19 June 2017


I managed despite everything to get out all I had to when I had to, but since told by some house coon witch that my work would nobly be acceptable to her if  I had a record, something has gone  out of me pretty much, and could sense any boomlet of mine was widening down, as am one-step above  being lectured too about ‘the art of comics’ by thugs who think Jack Kirby is their own private Caravaggio.

But a gal who asked me to do #DEM BONES last July when people willing to tear up the constitution now, were then on cable television with  fish eyed blonds speaking on  how mother Hubbard loved war and niggers were screeching about the crime bill, nomo scordi mae, she emailed me in the middle of the week of Shakespeare in the woods and asked Tony, didnt you….why yes I SAID, AND she told  me her magazine, a radical flysheet  rabble rousing newsletter would pay me for expenses in getting from Pittsburgh to New York to see this miscarry of Roman theater,   as I can recall when was lectured to about what a highline I danced on by alluding to Barry as Queen Dido, who only commits suicide as Hannibal and coloreds often do. Speaking of which, is there something about that name that predestines never seeing things through… That was too much as even lesbians on War inc patrol wanted the secret service brought in every time someone made him the Joker, which I thought was a waste of time cry, as the Joker always to me summed more devoted than this nigger would ever be.

I asked my brother who have to come as Audrey told  me New York would eat me alive, no Rhoda Morgenstern, up, and he said, no way would he go any were near that shit, as now he said wittily its the liberals who are burning crosses, as the priests warned him, even before I. The very next day, someone got on the stage, tres Roman, again quit playing with fires you don’t understand, in-laws, as the anger on your side is hennaed up and bought and the anger against you is real, soo my money this time isn’t on Bill Clinton, if in fact, he as  any money riding on this at all.  I was glad to see the criterion these thugs and fags goy  hurled out, as yelling at the roman wall, how glorious was that to see an angry theatergoer, oh so very La Scala, be that  thing that George Pill and his pressed into  service champions, ah  the  too tall for gummnnit work Bushed queers,  yell at the queens of theater, who thought they were just soo grand essaying the diminution of wops that is behind there alas best Klansman and college try litanies. I said this story, the Romans stories, as I dent hear nay colored chicks screaming about cultural appropriation did you,but as I asked one cow,  who thought shed start with me, ever wear jeans dear...? , because the Italian navy never  saw a dracma from someone laughingly  named Levis. The Romans, though strip-mined by that fairy who I heard on Charley Rose invented the Sonnet, yes Fuuck yu to Mr. Petrarch, even without the ah at a the end you didn’t exist for the middlebrows, and the amazon head hunters, it isn’t like the noose, something you hold  the copyright upon anyway, and told  the gal, thanks but no  thanks. She asked me, it will probably be shuttered by the time you got there anyway, so will you write a sonnet of yours like Dembones about your experience on your Caesar which as I said, par for the course was much better.

She asked if I recount the whole thing as with the radicals all that Hillary does  disgusts them, why you are seeing backing away from ‘Resistance’ always a loaded war  analogy why the Interregnum war loving Bushes coined it, sorry Keith dear, back to sports for you,   as its  something as  fake a severe because I a bitch made sure all knew twas from that gamut of grave robbers, and believe me there are more than just Jewish cripples out there and radicals what don’t have debt to the folding money,  and believe it or not dare there are  people who hate George Will, I am forwarded Petitions to sign as if Id care,  Disgusted ,like say Jack Germando old liberal sorts, who wouldn’t be caught dead on that’s side, no matter how much war stock they do or don’t have.  Ahh the portfolio, in which having one was the divining rod, which told all Clinton what was liberal today. But what is important here and the only reason Ill do it as some are thinking  there thinking about letting me do something for them as said to one could make your heroine another Promythea if youd so like and they said looking  at my work, they have to think about it, as did too much and admired but still have a Roman work ethic in me, no matter what Al Franken thinks of them, as  what is impact here is why it was done or not.

In the late summer of last year, was asked by someone if could make Trump into Julius Caesar, but then I have  read that story since a boy and the Jesuits  again showing me water colored collocated magazines, no, not playgirl, but Jesuit magazines, in which two colored etchings were of noble Romans in ways the fat chicks hate, who rail against Fathers day, how lovely, again I was  hurling out Bad verses because of all of this when you lesbians were still jewingly in the base boards, hoping to blame Hilary eventual wars on Mother, and waited until you got the all clear dears,  so again dont fuck with me hunnies, in ways that would even make me ill, screech showing that when there is nothing you wont do, there  is no bottoms to sink to,  and the Busheis  and the lesbians deserve each other keenly, but the rest of us don’t. See, before Jon Stewart left, and Letterman too,  before they would bug out as I mentioned at the time, and would avoid a year of  sucking Hillary’s balls, they had already engendered to  make Trump INTO GUMBATATTIS MAXIMUS, the only sure slur and shorthand they were allowed, ah but this ship is sinking, and all the rats are taking the side  where the water isn’t, an oiliest put they were allowed, but again Steven and  Jewish alders boys who  hide their Catholicism have shown, like dishwater hags there is no bottom-land. No play within the Ovidian play, per chance, since we all smell of sulfur now.

