threw their pencils and appeals at stout southern  Sicilian types cops in Italay, ah we return again to the mother country that started this all, the affirmed sissies of commie pink Milan us using the beefcake of Greek and Roman Naples to save its Jews and its fiat clerks money from being too stolen. Again all is Italian with too much vinegar added, as they try and strain to find a Negro worthy of carrying blood shirts through eth streets, both Roman and Jesse Jackson, are truing to goad me.


A reader email shows up from Rachel Maddow page from Google, this day to assign me to pile on Antonin Scalia , as heard in her coven, as he says basically what the Jewish seat said there said, that the constitution is not a suicide note, but everything scribble here sounds better in Yiddish than Latin. Not to go pre law hunnies and your white women consorts and ladies in waiting and thus make their brains hurt, but dear, its the same qualifier that you and your Negro sued to allowed for extra constitutional power and sissy war be done by drones, so just remember when you said there and place it here, weathers you’d like to or not. What should I say…? That maybe like me, his parents told him what had happen at Anzio, too…? I recall hearing form old polish and Italian nuns what the gross northern barbarism came to town with back in that good are that Slobbering Prairie Livy Brokejaw’s catalogs. Aging, creasing, desperate for slathered on goodness, the tortured debate was a shmere that should have told us that the next bill as going to be a doozey, and you’ll like it, white girls as this is the closeted to being fucked over as you’ll ever get. Take your viciousness somewhere else kids, I know who and what you are and so, go check on the fox neediness ticker, none of you steady enough to believe that Ms. NBC business bullshit. Hands up don’t shoot…? It seems to be the credo of your senate. The Target was cavernous seeming, barely peopled, a sad sled and cartoon reindeer flying in stringed throaty swaying inaction above the tin pots and the percolators.  Christmas hasn’t been the same since the good socialist Dido nationalized the banks and handed everything to the borgias, which befits the nations that went off the cliff while it as laughing at the jersey shore.

****

A herald the bells of the Salvation Army. The white women, already, like Negroes in the woodpiles; brim wonderful pried red baskets full of crap past the navy Diana Pricne outfitted looking army gal wotrthy of Dish in Altmans MASH, looking woman girl who was manning the bell and the drum. I looked again, as a lovely figure was in black against the haze and the twinkling lights as shopping season hadn’t been the same since they outlawed lead. I walked up and saw the vortex of imagery and sensuality and a atomic cloud of soap smell and sexuality there around this pretty girl, that's English for Brunette, they can be no more than that, but in away the domination is a mark of honor as all diminutions re. She was lovely, as the word is meant, someone you’d could love and not just fuck, as the vulgarizing and eth vulgates of chimes at midnight and Orson’s beloved blowhard are the homer of English.

She smiled and seemed graceful, with a couple of black commas of hair at her cheeks falling from the cap, a lovely body trapped in tight cotton, unmeant to be sexual impicato closeted, a pair of white gloves ringing a golden bell that looked pot marked and old, arrant we all, and puffy lips of natural pink hue as would be seen on a penthouse pert when I was a kid. I knew I was in the space of something much like a deleted scene out of a play I had written called saturnalia, I mean how many times can I call the house Negros pets of the rich, can we talk about me now, finally…?, as the pert pretty woman stood there, more dutifully than friendly saying a perfunctory Thank you, Kindly, to anyone dropping any thin dime, if that much, in the chipped and beaten and old tripod to culled coins. Its is a savage world now, I thought, as Jews at Sony start to fear HACKERS which If I may be Machiavellian I suspect is a hoax gone too far, as after Seth Regina was punning with unknown comic Colbert about to fall off big won cliff, things became imminent almost minuets after he yucked it up, as he is no Green Hornet, but is every buddy of mine from art school rolled into one… without the warmth. And Franco,…the Italian that you all deserve. There at the Cineplex nearby was the poster for this film, in which , as it was meant the horrid Jew was standing in front of the Italian Jonnie Deppish Boy chick actual star of the film, causing like Scoresay  did last saturnalia, which snit what it sued to be as they run out of Hobbit shit, this as a affront to the gods of cinema, who would not let this stand, and after all, it is a  post Donald Sterling world now, where all is slur at least until you get the bill. 


