03 January 2018

A SATURNALIA STORY.



part 1.

[with drawings actually accepted this year.]

2 dec17.


COMPANY.
                         

A gal in publishing who liked  my On the mountains of the  moon but  didn’t Want  to deal with the Harry Potheads it was obviously written against, told me that I was onto something , in that a major Magazine just  spiked a story about  Billy the kid in mid century, midlife, middlebrow middle soared  middle everything…seems like old times, but they were once doing this for him and not to him.

Ouch, this must hurt, as I’ve been wondering after this age of acrimony that Hilary is desperately trying to get ahead of, as are the Bushes by hoping like Hannibal to stay ahead of the elephants well, Orsuleophante…?, in abstainsia, this  is a  sad note, as it means the antimony ahs gotten into the well water and frankly now even liberals are daring asking what they got out of destroying Monica what with what does glass steigle  being gone really mean to me, ah, that second person that haunts narcissus. The cupboard I take it is bear and as a mother could have told the democrats don’t give it away, dears…You desolated the wrong Colbert Madam streiga…

As I have  been waiting for that next last hurrah as I told a gal eliciting some laughs, but no really, I want to see how well Bill can go from playing Zero in Plautus to being Elaine Stritch in a little night music. But you cant be Plautus forever even he tried his hand at epic, and like Virgil, enemies, teachers then yet unborn are always willing to do the bidding of that last Caesar, the broods of Sondheim, the clown replaced by a woman who got too soon old, as my buddy Pittsburgh Press newsman emeritus Phil Music would say, too late smart. I have till December 10 to get something out but am getting fatigued and am not sure i can do it, especially even with ray guns init. Poor Bill, having  an ultimate woman who lynched and  drag you to these depths as the Hollywood crowd are still in a blacklist and witch trial ,this time fine, this time okay, this time without a Marrow and all RFKS, our  Pusedelus trapped in the crucible,  and starting to blame  the wife for everything, his last bad third act. But am told I must be on face book or Twitter eeeeecccchhhhhhh…still want they art that some Pro Bush , Hillary was always just a prop, sent me back my  pages torn tobits, making my brother ask what kind of animals are you dealing with ,idiot…?, I wants my blue man to fly through newsprint skies. They is antipathy towards him as none else Ive done, as this year even got Romans centurions in Arab newspapers, --they never bought your Love of dancing Palestinians soon after 300, and am told outright that its about somehow, though legally now labeled as satire, as we label all, copyright infringement, yet not ms Mary Amazon isn’t, or that shazam of mine as it was called, and all that is somewhere , but this not, and am not acutely sure why.
 

Trying to make and enjoy a lovely saturnalia roman FESTIVAL FOR MY MA, as one thing that makes me unable to hate old Roman Bill despite it all as he seems to dissipate  before us, see you were complicate and who sued  that Aquinas line back when the trees were green and fled with sprites in the midsummer that like so much the crime families thought they takeaways from us next, in Monica so that could show your dirty wings, more than anything. But as I said, he couldn’t just say that he loved a famous artist, it was never Dante’s inferno, its WAS ALWAYS THE NEW LIFE .It wasn’t Ovid Metamorphoses it was always  Roman Festivals, it was Virgil’s Eclogues not the Aeneid , and it was the Tempest...by Eugenio Montale. Also see in a plastic sheathe in which all seven chapters of twelve of rag are packed by me after get them anywhere, too something I cant wraparound a stone and hurl through a window, is the pages which my Tolkien, BDD Crumbwhieght is immolated by a pixie named Beatrice …now that I thoroughly understand.




                                                                             