But, as got a summer of work admired by people I thought would never ever come to me, Arabs, I hate the 300, lesbians, radicals. Etc.,  I called their vile Bluff, Romans don’t bluff, see  elsewhere, and made him, Trump Caesar, but not as a insult, really not as the creepy weirdo who made this play had to back away as you always must, don’t forget cry into the camera as it makes you look less monstrous, easily the best way to playthings America, if you don’t mean it… and in  five days, as is my want, the whole play was  written in full out beat camp, dullavlleahnnnn, really hep man, as I made a certify of it in not  just  modern dress as I said, in Mod dress,  as was just starting to re catch Perry before my television exploded, due to me seeing too much fake death and real on CNN.  So made  it very hep and as I said don’t bleed cool, as much as just be hep and a cat and mod I is, and took from jazzy noir Perry and unashamedly and admittedly from Mad comics who did something  similar in those halcyon days of the America  imperial high noon, before the Borgia showed up. I used Raymond Burr juts re seen then as the perfect Jesuitical Antony, Mackers as Cassgiusssh, The fault dear Brutuussss hissslllaaaaysssss ntiniur  sshhhhhartsbititsin ourshhhhevelhhhhhhhh, which was sad but funny to me as from all accounts CASSIUS WAS A FINE SOLDIER as Romans are want to be, and say what yew like of him, he never loosed the ropes, and was a bit of a prick, but didn’t spend a war in a box.  And this was no slavish retelling as it was Willie who we know stole whole passages from Metamorphoses for plays not even connected too it, much less in  midsummer’s in the Victorian twilight.

You barbarians and your Jewish In laws just loved avenging all things Roman and Italian, which is why this is all so funny to Puckish me, I cant wait to see you do to America the same measure of triumph you brought to Wisconsin, On wiconnssssionwsconnnsin, lets lose this more than once! Oh wilderness!, land of  Jewish  senators that Prairea to which the comedy writers in diaspora return. AS I SAW were this was heading, and called it, and made Trump the Roman buffoon you have adored as they had in Miles Gloriosus, but now with a  shtickle of meanness from the bald girlie  armed effeminates  and their manish hags who screech on command and dreamily silent when Roettenbereger does fathers day takes on the stillers channels and we all have to preen not to laugh. Well not me, Im a Cowboy, and am elated to bitch. So I will write the Last Liens of Caesar,  adding my best Vidal, as he said, to eviscerate is  such age war word, them hacks who once wanted  Lincoln to be a plaster saint before even  Steven Spielberg, who despite my admiration of him as a filmmaker, does lay on the American centurions as all great and wonderful thing too much, as heard he was thinking of actually doing the Gallery, FROM GORE'S SCRIPT, as he did Munich as if not to be even at least say an occasional word that maybe  as my mother knew, as was watching  Hogans heroes , or at least left it on while drawing bob the giant Robot, and the  English hack in this, Dr. Bombay I think, said something about who the English didn’t bomb pow camps,  to which my mother I thought deaf,  looked  up and said, with a snarl and a hand gesture meaning thrown shit, like Shakespeare It does sound better in the original Italian, yeah okay, say that on TV, but I was  there in Anzio, boy, where they bombed churches women shelled everything, but of course its war when its them. They now have to admit because of Gore too Lincoln no longer  being the saint walking about with the Mormon tabernacle choir around him, which is strange as he was quite the bigot abet various cults of christerism , would evocatively admit to his Machiavellian aplomb, which if that fishwife of yours loses again , dear  Bill…But what was important to me to recall in this that I will write and send out before the 1st I guess, is the reaction I got, as they were shocked that I schemed to have sympathy for Caesar, no more than Christ, anyhow, I always admire the Iagos and the Nicollos and don’t like the as I said, MLKS payer saints  and the Perpetaus of goodness who alas seem too be FBI informants anyway.  What bated them was the assassination scene, I figured all that they wanted anyway, as I was stealing from all the Italian giants. I made it an Ennio Morricone moment with Brutus, of course just like him an elite smipy silly Bushy Jebby, I have been the gal there noted, steeped in this in ways that Shakespeare fagot had  not, shoots him down in Once upon a time in the old Rome, extremis apart with a tommy gun worthy of Hank Fonda villainy sort, and they asked me, in echoes of George Lucas, where are the knives….?  I posted then about this, I had an inkling the knives  were  all they were really after,  as I  had an inkling that this revolution AND LESBIAN JAMBOREE  was the plan B they had all along,  if they had anything else. I had a feeling this was all about the knives, which why would modern, at least CBS era men use knives to kill a King, amid the Thunderbirds and the chrome…? As a gal who was nicer to me there than the ninnies and sissy above her, a first break in that wall that 400 senators would vote to lock when they need to, said to me, Tony to do this right, would cost more than any of the devoted here would wish to shell out anyway, which to me encapsulated the whole Life of Hillary in a nutshell. I told them I wouldn’t  touch Caesar if I was you, dirt bags, as Caesar shows what happens when you lose the Romans street…I didn’t need my Roman story told too me by that faggot  at Avon ding dong Avon  lady!- but I think the story you want is Coriolanus,  as I stated at the time and will get into later, as his disdained looking down upon the people and the plebes, was acutely what you are and what you think, would be more akin to a family of drunk drivers who all cant believe  they have too actually  get all the fools on the same, or any side, as it is anathema to those who have spent their Paralleled  lives making sure who doesn’t get in, as a way to make themslevs feel like they are as good as they suspect. Or Ill call my essay Up the Down staircase, Caesar as burlesque, or ….


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