09 January 2017


Satire is far too human and vital to not be hated by the sanctimonious, the true believer, the devoted, as Satire gives the game away. –Gore Vidal.

Unlike their fathers to whom they are superior, the Spartans, The Romans don’t love war, they merely are secret admirers to it. –Titus Livy. 

1. Was offered 10 bucks for the original of my Playboy last cartoon The Last Bunny, not the one with Boiney, but now that I think of it all five have a variation of Bernie as a dirty old man who is voice of reason to the lovely ethnic girl in a bunny suit.

One went to the lovely girl through the mails to Red bank NJ, and to the pretty girl with the Turnus hair, who I have been alerted through a Polaroid she keeps as retro Kitsch no less, and saw she did cut her hair, which is something all the girls do when I am around it seems for reason I do not get, making me feel less like a Jesuit and more like a monk taking in the wayward girls in the grand Manzoni. She sent me a gift for Epiphany as her Lombardi mother, celebrates epiphany as the Italians do and not Jewey Saturnalia. I thought her father was the Italian and he this time is not, she sent me a real eBay Lot of comics and a card with glitter and a dove ironically to me on , and it was just lightly brushed with one of the scents that come in the Wall street journal weekly magazine that makes my Ma sick to her stomach as all women now she says smell themselves like whores. She sent me a picture of herself with her black Little Annie fanny hairdo as I called it, as she stands and mimics in front of the secret stash, with the cartoon clerks behind her as some comic geeks taking note of her. I asked her if she went in, but she tells me no, as I am convinced then the cameras aren’t there, that jovial shit goes out the window, and they are geeks with knives out. So one playboy cartoon went to her, One went to a magazine that didn’t use it, and I sold the final sketch of it on eBay for my usual 4 to 6 bucks in eBay and other art sites where art is sold. I made 200 bucks this year, so again while the rest of you were having a requiem that never ended and you dare call the Kardashians as lovers of celebrity ,of course they are brunettes and like Cowboy wide receivers with out them as a given villain, you’d have to start honestly discussing Ofella Becham and his love of adardol, and who was talking about that before the rest of you, yet again. Oh  am the Auger, and though have been called wrong by some hacks and that ilk, I am more right than usual, and am after all a priest of Janus in the Roman days of saturnalia and that is all that means anything to me.


So I was listening to the radio fitfully and in pain as a fall gave me a hard time this time. I was listening to the only station that came in at all, as Kdka booms out with its bullshit and its static and there is no Perry Marshall  anymore. So on here, a at the end of the dial sports radio channel once called Yahoo,  some idiot ninny is on all night, doing his ‘guy’ act, and he openly sneers about Trumpie winning, but what is so hard about knowing know thy audience, I know you’re all on the pad, but still…and he was bitching about ‘the dude in the white house’, I found this funny as it inst inauguration day yet so Im sure that Barry the fairy wouldst see that as so much an insult,  he is a fat chick at heart as a insult of sorts and all. Those words were as the second time that I heard these very words today, mostly on the dude, again being a precontrived angry slur, meant by this hack to demean someone; it must be as I caught on, a lesbian thing. Anyway this hack and this sissy, perpetually telling is about his girlllllfreind, oh is that what you call it…? His life and times his sportscaster poor mans Olbermannn aplomb and that shit, yuck. He want on about next Jerry Jones, its always good to have cable television so we know who the persona non gratis are, and all, and he want on and on, trying to take away the fact they were what 14 and 2 and how Jerry had nothing to do with it. Now, my, let’s call it admiration for Jerry Jones is second to none. I have called him the monster, the sociopath, I’ve called him the Bizzaro Steinbrenner, a blow-hard and an idiot, and he’s a psycho and a fuck up. But I thought hearing this ninny wheeze, he’s a fuck up alright, and yet I thought, as this jackass brayed away with a laugh betraying a love of Pringles and weed, but he’s an honest Fuck up. He isn’t out there trying to save a rapists carrier for himself, and notice how many empty seats attach themselves to blockhead Rottenbegehr as he bumbles and craps the bed to victory, hoping to hang on for dear life and take credit for everything despite usually having thrown three interceptions a game. Jerry Joes is a lot of things, bit he’s honest at it, as I am, we are much alike, GOD HELP ME, in that its no fun if you have to reduce yourself to cheating and staling a Jesuit outlook, as he nuns told me a cheater is a man who thinks he is worth more than he is, or less, and wont stand on his own least he fall, but doesn’t underrated there is no insult to the willing, and there is no shame in falling, but the cheater cant do it, as the cheater doesn’t ever know if he cant get up.