Im sorry but I cant quite be lectured to by the wronged box over here, as wonder how many Monica jokes did you clowns have to make...? In Roman farce , you can be a clown and then have a moment of clarity and wise ness and decency, as they often do, or even cry over your slutty wife, but you cant be a clown who is decent and noble and good all the time, because that just means you’re  heading for the biggest pratfall of all. As if  anyone thinks I don’t know what Im taking about somebody out there seems to playing ten little Indians and hates the same people I DO.As watching a Christmas marathon of Law and order  for no reason  than Mariska and the few that creep allowed a  pretty Italian girl named Annie Parisi in before she was woman in refrigerated, and no one cared, still I don’t believe our Lesbo duchy, not with every third commercial  showing batman and Barbie, both boring belly up when I was a Jesuit kid, in the same universe and I wont touch that with a ten foot pole. ...These cunts are why I WATCH DECADES AND  ANTENNA and free television, paying for television to me has an echo of  Gore Vidal’s line about how great America was before aids and Regis Philbin ,anyhow, the thing that I find I like watching on these channels is actual Talent, it mattered  once, now we get a constant admonishment, but from them who arose from a tale less crypt called comedy central, faggots and fat girls,  who was as sent by a Jewvenal  who was seen on TV, sent his minions out to harass an  Asian girl who dared ask, in Soprano land no less, why eh was allowed to ode Richard Liu, but again, don’t see dancing PLO negreos captains with brunettes,  now that the jesters tougher meaner kin are s are strafing as You knew they would Jeddah.


As what told me mach as the body count keeps rushing as always happens to anyone caught in a Bushman fiasco, was the day that Al Frinken, oh Lawdie, even my sketches are even Sibylline, spit his way out of dying senate they always do, as a inhumane Caphius, --I heard the shot he took not at Trump but at a roman host out there, who unlike he, was a boy WHO DIDN’T DREAM Of power, not like him, …oh you bitch! 


I fall for this each time, and someone told me couldn’t send in this picture pin ups 1962 as it was, and had to redraw it, as saw Corsetto seemingly having to do the same thing. Bt as I did it found myself feeling as big a sell out as Lucas, and even my Ma seeing this asked me why I was apparently destroying  this particular picture, that she came to much like, as sorry, what will destroy the No Bigger Cause of praetorians clowns we are not all levers  of Blond women. So did it as best as I could, stupidly having redone the original, always my first mistake, and not just a copy, as cant recapture at all ever this is,...but threw it all  aside, as I was watching  Al, Al Frinkens disparate attempt at again Playacting Plautus not being funny enough for emporium of farce, and watched the little Jewish hack and his farewell to the troops. 





13 dec 17.


I  WANNA BE A PRIDCCCCCUUUURRRR…



As literal saturnalia approached, really put on it there, especially  at night, as was actually my mother fell  ill, more than usual. She was upset and fitful, as had placed up a tree we had won at  a local supermarket so barely have we scraped by this year as its been tough, but the cesspool called a senate is trying to remove that carcass called Hillary still wrapped around it, as next year is after all, a good Roman year.

And felt badly for her actually, and hoped very greatly she didn’t go off, as it would be sad to think both of my parents died at Christmas time, ironically as much as anything a Roman time against a dark savage age of bluenoses and circus haters  and white miss Grundy’s who fear sex, as if anyone wants any of it from them, but then Machiavelli said the weak think of nothing but power, the ugly think of beauty ,the incompetent think of only smarts , etc, etc...

I think she was poisoned by the fish she demands we eat now, as it was after all a another Roman holidays of the ten tenth month that was all baled together in a massive holiday which again Medveed and David Brocks refuse to acknowledge a Roman sprig of as Tennessee Williams is after all dead and I feel like shit myself. We flushed her with as much water and vitamin c and coffee as she was dizzy and out of it, I but stayed  up with her here in the dark and was with her, on watch  as much as anything, keeping eye on her, monitoring her, feeling both sad and queasy, watching the old shine of a golden age Carson, the Virgil ghost of this year.  These were shows, amid other shows that defined this festa to me as they did as a boy, and I sat up with her while she was getting somewhat better and I SIGHED A BREATH OF RELIEF AS she smiled up at me and held my hand, with her smart and clever eyes, to sue a word used against me by Copula and his perpetual Jewry in-laws as they dream like all niggers of spitting down  from the prosecution table, as my love of both Bread and circus and Perry mason is beyond their imperial karts.