I stood there a bit taken with the brunette lovely, as looked off into the smokes coming out seemingly more than ever from stacks I thought were cold and unsaved, and she rang her bells with a jerking action that I must admit, discraziato I am, I found well, echoing something else’s. A large faced blond man came up behind me playfully, from another cheap store I frequent to make the goldmine sacks lighter and have told all the bourgeoning poor now to leap to the dollar stores nearby, and make their coffers dry as I did to various filmmaker kids, who see that the dollar store is a Walt Disney studios on the cheap, where one can get things for almost nothing from max factor make up to clay to arts supplies, all a loss leader for instructed ver shivitzed Jews  who were sure that the golden age was supposed to go like this, but have eschewed the Roman sonnets to their detriment, yet again.  He smiled and tapped me on the shoulder, and said, Boy it’s a sin I think to look at the ass of a salvation army Girl, bra…I was stunned, still as he laughed and walked on wards, as  sales on microwaves and other appliances that are now a loss leader to a consortium who found its true largess comes from war. I strutted around as my brother whisked past me to play the lottery for my ma, and I was standing there in the rain, but trying to catch a gymslips of this Minerva amid the Christian hoo hah, again mirroring a Christimas card I drew and as sent to friends, before gave up, as some white woman was offended by this, as have on the refrains of Hollywood gotten xmas wishes from those who aridly sneered at me as a uncooperative stooge and or dilettante and a nudnik, as the Jews again save saturnalia from the christers, as that is the only day that Fox and its Jewish saint of golden turkeys seems to think that Christi, which means Golden child in Greek, The Chistae being the golden lion that is now of st mark of the Etruscan, Alsalan anyone…?,  and who appears or might not eighty years before the crucifixion in Virgil, what doesn’t,…?, is the only day we aren’t allowed to be capitalists,  which again is a serve which defines the rest of the argument, something I thought Jews would been taught as mooch, sorry much, of more than mere titty wonder girls drawing I. 




****





This was echoing strains of Saturnalia, the play I had written for a channel thinking it would be eyeing with Hallmark, once a name of drama televised literature, in that gone America,  and great cold war literature made drama, now a woman’s channel, who were not amused when I sent them a play about Christians touching on Negro victims that like those on the dirty ware supplanted by a future Pope, go unspoken of at candela light vigils amid the Macys one day sales, but not too close. Also was akin to some Guys and dolls like stuff which I saw an original with Robert  Alda on stage as a kid in a kinescope, which as infuriatingly better than anything that Sinatra was in, as Sinatra had one act which amazingly couldn’t do well enough to bring Nathan Detroit to life, though I am not a wop who feels it a need and a go to this Sinatra as the animator of blue eyes soul in ways he will never be given the credit.




I saw images here of the English actress as in GAD, with me as more of a Nicely nicely than any Sky Masterson, yet felt obligated as more of a lemon drop kid than either to give it a go amid ten silver bells all made of tin foil and again without the color the only lead as the Romans knew despite anything said by lovely half breed scientist Neal Tyson, salute, could get. I took out a hand full of silver change and went to the basket to apple it in. Here you are Madam, I said, said, again sad about my joke having been sued in that wasteland called dc. Thank you said, again Blue eyes gleaming, as the blue eyed Brunettes is the Beatrice we all seek, and have instead one fish wives brown eyed blond after the next. Thanks a lot Dude, she said, with a countenance hardly the Simmons she frankly minored or was that the suit…? Ts how the wallet girl is one of my biggest archetypes, I roots out some crimpled dollar bills and shoved them at the cross at the top of the red bucket, as oaf caught unawares and had no line to say. Hello I said, cringing at this, as couldn’t move forwards. Boy you are generous. Oh I was by now spilling all sorts of things, excretally,…anyway, I was taken with how pretty this lass was. Here, she said, would you, sir,  like to make a prayer request, Ill write it down and it will be prayed for back at HQ. Sure I said, taking a small billfold with slips of yellowish lined papers and a pen, and wrote on my hand in worse than usual chicken scratch, My name is Tony. Please pray that I somehow get my Say--Sundance had yet to tell me to resubmit in their next bills hit act, and they look forwards to seeing my work, if not my check again. She read it, My say... she asked…what does that mean. I wasnt sure, it just seemed what someone should pray for me as I had too much of everything else’s. At the bottom I write a number to a low end track phone which is mine. And thus she said with a smile. It’s my number. I’m sure she had gotten hit on before just not at this local, the range near her bells among other things.

