AS I WAS SAYING….
i. The basic tenet at to all I am and do is this simple phrase,
as I have said before. I am not again one of those lovable wops you see and
enjoy on television.
ii. During Saturnalia, I committed to and did three strips
which is my word for sometimes multipage comicals and cartons and one pagers
and did them all as I said I would. Have to hear back about one and the others
are sent in and cast as dice. I DID THE pages during the holiday, as it was nice
diversion from the vibrato and the cum stained poison that came from hags and
creeps, trash and thugs who suddenly imagine this, weren’t as against OLD grey
mare Hilly as you would have thought when in fact they voted against her so
often than any trashed concierges or gone baby gone negroes who didn’t show up for
her, as perhaps as I thought and even warned, too many middle class families were
shattered and torn asunder by this bow caster shown as lovers of the familiar
party when in fact more than a few back men and sons and fathers were sent to prisons
and wars, the only jobs program the Clintons and Bushes can argee upon in the
duchy they have figured to split between their paltry takes.
A gal I am working for as much as anything, I say with, but
as most things juts do what II do and send it in, good or bad and don’t take as
Sallust said, Dictation. She asked me, Tony why is it when you show a
standard as you often do in your work,
she liked the image of the Italian banker standing smoking under a standard as
he was, Brutus he was named, as in the yellow sun air of all placed Buffalo,
New York, a standard flies sadly and forlorn ly from a blue state and thus left
to the rigamortis of aldermen and tenement upkeep, a telephone pole, and she
added, why is the standard sin your work, like this and telleus meter, the
solider in shining metal armor, why is the standard always frayed and barley
kept together…? Because, it is I said, and vain gloriously myself sent her a
link to a work called Regalia explaining all that was about to happen, if it
was bloated an pompous and self righteous it might as well be German, this
making her laugh Jewish she is, and broken and frayed and busted and
unraveling, like the republic in which we live, it is and decent and Roman and
whole and pure, like the three graces, and is like those last pages in the
decline and fall of the roman empire, whose last gasp as roman soldiers does
and did so bother the English queers who thought it impunity to give in a copy
of an English book a twenty page translators introduction, much like the one in
my Boccacchio, lest I take away the wrong ideas that Penguin didn’t want me to
take. I must make the standard as sketchy and unsheltered and barley held
together as that first and last Romans awards was, the clean dun shining lies of
Augustus if I may and the cleaning quickies if imperial woe mean little to me
as much as does the at wits at arms length at odds at extremis, at last bastion
at ends and means stand of a society of Italian farmers whose crass crowns are
true and real, as grass and wool and old incitements are the best and only
honoraria they have We'll get there thanks to the Bush family and their new
found help at Yale quads, soon enough. There is dignity, dignities honor I say
and am told in poverty, the nuns told me, as they and the priests too, they
loved that last gasp of Roman devotion too, from where I learned it as a boy in
1977 or so, and it is in that unraveling red stained reminder and clutched unto
silk, like say that of a praetor who wont share his manta with mother
dreariest, in which there is a sadness of empire which you Jews and spics
haven’t ever gotten close enough to too ever understand, much less take that
thing which is the fulcrum of all art, realization and recognition.