Again, had seen enough of a casket decorated Christmas onceAnd  which is why I never called to Leslie playfully again. As I may not out and out love my father, and have my trouble to this day with him and his want of me to Clintonian prostitute myself and get ahead with that sense to detail that was  a Georgetown scholarship, But I am Roman enough to have decorum. I know Barry thinks decorum is for suckers, as it must be a burgeoning well Christmas out there, as he still trying to as bad habits die hard, get his cut ah, but the Hillary coven bark but the caravan moves on dears. Some one please tale miss Focohauntus, the next time you want a president inflicted upon America, you and Larry David, don’t call the bitch a racist and snore at her on Valentines day,  and then pretend you are some sort of Sejanus, …





I sat up with her, my mother, as certainly couldn’t watch that three headed Cerberus of fools this night, not this soon after saw the ghost of Johnny  from Superman the movie days. As this time the tree was a supermarket giveaway, a market find, green and not that big but in a land that was admitting in the Jewish times last year at this time that almost 300 percent more people were living in poverty now as Barry the bombardier of Mangus leptis true to settele a bill and find more buckshot than he would have thought, and no Rachel dears say a word about it. Our ham didn’t get free trade through, us that a demerit in Kramden yards..? Again, MY BROTHER KNEW WHAT TO DO BETTER THAN GIANT PUSSY ME, BUT,I   HAD CALLED OUT TO GET SOME HELP FOR HER, AND EARED A CELL PHONE TO CALL THE HOSPITAL  if need be, sad that that cheap wall mart fish had again smeared a holiday. I  did set up though and didn’t go to bed , and watched, as she did, 2 broke girls at 11, that comes in if the Turk antennae is just so or against the window, but then 22-4 and Crow and Because science won’t come in, but left it as it was. Missed I thought, the decades channels cop show and comedy binges at they had year ago, seemingly deviated to what’s called lost television and must if it should have stayed that way as showed the dreaded Betty White before  she was made blond and lover of square Allan Ludden.  We stayed up, and there was of all people as went through the channels avoided big that awful relic called the tonight show, or the show on cbs which was better when was still old Kojacks. There, on  a free movie station was my beloved Zero, as Max Bialaistock, producer extraordinaire , and one of the best  personages on film, up there with Bob Blake in In Cold Blood, and George Scott as Patton, as the best exemplar of the Hollywood producer, especially now, that has ever been.





Bernie: Shhhwweethardt,the fiost thing they teach yas in wahr politcis and Coicus is how ta read a freaking Map. 
                           
The real Tonight show has been in a 1979 kick lately, around that time, as recall when these were first on, and they seem more like a real tonight show than that shit that is prepared by the clowns of mars now. As these days of cold war Carson, the word superman keeps summing-up, and Johnny one interviews the handsome Roman godlike Christopher Reeve, a name attached too the strong man since I was a boy and longer before whose name denoted and connoted the reeves of previous days. We were little boys once, we now knew was at the end of this imperial Rainbow, as he as the effect Superman was as was Lynda the prefect Diana in so  many ways, and even Johnny stands there with NBC studio toys and set  piece then,  our parietal youth, with a  mego superman in his hands.  I set up with my under the weather, to put it mildly, mother, but stayed my Roman watch for her in case she dived downwards. But sat in the dark that was made all the more  serenely festive by the winkling  lights n the Penumbra that was hat supermarket tree. I think she didn’t want tow catch Perry mason, and its orison Noir colorations right  now, though he sees him as a Forbo Chabubo, a clever fat man, and Della is the exemplar of the stylish woman of that first  emancipated age, as is much, eventually goes to white perverts as it always has in every curaia that ahs rolled down a seventh hill. She was a bit out of it from a poisoning, and my brother raced to the local drugstore, as she asked only a Pharmacist’s opinion did mom. Doctors are equally now doing the bidding of death dealers and death cult unmarried white women, the ones  who  expect you now to cry for them, while men were sent into a piratical war, corpse men as the doge called them, not noticed, intoed, you too cry nore for  women who somehow learned theirs Curilattte from the men tenet their beloved once and no more Bill Clinton, whom she dispraises,  she cant stand anymore and thus they’ve all became so sanctimonious that we all became ill. She trusts, as says don’t call any ambulances, or shell hurl herself off the steps before she is allowed to be warehoused to die like so many. Laugh, but that very word was amusingly used by a drunkard liberal pol as seen on tv, for whom  somehow, as with democrats and stealers the pussy patrol is alarmingly unblood thirsted. It may seem outrageous, however that very word was used to explain democratic policy by human spittoon Chris Matthews who auras is showing what a delta house without Josh Mostel much less Belushi was a fairytale we  were all handed the last few years.