A gal I sent my comics to said Tony we got your pictures and that small Christmas message  you sent along with it, she said you seem rather wistful and sad for the time, we enjoyed it very much and your outlook and you are funny and touching and hope you feel better this new year. I think I may have been too like him, introspective this year, sending to more than one girl a comic with a paragraph explaining how sadly and wounded I felt, and not just the punctured lung that has me taking antibiotics lest I get Pneumonia and I recall 1978 and how that word was sued as a way to get rid of anyone that Sparta inc thought would stand in the way of fag wedding cakes. This girl also liked that I said that with me I can take any gay wedding cake as sanctimonious and sacred to you all and turn it into a cream pie as have seen the Great race far too much. So, Jerry Jones deserves the credit than any of the more acceptable creeps of the cable cabal TV creeps would give, maybe more as being him he had a longer road to hoe. Im kidding, but just ask yourself what would be said about Dez Bryant if he was kissing kicking nets while toking Adoral , as it is amusing what you laughing liable Jews are able to laugh away isn’t it. But let me say this here about the cable television hacks and workbags and coloreds and fat black chicks and yoyoyo yo dawg negros of espn. There was a gentleman’s agreement to not take players from Morehouse and Grambling pushed in fact by the good blue state Rooney’s and Mara’s, and that gentiles agreement, we called it a programme when Germans did it, was broken in 1974 no less and I recall it all, when Tom Landry picked with a first round choice a man named Too Tall, mother fuckers, remember that dear Sarah Spain who is one of the few to block me, sadly before I spoke about the passable coming AFL championship game, seeing around those corners they pay lesbians to sack into. OK ill be watching that afternoon with the same glee I watched WJC tip toe through the subpoenas. Hey as we make a new cold war to the disbelief of Russian PhDs admitting that the Praetor, you know the ill get elected and give you what you want, that guy, the Lawn ornament of the Bush torture Castillo that  Manzoni in Calvino is aleergic to, the Salo we made, the one who knew but me that had octopus tentacles all the way to a MSNBC studios despite the navy boys and their lashes, just as usual with messiahs, still cleaning up for his white mother boy she did a number on you you dickless  wonder,  not in the face! , that guy,  sent word that was all bullshit, please help new Rome defeat the Isisers , dear mister Czar. I read Mariness’ When pride still mattered,  for the same reason he wrote it, as I was getting sick of Bill Clintons cartoon  colorama, and his underwear ads. The good and decent and wholesome Irish families,  who you coloreds  vote and root for in fact, asked the great Lombardi to cut a player because he had committed the sin of marrying a white woman, so please, go enjoy your adreaol and leave me be. I have the Rutillian answer to all circuses now that I as a roman don’t want to deal with and have been told this long ago, but did it now more than ever. Click. See, I didn’t listen to this smirking queen, and listened to instead fan and JJ after dark Brimming in more ways than one, he is a bit up for that time, but honest, all I admire, and not surreptitious and this by sb radio, I wasn’t there at 6 am when I awake, and so missed those three idiots who desperately need  Czabe back. So like I said there is a Physics aspect to all of this again why Machiavelli writes like Galileo or vice versa depending on where you are standing.