iii. I had a chance to get some comics done and our there,
although again and this now is a trend, I WAS TOLD NOT TO USE the characters I
HAVE made and subsequently copywritered as my own, again not trusting the
society that the society of Jesus and my father told me was a nest of vipers
long ago that make Sicily look positively tame and un highwaymen as Himmler himself
once said the third Reich was nothing compared to the nation of Ragtime and the
stealing of superman from Jewish kids, you know so new Hercules could fight
Hitler for the temerity of thinking his race was dominate when in fact they
were barely English at all, and didn’t even have a real history of slavery as
the Spanish and Jews had. Slaves adhere to your masters that Jewish praetorian
said, you know. Poor Shuster, he who got
nothing for creating that better mousetrap, which is better as all things
American as a theoretical and thus no string attached idea. I have been told before
I could not use my own ideas, but unlike comics I have done called Mr. Invincible
for writers wishing to get a foot hold somewhere anywhere though I may not be
the best to do that but who like my work, they don’t give me a character they
have invented, which I am more than wiling to do, no, they just tell me
whatever it is I cant own it, but they wont give me one. My brother, as I have
said, is sharper and smarter than I, as
I have said smells a con, but I went ahead and did five covers for this miniseries
anyway, though couldn’t use Angry as a magazine of satire, as I have sued, but
instead they saw a cover I had done and posted I called Mud, which somehow waddnt
a copyright infringement, which a I have said before an since Augustus, there
has always been a satirical intent codicil to our empires greasy weasel laws
about copyright, which even the Italians and Romans you see as all criminals
have never had. Did my share of it and sent
some in and as usually happens the people as if they had never seen my work before;
again, they were not kind or impressed.
Why was I dong this then I thought, as have cast off most
work in a under the weather time of January, but wasn’t sure exactly what they
thought I was to do, or why, as suddenly I was far too subtle I was told, --that’s
ME, EVEROYNE I WAS TOO SUBTLE, WOW, still they wanted more cartoonist, which I
wasn’t enough, more like Wally wood, --
that’s ME AGAIN THAT’s ME THAT THEYY WERE TALKING TO, GOOD GRAVY!—I wasn’t cartoon
enough whatever still, I really wadnt in the mood to keep going, at all, and
again somehow they felt cheated as if I ever preened to be anything else. But
while doing some of these pages I went to the internet and looked up free
copies of comics I was trying to redo or do like, and as I may have said at face
book was looking for NOT BRAND ECCH as I love the work of Marie Sevrin, especially
as her Wonder woman, who I noted like the Scarlet witch is given a larger bust and
true black hair in these comics, freed from whatever edicts and caveats,
decrees and demand that uncle Stan placed down, as it took roman satire to allow
a pretty brunette into the bullpen where Jack the hack made sure a brunette like
his wife would never be welcomed into his fake world as wives were horses that
bitched at poor men who may or may not have had Capote put his underwear back in backwards as a signage to the wife that
this blind hack later re seen and made into a Virgil by sportscasters on
political hack TV, turns out I was right when I said he was a canary in a gold
mine as the mimeos are starting to fly, was again, playing the filed with keep girls
at Gothem quarterly. I downloaded the massive fold more than any other shared
ware comic I ever took off the tubes of the internet, a reason I took a nice
respite from having put the ram on me by men of the people who find again and
too late that the Bush And Sorsus IOUS aren’t worth the people they are written
on, as in Scorsese and old movies, those snowflakes turn out to be soap fakes,
and detergent, just like the blood that smears itself in the tenement walls, as
I a Roman prefer less falseness than all of this. As a Roman I say if bothering
to put blood on the wall, or like an antony
have it cover your hands as a signage of ones liberator decency, it better be
fucking real blood, that’s for damn sure.