He raced to the CVS as she considers doctors merely a form of Grave robbery, much alike the Bush family. While there he told me some asshole came up to him blathering about the kingdom of God, the last thing he wanted to hear about, and almost physically shoved him away causing his buddy the pharmacist, to ask that holy card  bullshit piquing zealot leave his costumers alone. He told the man at the counter what she had  eaten, what she might have eaten, and he told him  to  make sure  she flushed hers  system well, if she got worst, not matter what, get her  to a hospital no matters what she said, and quickly, but see if  she may just  have some indigestion brought on by her having fasted before Candelara, --saturnalia--,which was, like say Jewish Chanukah array, Medved and rest of  the Jewish in laws, was a extra biblical festival of lights eerily like an Etruscan December holiday, as of course the Jews were always the foist to mush to Rome, as messiahs like to know what Caesar is always really in charge. I kept her as comfortable as I could, and not bullshit Bill Clintonville but really and honestly was as Roman as I have ever been, no womanish panic of  the  way that brunette rapists have shown Italians the last 40 years ,as it turns out that a marcher with an eye to Rape brunettes, and who was pilloried for that remark, ..?,  as we hear from Salma Hyack today about the pig, whose bright and smiling face was shown revert in that rag, as like Cattiline , Trump was eerily shown, like OJ, in colors all black, not that it ever helps. But it is telling when they use dark as a pejorative at Berel tower  as it shows from where they ave all sprung at the beer garden at the armamentarium, as Tip  one fore at the Rock, ...mmmmmmmmy willlllllddddd irsssssssuuuuhhhhhh Rrrrroooooose,---hey craze....!,



I keep hearing from Frank Sinatra Jr Junior that white woman lesbians have ruled the day, but as I said, as was seated here in the dark punctuated by a staccato of little colorful eteric light, still see as watched law and order only for Mariska, see commercials for barman and Barbie  in the same universe and boy could I commence on thattttttttt…

She now summed better, and started talking in short blue streaks, tiredly but in a kind of mantra  taught to her by the nuns, which  made me relax from a more stoic Roman outlook dare I have to mare this holiday by carrying her out. I was somewhat proud of myself as I watched her as he raced to the drugstore, the place that used to be Revco, as he wont go to the hereby Walgreen’s as they have a cahier there, a pleasant enough girl , but  who seems to like mister Sinatra, Ronan’s dad, have a cold, which he wants  no part of. I was no woman about this. She says she saw people and shadows on the wall …no, literally said she saw shadows on the wall, as is afraid more than ever that she didn’t so much cross an ocean but the mere straights of messina, and is in a thievery inferno called Sicily, where there is no respect for anything or anyone, including as the Clintons can attest, a bribe, and men kill soldiers and policemen with impunity, the hall mark of dying medusa island empire of muck.

She was scared, but I reassured her there were just Christmas lights outside, tree lights, saturnalia lanterns, not sirens, though the season started with a cop getting killed only a few streets away by someone who thought in Obamanation, that the democrats don’t weep more cops than they do for their killers, a s to Palazzo everyday is Columbus day, and no one cries for the killers of BART cops, not when the festival of multi- fish are here. I consoled the old fried aged   little girl near me, whose county she said was bombed to rubble,  by Jim crow rednecks making the world safe for Jewish intermarriage, within reason, and who were tasking ever reaches  as gleefully taking the votes of  Klansmen, who they made pacts with, she tells me, as she calms down, as did the fathers, don’t ever think that they didn’t, don’t believe the Irish cunts and white chicks, they’ll make a nigger as the brethren said for me not to forgo my Italians MARTIAL SOUL AND NOT BE ONE OF THEIR LIVING JOKES.. THEY WOULD hang anyone, including Italians, take that Pigmeat, to stay in Power, if not get their names on vainglorious cemented various buildings.