She smiled; sometime girls take my oafish aplomb as a nice gesture amid the beer drinkers and the closet queens who spurt them as I can sometimes pass for charming. She took the page , sweetly, though I was braced for the kind of hatred of sex which is a Metternich repository within the women who learned lesbian tactics with Carlos the jackal back when, and who as I said, hated Naples much less African citte more recently then their black squires are alerted. Heh.  She took the paper and ripped in two, tossing the prayer notice into a cage like packed and the phone number into her left breast shirt pocket instead of the woolen coat. Ill take carte of both at them she said with a Gumby smile. Happy saturnalia, one and all, I said, to a black hair girl’s face, although that word is not the anathema Roman things are as even the Hitler channel now amidst to its origin of Christmas time as they show the Romans belly dance, which shows a hated arabesque and yet still a beauty they don’t like the Italians to show even though Percales admitted they were a pretty race, The prettiness of the Sabine women was noted even by the fagots of empire like the Greek writers allowed to catalog the Romans, in which a way as to allow the always resentful and yet self righteous dragon gals to quote Plutarch, something more apt for women and National security state haberdashers than ever Roman Me. But as yors do not scalp as did their more noble savagery.

Still, back before then,  I was given the chance to write a Christmas film of the spoof I made but seriously, that were played on loops for fat and ugly girls, sometimes chock full with Brunettes, as the idea of a blond finding love at Christmas is too much for the lonely gals to bear, which shows what is true the rest of the year, and instead of the boy meets girl shit open sees way hallmark did, I did write a play about Jonnie Gammage, a name that is inhuman and unspoken by always available for bar mitzvahs and car openings and kids parties Sharptoon, who now is court stenographer of Ebonics to the prissy Pharaoh queen nefrititi we are stocked with as he collects his bribes. I was explaining this and as usual for Roman me, was getting an audience of some wives to get the car and their lunkhead hubbies to come get them and the toaster ovens they had bought, as sad colored cheap tattered paper coils came up out of linen bags. That was the play and too, I told the girl not wanting to walk away, and Kordell Stewart, and the fact that an America was now devouring itself alive as if a snake in Tuscan walls, was juts fine with the diminution of the people of the Roman republic and the Sicilian school and so how this bothers no weathermen underground or not, or at least sports score readers like Olbermann. I did hear that things are so tight that MSNBC may be sold to Fox, ha!, but as sports channel ad bread and circus is always the way to go. Or as I advised, Cartoons, and not that cartoon channel new shit, but the good stuff, Hanna Barbara, termite terrace, stuff you keep in the faults that the Romans eventually only sued for money, which as sad when all their genius was burned by Germanic torches that still Glenn Beck thinks is a  light to read by.

I explained this to the more affable brunette onward Christian soldier than I would have thought as Father Christmases were everywhere today in loose fitting cheap clothing mirroring again a Christmas card I gave out. This Was my say I told her, she told me her name was Victoria, and we spoke as not too many people were in any mood to through a few pennies into the red pot. But true to my Roman ethic had collected enough eyes to throw a little something into the kick. 


I’ll see what I can do, she said, playfully, but sincerely as the Salvation army is an iron clad organization above even the vicissitudes of killer fruits wishing to take down everything when not writing their own vows, as in an nation this clerked by Jews, it is never shocking to me when the sanctimonies and the self righteous not only turn mute, but even lame, as Bourgeoisie, like dark money is a word play like abasing against drones at at any money, sorry moment,  the phone call comes in from 30 rock, that the yellers as a they’d did at the ruins of Turkey, Anatolia still selling itself as Italay without joy, can always tern lame. As I through infatuation, tossed another crumbled dollar in the pout and she sweetly waved at me as I walked on to keep up with a always marching always late for an appointment seeming brother who no nonsense again walked past me with the implied warning to keep up. He plays the last 3 numbers I get in the collected views of a FISSION EXPOSITION called Google plus, and we have actually hit a few times us using this method, as much a saturnalia miracle as any.



Two days later a sweet half Italian vogue cover caliber am not kidding voice called me on the unused home line used only a strange keeping in touch by frozen queen’s phone, and invited me to a holiday party where the poor and the uselessness shall gather for some festive cheer, showing again, if you make a point that Christmas is nit abort boxes and gifts it means you probably have too much, and thus like a good white woman mist lay it on thick. I accepted, as pining for dream girls seems after a while to be a fools errand and I could undress this nun of sorts with my eyes, eye strained to do this to novices I saved from the Boccaccio dens of inequity called covens, eventually got me to places and stories which I wont go into here, but which trained me well in such a different errand as mere torch holding.