iv. I downloaded the comics, and after a few pages not having
found wonder woman yet or ever Marie yet, whose brother husband if connected at
all, John Severin didn’t get a book of his mad work in a box set of comics as
did my beloved Jack Davis and Wally Wood and Elder whom as I said, I have never
liked, as if again Severin, he was persona non grata because as that blimp citizen
Gaines said he didn’t ‘draw funny’, which im still not sure what that even
means. In this comic, I saw what I think is wrong with America to day, shown
even back then by the king of hard sell, old Stan the man Lee, who never stops
closing to the pivot that enough already, as with Scorsese is the only legit
answer to the position like talents of a perpetual motion machine, is he. I saw
that I can interestingly enough speak for the rest of America cant take about
the horrid satire now, the cutsey pie way that the marble comic creeps were
shown, a play at satire, and the meanness at which the brad X dc was shown, meanness
which parades and sanctifies itself as satirical when its nothing but its ugly
unmarried and unmarketable cugine Ridicule. I was not shocked really and glad I
didn’t pay the thirty bucks I would have
bought the whole kit and caboodle for at a local comic store, of using my
augers gifts t know id hate it, as this was an American thing as seen now, in
that NOT BRAD ECCH was a perfect distillate of the strage underpinnings of sanctimony
from a hard sell goniiff like Old Stan, always be closing Stan, Glengarry Glenn
Ross Stan, poormouth blue streak Stan, I had a feeling this was what I’d get and
actually started to resent having sued a whole gigabyte to get it down as
again, there was level of meanness that I will never have and cant thanks to
the Franciscan nuns as never as willing
to be on the Bush family payroll as never ever will be as have an inkling their
vaults are filled with postdated checks,
and lead nickels, and they like all patricians of names and names only, are
more weathered and hollow like the Hillary campaign alas as we now hear from prince
of foxes as his ilk always does when Lucretzia is gone and tries to get back in
the rabbles aside again as life if not imperia goes on bra my oh how de life
gooes ouhnnn, obladay obla dah… Sometimes the wind itself tells me of the unfrayed standards of the
Bush house dry cleaned and ever so proper, the House of M, upturns downthrows,
fake patrician hood are always over cleaned, and kept much more nicely than
those held by the rabble marching arks through Italy or in Dante’s Florence trying
too melt the Ice, and find the old ruins, and that as roman Tony says is a dead
giveaway to the dust of imperial rot within.
v. What made me sad was seeing these hags and cunts trash
and pigs, in some Greek choruses of fag hags and queens, whiter cunts than you
know, myopic and ugly witches, sorry if harch, too harsh for the pigs, nothing
more wide sweeping or demeaning than a
fag named Dickens seeing of the women as all the witches of Italy, maybe that
should be vce versa but don’t care to get that penny dreadful hack right, as
there were no gracious ladies or far away goddesses of Chaucer for that queen, a
fish run lead by ageing twat Madonna, whose knew wasn’t just using a gynecological
exam as a replacement for having talent. Ah, but once again old divine miss M
is always right and has seen her ilk before god knows, no matter who white your
skin is dear, you coming as she did from the same Umbrian Plains as Alan Alda
and Cassius, still you are a dago whore dear and my mother warned me about how
you masters will eventually treat you honey, especially if show a Neapolitan love of the sun and the
sex which Cicero even said came from the worshipers of it as is found in that ancient
city. Speaking of which, I by accident heard this cretin again on the Radio,
speaking of the traps they lay for even the lightest sonend of the Neapolitan
wouldn’t take that as an insult as her kind might, I heard this Huge faggot shit
on cbs radio, still screeching about Penn State for reason am unsure as that great ending for the last
class of Joe Patetno seemed to enflame our human hemorrhoid even more as I don’t
know what he is looking for exactly, a disinterment of Joppa’s grave, perhaps, I m snot sure, but something must be done, he
demands what I am sunerrs, as the rapists and wife beaters start to outnumber
those who are not in the nfl he like they do seems to carrey water for. As all
Lee j Cobb public avengers as he always insists, though I am unsure what it why
or where or how, but something more must be done as he revels in calling whatever
gaped there in that shower as rape, saying it with a child’s joy at saying a
bad word, whereas Rape of women as done in say the north side, and black couches
who knew of hangovers gong nowhere , that isn’t such a big deal as he brings up Rottensbugher as do all the tomboys
without so much as a dirty word. This creep keeps screeching about Penn state,
for reasons I am uncertain, but I can smell the sulfur, maybe nothing more than
Italians have been made a stand in for all the darkeis I’m so sure he ready
hates, whoever it is wherever these linemen are kept in, whatever it is that
tooth as pop says is rotten and makes the tongue go there, whatever, it shows
something that they standing on principal, ever know is as transparent as the
face maskers never really understand. I don’t know what this hack hag creep pig
wants exactly maybe only fake outrage, maybe worse, maybe he doesn’t know either,
but something about a man going out is way too make sure we know he is firmly
against child molestation called rape by him n a glissando of fraudulence,
again while the nfl seems more than willing to have woman molesters in its ranks
despaired what unmarred first and Tom Sawyer like gals say on cable TV,
whatever this creep is after I don’t know.