2. It has been both a sad and decent time of saturnalia to me, I did scratch a lung in a fall and went to the cvs clinic before they closed it down, as Barry the fairy is a whirling dervish and with only days left to go to his golden age, cant you smell the piss,…?, we will now return to the gloomy nation and dark age we were according to that hag hack cow married to Barry as a make work wanting clothes horse interpreter in the dial a date played by Reverent Wright to give the paratrooper into the ghetto Barry a black chick to hang on him as the Barbie’s he was as all half breed are , was enticed by didn’t test well in our perpetual On Broadway opening house. I saw the full page ad, putting the Bull in Bulgari in the Jerusalem Post, I’m sorry, that is wrong, the Washington Post from his dear friends the Jews on J street, as I did find it funny whoever did buy this for our President  Shatner who cant and nay Wont Go away, why we are still fighting this all out, I don’t know, decorum is beyond and above a alderman of the people as I have been wanted of your ilk by soon enough to be dead priests long ago. Thank god the clowns of empire did have that they would call solstice off and didn’t have to make a point that they had to choose between their devotion to Barry and to their paymasters the crowners of our circus the Jews as that could have been dicey and all, why our church lady and the fat little Chihuahua from that happy little island would have been put in vertigo if they had to choose between what they preened to think and what they pretend to care about. It was funny and sad to see laugh in repeats on TV, as we surely don’t act that way anymore, the sissy and the blue noses have taken over you know, marriage and sex with the lights off is our suburban creed and there was the anti- war ethic I grew up with gone now that the good liberals are a wholly owned subsidiary of war inc. Ah but as I warned and Bill Clinton could have told you after his elite meeting with Trumpie, hmnnn, this time Cattiline wasn’t in debt, at least not that much, and this time no one was taking the chance that Cicero was saving a cross just for them, In business and politics the Jewish are at their best when they are radicals and left with their noses against the imperial glass.

I did see that the calculated hard sell of television hag blond television city cunt Megan Kelley did all that work, but didn’t manage to dance her way in as the morning host at CBS, which like so much aint what it used to be, as she cleverly giggled and crossed her legs way to being up from cable TV as she has seemed to have  crash landed on NBC, which is like a sandstone version of Virgil’s alters, rising up out of an Ionian sea of sludge,  where the singing sirens are a lower level of woman, like those Hillary girlfriends and herstory perfessors who tried desperately to tar Trumpy as being almost as bad as who was slated to be first lady should she have won, which I always knew Jesuit Bill wouldst never have allowed, Fate they call it in his favorite books. I HEARD that shed be kick stepping her way, our fish faced piggish hag, One singular sensation every little number she clomps, to MBC, always the untiffany of Networks, where in fact I always thought someone of her stature would belong. She has been quite willing and eager to smirk her way across the stage, entering laughing from the left, or right shell take her understudies entrance from any wing, Alllllntownnnnnnn, ?, and now with an eye on my girl Rachel’s 9 pm slots, ssheeesh that would be a sad note as have been beguiled by our lesbian with bedroom eyes, remember I said I could save that show with her in a black teddy on a bear rug a new Barbara Feldon on television serried by nudniks and hacks and Irishman and drunks, Id save that show, but to know no that she may have to in our news Judea be made into the Brunette girlfriend of this homecoming fat girl made good, this Helen of Utica, it is sad to me to think it that my beloved Rachel will be so defamed and deprecated into being this hags lady in wafting, be made into this leg crossing cunts cup holder, as remember , as im sure the queen mother does, it was Rachel’s sneering at Billary trying to make itself into Dante and Beatrice at may day in 1275 , it was that sneer and that first week she lost it as I recall, but what do I as a mere Italian ever know, those four Piccnochios and that cigarette salesman son Biff openly haranguing her as he did that feast week, well sweetheart you’ll never know who was really against you and and how and why because if you do, believe me, quickly will John Podesta race out of town. I will hope that my beloved Rachel don’ts succumb to that hag thinking she owns the earth and everything in it, thinking she will come in as a fat ankle and awful Tinkerbelle, gleaming and eating her way across the wonderful world of General Electric. Remember these are the satirists who took OJS side too, so their track record isn’t great.

So, it was sad to see that hag Petra Principal her way up or sideways or down a bit, it was sad to me knowing here in New Judea that this is the sort of twinkling cow who gets her way she thinks as long as she doesn’t bloat again. As this station did have laugh in on it and there was the great and suave Dan Rowan, when war was actually put down as something not to love and admire, as it would become when the drone company would take hold of what they dare call with their faggot minions real news. I take it we must get real news, like the sports scores, only from companies that have a side in propaganda and who make their real money by selling turbines to Iran and a lot from selling drones that don’t crash into weddings as the newest way Amazon makes it easier for white girls to not have to go to the store.