I expected to go to a near by but still a shelp black church, or poor church, not the one here with the strange black tinted and yet gothic and strangely beautiful hand painted salvation army glass windows, given to the black church by Father Fiscus, when the mafia and the Negros saw themselves as having common cause, before the Jews and their insuffeability always horned in to give us what we are allowed to say amid the circus uses they put on ignescent like. I agreed and spoke to an amazingly amiable and not off put Victoria,  and packed some dollar store trinkets ina  box gotten for free from the post office and shall Go, as My mother avowed me If I didn’t, as believe it or not I can ware on people, showily not be friendly to this lovely girl or make her another Beatrizia, as smoke and fog, derisive and pine for someone in the dark again, we will be having stewed pig and grapes for Christmas  which I know like Shakespeare makes more sense and means more in the original Italian. Stewed pig means tripe, and tripe on Natale, the mass that the Jews and Latrens speak of is an Anglican affection sorry, mean what it seems like. Happy Christmas, to Fuck  Groucho and fuck the God you rode in to the festival on ,seeing Jews enjoying themselves as heinous while signing off on boy fucker Tyberius for whom every day was saturnalia, just because once again Jewey Christy like yentas and Johnnie need the Arabs killed by someone anything drones, hicks, anything but them, well, f off Glenn beck and your love of Jewish shit, and speaking of humility with hippy dippy weatherman rabbis whose forebears convinced themselves  they were chosen of an enviable God, happy saturnalia, to all, and all motion is relieve, pray boy, and maybe you’ll never find that grandfather immigrant ever again as have crossed a rive  less like the lathe and more like Marc Twain. Not a compliment.

*****

3. The Advent of this soggy sad year was telling, as they will do any three week drama and then drop it lest the people realize that amid the commie pinkeos and the GE liberals, that Jamie Legs Diamond was calling senators, you know like you can do , demanded that a lame duck session give him what he wants as the other commercial thereto of three point drops on wall street where the Jewish to being spun. Those drops stopped almost concurrent with the legislation of course, unshorn unheralded signing of the bill, ah we wont be getting that final solution where Moriarty and Sherlock, thus case Barry And the Auto pen grapple atop London rooftops, a s hell sign anything, easier than having to turn on the mechanized him, which he might have been all along. Two days after the SF 49ers were put of the playoffs, and Harbaugh  was off to Michigan with his crazy eyed devotion, it seems the Jesuits who run the nfl were doing some house cleaning and cut Ray MacDonald, Negro brunette beater, as he may have slipped again, and with no playoffs to worry about became, as they all are expendable, but remember don’t call them gladiators as New Rome has become New Judea and thus the doges must be self righteous and circumscribed and screed as they steal enough to make the cap on wages, like the dark money mere platitudinal bullshit said and screamed by Negros until they go too afire and are called splintered by Jews at the Times for demanding cops be killed, we are at the largest chasm ever. It’s hard out there for a pimp. As I sent this first diary entry into some criags list like ad, and received the word back that I might have something here, don’t I always, and a book could be amended out of it, but then I think, no, I’m not stupid enough to go through that again.

Frankly am not as willing to bookmaker my life anymore, as Barry and his reign of error is over, he will be paid back for his screeched phone calls to lamest ducks, get that’s next tarp, thank God Jewey jonnie the American tear duct is going on vacation and the Jews celebrate Romans Saturnalia again, abet with contempt, but checking the sales, and Pocahontas will be told by fleet street we have had our fills of at least Blond Wendy’s doing their Mister Smith shtick, and the idea of a noble senate standing in the way of anything is far too fall of a republic, and so ten years ago, as an always detestable and racketeering Livia- Hillary strained to expunge her lists of speaking engagements lest it look like the fortunes 4oo, after all. I think as diy is everywhere, deep down I am at last respected for a  strange adherence to the ole days when publishing and Hollywood meant something, like the comic book editor making a point to thank me, I am after all Jesuit trained and thus polite, an don’t feel the need to like many who dislike me, am not always at def com 4, always escalating, as some gal in new York told me, them slush piles they sued to dammn and disparage are slipping away, as their hegemony as arbiters of taste, and peseta of academy are weaning, perhaps soon to be gone, as anyone can upload to You Tube, and come back a star. Not the way I recall it though.