But he keeps saying the word death penalty over and over, as
if it means something, carefully not a Latinesque Precedent, god knows as
certainly he don’ts seem to be as concerned about how in the black arts of
legalism somehow a gal who called herself raped was through the Jewish jujitsu
of legalese, made a whore who now that we think of it may have actually went to
a co- ed party asking to have ten men cum in her yap, all woman are whores if
not ugly witches, see Dickens above, so, at any minute with the cunts on their side
in their pockets it is amazing how quickly that wall of cunt that can be whipped
about there can find itself love of eye socket blood is just for those who make
a Playboy cartoon or an aside, but if the fates are going to get even with Ben
and the rest of the now called killer bees who lost their stingers on prime
time television, well, that will have to come through the attritions of bad ratings.
Think this ghoule getting Patrenos hide would have fed this interviewing vampire
enough, and yet, I smell the sulfur as did Gore in that film, and as for this
hack saying there was never a connection between sports and the university system, wrong again, dear
old hack, closet everything. You see going back to the ancients and to the recreation
of universities again, Oxbridge was in fact still a cow pasture when the lyceum
remade at Naples was breaking down, but what cabal television show would be sad
neigh to show that like so much erected first in Italy before like with poetry
and rock and roll England could make its oxen go across bridges and preened
they invested it, the roman line was sound mind sound body and thus people were
emptied to play at parts as a way to learn sportsman ship and decency an such,
and after all, dear sissy old, Gymnasium in fact, naked youths and I ever told the
Latin wished for me to take by my own lets say, eyeing priests, it means that in
fact, as some I know anyone who is attached to sports in such a way well it to my
jaundiced eye reveals much the more you are sure you aren’t standing in principal
I hear echo’s of something else, but
then such is my greatest talent.
I do hope that idiot Madonna is put in jail for insinuating
that shed blow up the white house, oh as close as shell ever get to be an ISIS,
as Turan or Minerva alas was always out of the question, Venus only as an American
way as turning the tricks of entrainment and with her fake Brash accent, the essence
of American hood, as I have been of eating crow always with her ilk, everything
can be a sad sexual pun. I do hope after she aid she so hated Trump and is
soooo devoted to Hillary you see shed commit mass murder, where were you at when
those hospitals were being bombed, but then Madam Lugosi has made a party as
crass as all the gumba Jews have always been.
To blow up the praetorium, a mere toll booth I grant now, is
sad even for this aging whore. So blow up the white house, dear, squeaky is
catching, and through, easier than having to vote for her, again the reach is
all, such a good little wop living out her dago creed as murderer and a history
of Vice that the Jews are so sure of as they build their pens I wasn’t allowed
to be against once, how about that…? I HOPE SHE IS PUT IN JAIL, accused you see
dear, you hack, you dago cunt, you stupid wop twat, see Barry the fairy when in
full imperial bloom, he made sure that words were brought back such a wonderful
lovely man, he made sure that Irish garbage like Billo and Chris Matthews could
call men sympathizers again, words made a joke in Altman and the MASH I LOVED
AS A KID, words like rabble rouser and men were put in jail for merely thinking
the thought crime that America somehow wasn’t allowed to crack open a nation
for no reason, the giant flag wipers barely recall that, the whip having been
theirs for far too long and they thought they had bought it. and not only not leaving
roads like the Romans, they managed to make sure priceless antiques were stolen
and somehow all ended up on tear sheets and safest and sups of for sale papers sent
to various western museum lists, as though this was an Arab and not quite the bonanza
that is Roman stiff to the middle browed cultured of America still, was a bargain
at these prices. I hope duped ageing cunt like stake tartar Madonna goes to
jail as better Italians went to jail as we know now than her for less. Not only
is this cunt no Gina or Sophia or Peir or Cardinale red and full breasted in
the Tyberius trees. I want this hag to go to jail, because being a button man
is sad enough of a Italian American crime dream, but doing it for an ageing hag
cunt like Hillary or any Clinton, or any Bush even is an Italian tragedy whose retiling
had been done enough so much it makes the lesbians angry, or muddy, as the case
may be.
vi. At some hungered, haggard, ragged convention of unmarred
pigs, this old whore got up and said this masking thing, showing again the liar
tells the truth when thinking they are lying the most, another off those Jesuitical
equations you really should have read up on dear Madam Borgia Hillary before putting
America through this perpetual third act you wont lay go.