The idea of being against war is so dated by me, so Jesuit, so seventies so unavailing and unavailable to nigger willing to be incarcerated and the rest singeing over there over there, ho kill the Arabs all over there…War has become big business , more than ever, and a discouraging  word is something far too close to satire for this flag waving riot inducing crap hole , this American cesspool life to take and accept. The Idea of a Dan Rowan with smooth cool cigarette in hand, with a ditzy gal in a bikini fruging next to him as he dares in the Roman drag and epilates of war satire that go back like satire and senators on the pad back to that remarkable  Mediterranean town, well that’s all so very Passé as we all dream of the next war. Well, of course the house coons and fat chicks of the media want to start a cold war, why her patron Goldwasser dreamt of bombing them back to the stone age years ago when she was one of the few who voted for the man who was the last that MLK voted against, but why hold that against her, don’t you lesbians always have hearts of gold, at least now that they defame the childrens hour and other movies like Charlie Chan for being not as good as the bilge we get now…?

But I did see that if anyone again dares think I don’t know this shit inside and out that I don’t know my letters and my figures as a Jesuit student should and must, well, it appears that after an advent of her minions pretending they wanted her to win, really they were behind her all the way, they even had the jokes already written down, mostly what they thought of Roman Bill, just in heels and in reverse, after a saturnalia of dodging this shit, it appears that talk of boycotting the Inauguration because that the Bush family and thus War Inc, and Dow, a name I saw as a blast from the past as one of the slave labor types not willing to somehow be part of what should be a pro bono Publico affair, but then we have privatized everything’s since that idiot Carter couldn’t get it done fast enough ah he was hated once too, it appears that we will in fact see our betters, the Bushes and the Clintons at this inauguration kissing Trumps ring, again if they are  lucky, as the Barzinni Funeral that  this Godfather nation believes in continues. It appears after so much big talk as I Roman Anthony saw it, after speaking of how the Bushies, the Kennedy’s who lived, and the Clintons their help made good, upstairs downstairs in the praetorium with all commensurate rivalries and angers, that in fact, if you believd that tehse machers and gonniffs were missing this Roman affair, if you thought  they were staying at home, fuming and fussing and boiling with angers, if You thought Hillary was going to be as I said, in the abandoned Metropolis subway station with Otis and Miss Tescmahcer or a her story profressor sort, well she is of a criminal class much better than  that, and she and her husband, probably like most things are done in that crime family because he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Literally. He has spent a life more wanting than having and if you think he is forgoing one of these  Roman spectacles, laterally meaning be made a Roman priest and auger, if you think  Roman Bill will miss this because of some bullshit devotion to some stranger he is married to, if you think my man Roman William is going to forgo our Julian Calendars fulcrumed day of augers, if you think hell forgo the Roman sets of Lupracalia because Trumpy after confining with him, humnnnnn, beat the son of the man he snatched power from, well, niggers shit ,as usual you haven’t been paying attention. If you think he would walk past the Palladium, literally Minervas temple because of devotion to his wifffffffe, yuck, if you think he will forwent the day of the instillation of the new king, the new Lupricalia, over his wife, out of devotion to his wife, Im kidding I cant say it without laughing, dear, keep your Samantha Bees closer dearie, keep the devotion of smiling churchy ladies like Steven Colbert who treid to crowbar his sister in there for laughs, stick with them, because if you thought Hubby was going to have your back, well, hes too bust trying to get his number to a hostess and be sure to wash your face of that left over , hummmn, power and honoraria that he smashed your face into before you make another of your infernal jaunts for power, now becoming like Lyndon Laruche, this Lyndons fer you, gals, remember your just being alive is thanks enough, I know deepd own when the morning lam begins to flicker as Ovid said, you think sottavoce about what he will take , your Roman husband, emphasis on Roman and Husband, or is it grateful you should be. I hear they think of actually running for new york Mayor this strange Hydra that the two have become, amazingly fused tighter I SAY amazingly what with him being gone most nights at 3 am and she not aware where he was or what he was doing, enough already I say. As see we must hear now from bloated piggish cow Rosie O’Donnell in all who was like them all so willing to destroy Monica with two bit jokes ah but there are more mistresses and brunette out there than Maureen dowdy and the women who lunch should figure which is strange as that Dog Bill was a racing dog through the Roman alleyways an Argos looking for as it were porch to land on.  I cant stand this cow, as recall when I see her doing her now shed good girl act and nice queen  shit recoiled by a Bella Abzug without the warmth, I think leave me alone hunnie and go find Edie Falco, if shes hasn’t died like so many Sopranos, and go do your long island charm shtick somewhere else. Every time she lecturers us like Barry the fairy to never stereotype and to not jump to consolations , I wonder how much the Arabs have to do to as she laughingly did to the nuns who I saw as almost as equal to the priests as figures of civility, I wonder how it is she cant do I guess a brogue version of an Arab, but then will do pigeon gookism as they all do, as after all, just going after the Italians after a while starts to bore a clown who must spread their wings, of whatever flaps she has.