A herstory professor was pilloried on fox news as cable stations are now great at demanding average citizens, you know,  who cant pay the freight, as I wondered when the trash of empire, the grass roost of Machiavelli,  not a compliment, became so flicking above reproach. When did Negros and their arch enemy white trash, become so damn important. Ah when that 93 cents of every dollar was siphoned off by their Negro doorman at the golden door. We live in a gush of pabulum and now even a Fredo of a communist backwater thinks he has the right to put the always scared Jews into the corner where they feel most at home. 




*****

Five days before the feast of the indomitable sun, which kingdoms may come and go and caliphates may ebb and wane, but the Romans feast shall always stay, two poor cops were killed execution style by a wayward Negro who like the joker fool believed the shit speared by masters with jokes to caregiver washrooms. They think their reevaluations since brought to us and funded by these same peacocks that gives us live Peter Pan at the holidays are as vapid and as meaningless and as hollow as are they. I am not a FBI informant who found better living through the alchemy of preening my revolt between turbine commercials of a company of war for which lesbian’s parakeet and Negro carrying on is all a loss leader. Ah, two sops execution style in our soprano world, and Negro being Negros and not Romans, this coon kills an Asian and a Hispanic, just to show the Freudian aspects of what blotches the coons most is being left behind, as more immigrants seem more taken with the Italians model, fuck the sopranos or the sanctimony of the injuns as Snyder just won in courts wowing Ill be seeing you to the Jesuits meant at the steps of halls of justice where blind Roman goddesses never left. And less with being courted to by coons who  scan the room for that last act of a degenerate Chin.

The brown note was hit, when all the coons shit they pants as the talk of fevered revolution ghost incite farther than they had wished as soundly, the usual suspects are no where to be seen and found, and the guy Marx wearing officiants, the sissies the fat chicks in Palestrina drag and the rest of the populates are bevy with last minute shopping, as a line of Seneca comes to mind. An apostasy to good Germans and Jews in laws, AT THE END OF THE year. I am not a chin music icon who styles on clashes made by Georgetown now that they have to allow in those they didn’t back when as that once great university which ladled out heroine helpings of Ovid has destroyed itself into the causal girl crazy nagger shit we get between these self same commercials for what is left over from war incorporated doom bot R and d. A turn of events I could have guessed was coming, when we saw the rag tag white chicks and protestors screeching for dead cops was foreshadowed  well on various nightly white trash tribunes, while I’m sure the missing Jonnie would have liked, now that his buffeting the aura dun rolling of eyes was we would be told have nothing to so with this soprano grand theft auto mad man, unnoticed or prodded certainly not by the good Jews who need to cops to keep the trash and filth he tribunes away from his Jew gold and if not his very person himself so he can be with the sing a longs at the fake news and fake commentaries shows. But new Sicily always get to thus, as eventually someone is stoked after and more impassioned than the men in suits at Christmas parties would have liked for them to go, as again their aint a Roman among you and that is no compliment as radials are as so often silent and we are lectured to about an Italian mayor and not a black praetor who ahs put in all bets yonder airs as he could, as he assures his masters the gratitude shall be taken into account in billing at the end. 


There at the comics store was the Crimson Empire. I want to get this book, as it mirrors something I posited to the graft, sorry great  Star Rancho back in ‘96 when out of arts school, as it mirrors a Roman story as did his original film mirror Sejanus with a tacked on happy ending. Darth Vader is Sejanus, knight who is reduced to leg breaker for Tyberius, whose chidden are taken away to be made into Tyberius master race, all parts that Lucas had to get away from to keep his film pg. STILL, I don’t think it is for northing that George is leaving and selling out at the moment  that King Rat has come in, as if he were true to that Roman credo he has as a Coppola apprentice, he’d have to show the empire dying means a thousand of darkens, mass rapes, burnings, all seen in Augustine and we cant have JJ hernia himself on that, still, I wonder if they will be honest to the Sources material from which this crud was stolen. As eventually even the communists  in Italy state looking back fondly on Fascisms when the galaxy equivalent of aqueducts are crumbling and the people have no water. I love this genera of films still done by Jews who portend they are on the poor side of pink Christmas trees, haven’t yet made it to the point of hacking importance, and their Lucas love of rebellion and rebels. Unless of course, southern hick goys, and or Arabs, you know any one they hate. I love this YA training manual shit, as despite all the talk of wonderfulness and the self sucking of dinks, Abdul, or even Roxanne, is that a Drone you se before you?….ka boom.