As I write again this, prince off foxes tread gingerly,
seeing the hemorrhaging off ratings says it isn’t purely we don’t hate you
middle classed 240 percent grown
poverties pimps and Sicilians, no we just never noticed you much even
though we had an inkling you couldn’t stand Livia. He dismissed the queen of
the Tyberian body count. Now that’s entrainment. The kings of the last act age
are falling in the chilly winds, as I said, quoting the beloved by Jesuit when
I was a kid Napoleon said losing is its own purge but again, with these
ratings…sorry well see who wishes to be a sellout for eth dying old queen, as I
know one thing, this dago cunt Madonna, like Michel Corelone being a war hero,
they love trashing the Italians best with their worst, Donna not so gentila,
our handmaiden at a perpetual Salo, ho!!!!!!!!, isn’t the sort of Goddess that
my brother Bill, brazen Bill has loved since he was a kid as have I, Madonna
has never been my Italian goddess, though she is Umbrian with blue eyes and
white skin, same as Beatrice, oh Darwin was a liar, she isn’t my her, the she,
and I dint think his, so I’d be careful again
as I have warned as much as anything, if this Kotex patrol thinks that Capt Billy
will let this keep making him relive this failure of his name over and over,
your family has my name on it dear, too out it in the terminology of the only
roman mythology we are allowed, if you hags and twats think Bill will live
through this snow strum, this sludge, this Italian avalanche much more,well I
have a feeling that our tie wearer wont. As how about a woman telling me I made
that up, oh go ask Maureen dear, I bother the hags instantly, if you think my
buddy Roman Bill, which was a designation bothering this hag too, if you think
my man Roman Bill, yes Roman Bill, I take it the hee haw analogies didn’t
bother you enough to mention it, oh well, sorry, but one has to pull out if the
skid before it takes you off the minivan bridge, dears, as I have feeling that the Roman Bill show I was
going to tell him this and then felt to leave him, alone that
Roman as a descriptive bother some hag, well as he would say quoting Plautus
again, you don’t have any, I have an inkling and am alas right, ask Arod I knew
hed, uh, run out of steam, and the flags didn’t come that day, i have a feeling
our buddy Bill always took the side like me of Norman Mailer, and I leave it at
that.
vii. A public official was according to wgn gotten rid if
dared to call these sold witches and
crows ugly women…I cant say what I see this time, lovers of truth when it came
to the sopranos like those stung by wolves of wall street positively ballistic
you hurled your shit at them, as they always are exempt. OH, I cant say all the
Jew jokes, fine once, now which were fine for Monica, or the woman once shown
as graces on Roman works were almost no one Is blond, imagine that, and now
have been placed in a limbo until the hags and the bitches are retold to disrobe
another praetors girlfriend just because its fun, ….oogh F you dears, see along
with those spics and Arabs who think they are loved, remember Roman Antony’s
scenes of the gilded door amid how quickly you and find yourself as persona non
grata and how fast a man can become Pompey with of all people Chuckie as the
wall street bankers friend as champeen of the poor and the weak and where do I
go to dip my beak, emphasis’s on the beak….well I will call you anything, I
have he impunity of the roman dago mad man at the triumph, less like anything
Caesar had for Hillary as much as Sky Masterson singing away in a sewer that
shed be saved by a Roman goddess, who has always hated her and loved her
husband in front of her, like most of the DAR.