See, hell be there, so remember all the crime families will be there, the Gehlph the Gibbelininis the Fondas and the Borgias, as I have said, they will all be there and so recall that, the whitest kids you know,  when all the pigs and swine and scum of Yale bulla bulla sore losers show up on garments all white, they’ll be there at the Roman alters, as is been a hard year as I SAID, AND THE TRAPPNGS OF POWER ARE BY NOW AS MACHIAVELLI SAID MAY BE THE ONLY POWER THEIR SCAIMINET THAT THEY HAVE LEFT, AS ALL BUT Bill SEEMD TO DAMN AND DETEST THE ITALAINAS AND GOOFBALLS OF HISTAOTY AND LOEVRS OF A PURPLE SASH, YOU HAVE ROOM TO TALK, but it was Roman Bill, who was once seen in revere as a Pollock Prince of the church was lecturing him about something, he was lost in thought looking out at the field of Mars where such things had once a real oomph to them. That’s was before we all became criminals and laughable gumbas and could have told you the jokes that come concurrent with a falling empire. IT is where we get the term Il be there with Bells on, or Belles on in his case, because in Etruscan literature and Tuscan farce and Theater Cambrian arts now said to be genius by wicked white ladies, before they took to the Greek letters and  syphilis imposed upon them, so quit sending me bullshit about the pipelines and injins I thought. We say Ill be there with bells on because in that early Italian or late Tuscan, the case may be satire and farce the Romans were shown always as jingling and jangling and pinioning and pendulum doing fools encrusted with epaulets and ribbons and sashes , you know what Hillary set still on power fantasy  dreams of that sash, it means Im better than you, like I haven’t seen this as like Bull have been out there in the Romans tenements all my life, too. So I know why the Bush family will be at the inauguration, in rather than be out there with the dreaded and hateful and dismissed Plebs, not with the dirty and the filthy, Mommy, the family has been scheming and plotting a long time since  the Ozarks mud hens and the grave robbing and stables boys all patricians starts at, place Caesar line here, its been a hard year for the passvante for the crypts of empire, as they’ve had to take refuge in having trash like the Clintons and the old erroneous man ,Mackane be on their aside, a cross Purposeless that our Nazi collaborators have always been ashamed of and never knew like the Italian  he has often  openly reviled as has his loser scull and Boners Lurch, that no Italian, certainly no Clinton was going to break a sweat to make them kings, much less show them Machiavelli’s  Roman might. No, Roman Bill shall be right there as Roman hero as Gallenthomo as passvante and macher and man and arms, whether his wifffffe cares or blows up about it or nt. Hell be there. With bells on and attached, scanning the crowds for a Jo Collins or a Gig Gangel or a Patria Belladonna Fairinelli as the she the her the thunderbolt of the she is the issuance of life. Looking back at Bad verses the thing that bothered me the most was seeing that the son of Proconsul Biddding, that hair plant jack ass, that his dying son , looking into the vastness of that No that exists in space and time, the inferno beckoning  and the oars man coming that close that he would waste his last breaths on who and what would get into that whorehosue called a praetorium it made me ill thinking of it, that this hacks hack son, would be dying no less and thinking of nothing more than who would be first  among equals this time, it made me actually shudder thinking of it. Whose vulgar now, old man…? Take your face making somwhers else as again, old man Mackane, that was a hell of a senate and you and that NANCE aint. Did I ever tell my Olgeltree story…?... well it was 1981 an the Jesuits were looking for lawyers to recruit , yah that’s it lawyers.  There’s also a bit I have whirled this at white women since I was fifteen , that one can only abuse that which they hate, something dear Hilly should have read in those Roman books her Husband near the old playboys, as it a  line that shuts the good women being abused by hubby , well it shuts them up. And I made a remark about how I , though there was anger that I WAS ALLWOED TO be here a freshman in that year, and that others were much more devoted than I was, as they kept their theses in plastic sheaths and I was getting Jesuit admiration and was published for things written in Bic Banana on newsprint my father bought me by the shitlaod, and so I said, getting a laugh that I refused to demean and lower myself to debating this girl on the other side , who was a real Hound,  and this meant nothing to me, as beauty is to a Roman boy everything, easily if it’s the kind of beauty that Rosie O’Donnell and the rest of the crows hate. Then being a bitch I said that this thought vestries of wper and its want and needs and its Junior political hack kits, bothered me so, at that they had everyone doing this shit about fake cases and war games and speaking of Pairea an America that never was. Or may be now a field of Mars, or maybe better Ares. I said to them that this gamesman ship and bullshit bothered me and I shut them up good as I have as I have been told a knack for that. So, a Roman toast to Bill as he will be there with bells on, playing the role he was born to play as he knows that Trumpie is playing the role Roman literature made for him, destroyer of the dragoon and dragooned Hillary, a role that ninny negro could never do. So he will be there,  On the south portico of the capitoline, because that’s what Augustus did, and the south face of the capotoline is close to the god of red skies, Mars is closest to earth when you point to the south, whether you imperial gals like it or not.

I miss that brunette so wholly and fully and wish I COULD GET BACK TO HER SOMEHOW, but don’t know how. She sent me a gift of comics, about twelve or so, all the old kind I always try to get, and I miss her so very much as she is out there somewhere so far away. She sent me a plastic bag willed with old comics, and not that dc shit, some marvel, but musty Dell and gold key as I have mentioned it this year. She bought me Lone rangers  and Phantoms and Archies and all that I mentioned. Some were a comic I never saw before really called King and were gorgeous yellowing and still brilliant images of Flash and Dagwood and Prince Valiant in georgic old comic strip perfection. And with that was a cd. I had to go in the attic and get the old computer that plays them as this new one I take it is as they always do, getting people to erase the same things on something new again. I put it in and on the disk was a file a mpeg 4 which made me get an older computer that still has Quick Time. She sent me a file of Radio the great blues seventies band, and it was the song ‘But you cant change that’ as I may have mentioned to her was in my seventies film script CANT STOP THE BOOGIE, and I maybe have told her that I never was a boyfriend and I wasn't going to try to be one in the space between here and my beloved new jersey. I sat there instead of watching football as am waiting for the Cowboys as its seems is America, so eat shit, espn. I sat there and heard this song and was in a kind of quiet. So much to anyone who thinks I DON’T KNOW what I AM TALKING ABOUT WHEN THE Jesuits made sure its all that I knew. If you don’t think I understand my Roman primers and schoolboy Virgil, well, recall if the fat chicks in Palestinian drag and their nigger boyfriends try to crash the  Romans rites as in fact in 1993 Bush, all is spite to them, smelt out the first draft of sore loser men to screech and howl at Clinton, to  try to steal the purple mantle from him as he would have from a man he openly called the Godfather and then Mario had my mothers admiring when he turned down a seat there near Scalia as a prize that was a grace note from Bill, who frankly is like Scorsese  and unlike me, given to doing them that often or well. Recall kids, that Roman Tony knows the score of this rigged game, and if you don’t believe me, ask Conan. Ouch.  I wont sell that picture of the playboy model based upon Patty Fairinelli, as she is the belladonna example of those cineretta Italian movie goddesses, the kind of women we don’t see anymore.


Post a Comment

<< Home