But to show how sad I feel as this march of the unaired and
unquaffed was going on, depilatory cream is after all a mark of imperialism as
somehow Gigi Marquez never is, still, during this another TACITUS MOMENT OF SAD
RELAXATION, THAT FROZEN MOMENT IN WHICH WORDS AS DANTE SAID ARE UNNECESSARY,
and might just muck things up. So Goodnight Mary, and Della my beloved boyhood goddess
as a symbol of the kind of woman I desired
and wished for so bad, some of us need, finding only the conniving with
lesbians whose divinity just begged too be demeaned with wayward, no icy and careful
smarmy dismissals from Roman plays and farces, the society girl Friday we all
dreamed of before the rabbis left being so near my pops decaying candy store,
he asking my dad to send me to Harvard as a spitting from the inferno heart to
the Harvard swells. But, my father would have no part of it, as these two old
men missing the old country more then William Payly would call for, so Della
Street, the rialto cigarette girl
sympatric Kelly girl answer to the bloved by television married woman as she
helped her oafish hero solve crimes always on the side of the defense and never
as cops a da, they were always buffoons then. Della and Laura are gone today I
write this, sad it is, but even a misto mother seeing this who she adored them
too, before we all became Ovid’s blonds in the mausoleums, and the brick and
the Romans weren’t fitting anymore to a Jew or Arab chancre diner party thrower
who was serving shit, from where again we get as I once proscribed, eating
crow. THE IDIOT, unaccustomed to the Georgetown sub urba life and still a hack
and a grasper as his ilk always is, served crow to the swells of the fashionable
part of Rome, and didn’t uh,…lets say what is called, what does my mother do to
those fish she salts as was taught by the Chinese who got there first or most,
well when you take a beast and tress him for eating tailing out the innards,
which the Italain to Greek and Jews horror thought, made sausage and
sweetebards were as edible as anything. See, to eat crow means in plicate Romans
circles forever ever since to eat shit. So, I packed here a story told to me by
a Jewish chubby cute office girl once at DreamWorks, who saw my work as despite myself and my affections
quite early to sell and make and even commercial, --how dare you!—Still she sent
me missives from la la land, as I was far enough away to make it count. and she told me that Madonna, Madonna,
Madonna, writhe around and Twyla it up when you say that pal, sucker, she
wanted the role of the princess in that snotty movie made my loved Meathead,
and this girl told me that not quite a chip off the old block as have adored
Carl since he my first hero and who I wished to become, ALANNNNNN
BRAAAAYADDDAYYYYY….that’s when we were all Jerry Paris then, and that in this fairy
tale movie, that Madonna wanted to play one of the roles like Stallone as
superman she was ‘too Italian’ for, as Meathead wouldn’t even read her. I
DON’T KNOW IF TRUE, BUT AS THE JESUITS TOLD ME ANY LAWYER WHO CAN’T GET HEARSAY
INTO A TRIAL ISNT WORTH HIS FEE. I have loved Rob Reiner since I a kid, and he
was a best part of wolf of wall street, don’t forgo the audience, dont sneer at
them too much, kids, the Roman rules still the same, don’t do it Martin, it is
everything!, as I heard some Jew trying too make him out to be some turn coat ,
as the white woman now use shame you see that for them dint, even to Brady fer
Trumpie, you’re only allowed to be close to a man like that of having the bonds
of matrimony and Italian history dear, but see, don’t use shame you anti Dellas,
and anti Lois that our Lana Langs always hate, see cause if you want to use
shame you really should, you Pittsburgh football fans and democrats, have less
rapists in the parade than you do.
viii. A girl I sort of met came up to me, because of my
Cowboy hat, and she started to talk to me because of it. As another cute
Italian woman, quite Sarah Spanish in demamenor, she told me with a knock of
her fingers against my navy blue cap, ad its cesarean star, playfully causing
its blue bill to fall against my face, and when I sited it up saw this pretty,
lippy, gal standing there with smarty smile, Hey dude, she said, I feel bad
about the cowboys, too. Never turning up my nose at a pretty girl of that
tanned Gumby smiled sort I said as reaffixed my cap, lest she know I am as bald
as I am, my meter like Bills is always on, I said, I don’t feel bad young lady,
I had an inkling that the Cowboys were going to be the human sacrifice in this
rites of vespacian —I trailed off realizing this pretty, tanned skin, girl had
no idea what I WAS TALKING ABOUT, and so just smiled back, always a smart thing
to do. She started too tell me how she was disappointed in that lug Arod going
on to again, as I augured, lose badly in a championship game , but at least as
I sometimes do , despite the circumstanced, that piggish lout coach did get
another line in his always flouted at you résumé of liens and championship
games, when not playing a cowboy team
suddenly avowed too be openly rigged
against by a dying sport and the bloated hack who is taking if off the ledge,
dimwit Gödel, is stupid enough to
think America hates, as despite the paid and payee house
everything’s who support him and his teams of rapists and cheaters cable
television, its the audience he loses. I saw, she said, her smiling at me and
quite curvy in a long limbed sort of way, that they cant sell this super bowl
to no body she said, and it serves them right, showing again, as Machiavelli
said, no one is as stupid as they hope they are, and as in fact, America, that
place supposedly against the cowboys has said a giant Feh to blood sport this
year causing the tom boys and the sissies and the ninnies if sport talk to not
know the first rites of Roman circus. To that jewie rat in fan radio whose
numbers have plummeted too, as this super bowl shows us what the next for years
would have been had Hillary wan, yawwwwwwwnnnnnn, there is indeed as Niccollo
said a fatiguing quality to evil and again, despite the niggers of spirits
radio and television and the Prairiea filled with cowturds, no one wants to
root root root for Tom Brady, already openly laughed at, and for him to get
even with the fact that some one caught him yet again. I hate when he and the
Clintons are said to be Machiavellian, that BLACK SIANT OF the black Priests,
it bothers me as to say that if they were more like Machiavelli, they would be
caught so often, but that just me. I’m not watching any shitty instant apathy
uberbowl, I’m watching Mary.
She was very cute, an Italian girl of the sort unseen on the
Jewish theater that is acceptable Minstrel shows asking to be seen as art as
Gene Siskle called it all, and she stood there more affable and open to me that
I often think girls are or should be to and with me as I am perhaps a bit more
guarded than I ought to be. She continued talking to me as if she knew me and I
found here very pretty, friendly, and disarming. She had those lovely, droopy,
half asleep eyes of a Mitchem sort, the kind of moody somnambulant eyes and
dopey air I adore and a long thing lipped smile, very Italian as again unseen
on the myriad of minstrel shows that
Jewish in laws and America has loved as they pretend now they just love Muslims
so now, so much and see, if they happen
to close the golden door and or bomb an aids caravan all paid by Jews and such
who start to get a bit nervous when they
lay it on so thick as the hypocrites literally always do. And, which doesn’t
even make a needle move amid the smiling and red carpet dancing hags, you Arabs
now beloved as they weren’t for Fisa bills that the 400 voted against, no
matter what they Jew us down with now, do remember to take the whoops and the
apologies with the with crocodile tears and apologies with the can of salt they
deserve, remember, it doset rain drones, it
pours, and bidness is bidness. Watching the Laugh in reruns, which we
aint getting anything like now that the National Biscuit company thinks they
are going to be the new Fox, so fuck you fat hags, and such is life, what you get when you sell your soul to the arms
traders and toasters makers, I realize as a boy again, I hated Lilly Tomlin who
comes in now two months into this replay, as I find this hag cunt was trying to
take over for and from the gal I really did like, the cute Ruth. I hate that
cunt Lilly Tomlin, ever leaning her or her usual mod aspect of making fun of the
menially and viciously trashed the working
women, telephone operators and in fact DAR. I hated Lilly Tomlin, even as a
kid, and her smart ass act, making fun of
the housewives and telephone operators, and ladies in ermine and furs, dammed
and demeaning all, as Ruth always seemed much cuter and more of a cutie pie to
me, prettier more than she was allowed to be, but funny Ruth Buzzi who I always
had filial dago piety for an with. Plus Ruth, she seemed to be game enough to wear
a bikini or even a one piece too dame it up for the news, as the other one
doesn’t seem willing to do so, not that I feel slighted by it.
She was quite open and friendly to me, and this made me calm
down and be frisky to her and she was quite friendly and started to talk with
me. Here in this sad new Sicily they have invested which my mother taught me
about when rape victims with names and skin more like Joe Paterno than not, this
street corner girl told me she was set upon by three miscreants out to rape her
in the sad perpetually duchy town. There idiots were out to rape this girl there
in the abandoned left behind town. She like one of the smart princesses in
Calvino didn’t lose her head or get cursed as they did their share of Italian
woman as my mother warned me, as it was open season here in the cesspool once,
near black bar, she started screaming
ARAB TERRORISTS, ARAB TERRORISTS!!!!! AS SHE RACED TO THE EMPTY DEPARTMENT
STORE WINDOWS, as smoked these idiots, one of whom I knew by name as a wop
dimwit always hanging around the white trash hillbillies they were always
willing to be muscle for, the patristic of the black bar came out with brickbats
and stool legs and beat these fools spineless, and this made my Roman heart proud,
as welcome to the land of the sopranos dears.
As I could be a bitch and note that Martin Scorsese didn’t
get a Oscar nomination as a life time of mean streets was thrown away on a film
showing the Jews as almost as bad or at least as Mediterranean as the
sicilaians are, a total lack of decorum, or at least a lack of canine decency
to bite the hand that barely fed you. They did give an nomination to Mel
Gibson, wow!--showing all was forgiven, yeeeeeow are you in for it, Marty, but don’t
say I didn’t warn you, it seem to be all I do. Death of Brutus. If only you
kept your black arts to trashing your own fathers race, Though my father did
tell me his family was in fact Jewish, causing again that rabbi who didn’t like
him or Copollla to say as I said befire It would figure, and guess this year was good as again another
ruin falls to the sorry earth, as they openly snicker at Tom and if this year’s
sourball, sorry Super bowl, will be the
one where one man can somehow equal the output of the Dallas cowboys, who have been winning since the Johnson administration
that one man can equal that in fifteen years after being caught cheating in multiple occasions going back to the Roman letters,
this supwerbowl will be 51, written L 0ne, and thus sounds like superbowl Lie,
can anyone here play this Roman game, as signora Fortuna wll get her hides, kids. As a minuet
that’s showed who and what we are came true in Tatcius fashion, perfect for the
peacock now changing its colors, or maybe when youu think about it, maybe not
so much, kiss that frog, as I have to
wonder what Hollywood it will be that will promote us all, and be the keepers
of the flames of this republic, will it be the one that gave us the Sopranos or
the one that gave us the Homeland , or after all will it even matter as the memos
go out, as after all we have to do business with Trumpy, a Cattline who after
all, like Caesar said too old queer jew Marcus, could give bribes while Hillary
was putting the arm, on the rich consenti just once too often. While the kiddies ahd
their latest weekly prom and did their
screeds, within reason, lest the Jewish money men in new York and wary yet the
in laws of Anglican banking heard something too close to not being willing to
shut that golden door in a moments notice as the Knesset once was amusingly
when again they held the whip the answer to all polemics, and any wayward Arabs blowing up fags say
would be laied at Barry’s feet and now, who cares, without power, what is
America but a rumor after all. I CAN smell this bit of Mediterranean courage
and decency. While at this bloated gala, and this self loving was, an Arab
weirdo shot up a Masque in Canada but did like the Sopranos and Copula have taught
the niggers, made sure they point their guns as far far away from where any Jews
are giving their laughing giggling bags of rhinnoplasty door prizes for whatever I spit on your graves
they had to make to keep their pools. As I warn you now beloved Arabs, if you
think you’ll ever really be allowed to live anything down, remember to learn
how to take a joke, as from the always there giggling cretins and creeps and
fat girls, always recall that laughter is the best medicine, or poison depending
in how much detergent blood or soap flakes they put in the well water.
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