I felt badly that’s somewhere to big ht those raping over sexed scumbags  at Nation Biscuit Companies and world wide Lauers are en force more than not, an there story breaks about Buccigross and Herbstreets, the former literally Big Kiss, as in were off, we are amid a good wholesome decadent  witch trail, as shows the weakness of Jews when white woman are involved, know your place, nothing my father and the priests didn’t warn me of, but then, women make you, as  they warned me, stupid. I felt bad that a instigator, you can bring back your words, Ill bring back mine, a stoker ace of  all this , Jew Froed Foxy herself KEAPENDINK,  THE BIZZARO MONTANA,  now seen in a commercial with beloved brunette KATERINA, worth of the name in wasy I always knew that bloated blond hag weren’t, --shameless Haaaavvveyy on line 2 Kat—that the instigated a lot of this type to his wop creed, all Sicilians  hate cops, you know why, and  smothered it with afro sheen, was upset he says openly that white woman were on the cover of Time,--watch out!-- and don’t you forget it Guido, know woppish placed like Christie, and know who pass ahead of you, always. As what bated me, as even my fascist mother little girl under Mussolini, who dared be true to his Roman roots, that’s a no-no, couldn’t believe that a police state like this actually allows its waterside niggers to play at being gangsters the point that they kill cops, but wake me when its nine o’clock as Ted Baxter said, as I said to admiration by liberals all year , I wanna watch SWAT. Yell your nigger boards before they try so desperately to make Trumpo into a 20's  president,  do recall that a crime bill was signed by a dancing  pig from hot springs who put more  per capital people in jail in the nineties than Mussolini did when still an American ally, you see those camps didn’t matter yet…so,…remember that, dear , as at any moment you too can lose a job to a shicksa, as when they say they don’t like brunettes, you’re first on that list.


So, sat there with my mother  I spied  up as we gave her the medicine he bought at the store, a medicine she  usually avoids, she this time took,  as its amusing what hearing the angels can do to that creed, which is why I don’t  tryst  any passavate family so enamored power, that lets a son die with a death bed utterance that he wants pops to do his due dalliance to keep those Ozarks pimps out of a Praetorian, in a scene worthy again  of More Puzo, lineally Puss, than anything LIVY, but then I’ve never hid  my life of VIRGIL in the detergent blood and always there squibs. I SAT THERE AS SHE BECAME MORE CALM, I did wish death on Keaperndick, and various others,  it bothers me Scorsese has outlived all those Jesuit you let  die of aids or a father who said his son was a Roman centurion kin, as did  GORE VIDAL, WHICH ALWAYS BOTHERS THE JEWS WILLING TO MAKE THOR MOVIES AND NOT WINCE. Oh, look whose drunk now, and looks whose using the workplace  as a singles bar, Jemelle, dear, and sat there, going through the few channels we have, as the prices of the new cuty take away as many as they can, but Im never paying for Cable until Anderson Copper  dies of adis and lives or dies out his Death in Venice creed. But there,  on the national bisect company had the ruins of something once called the Tonight show, but starring now one of the three headed Cerberus who alas share a brain or at least a flight plan, and whatever you do know that fat one is a good liberal, and cares so much now that doesn’t have to have big titted cunts dance for peanuts,  as then credo of America is that we all move up a slot. 

He, was Jimmy 2, like bizarro, was laughing and dancing away, was this amazingly un hectored as was Leno, heir to Carson, or so he was according to some sow on WGN until he I don know didn’t want to assassinate Trump or something, as god knows you spics aren’t as stupid as wops and don’t allow anyone to say you have Orange skin. As usually was so affable and smiled so broadly and giggling so heartily, the mask of real meeeeeannnnnnnnn drunk, I am the auger, and as my brother said, dances naked on Jonnies old desk,  and just cracks up insensate a dumber version of Harvey Korman.



He giggled away dolefully, it made me wince, but my mother looked up and said, Mae, qye a qesra sempri Rede…? He’s the new Tonight show ma, that’s all he does is laugh.  A pretty girl was on, a lovely Brunette with Capotes areola of tobacco colored hair around a pixies face, and leggy a dress slit up to there. Que Bella Ragazza, my ma said, watching through wet and tired eyes. The pharmacist told me to shut the over head lightsome the lamps, but don’t leave her in the dark, keep on the tree and the TV so shed acclimate but don’t leave her in the dark. She was pretty and the only reason I was watching.

But this was no Paar like Tonight show, this was the tonight show what  carcass it became, it was a ruin, as  a boy all three men who started the tonight show, Allen, Paar, and Carson all has shows on TV, Paar on Westinghouse,  and Allen had a meeting of the minds with he talking to the likes of Da vinci .So can one imagine how many times Steven Colbert would say Ullllmmmn Eahhhhhhhh, uuuummmmn, with Michaelangelo there reciting out of Roman diaries. It couldnt be as many as he did with Lauren  Graham, hes a bit perturbed amid the women who don’t genuflect well. And, much less that CBS shit where a man who sent out minions too trash an Asian co ed with death threats and thinks assassinating a president will make him more like Matt Helm, and less like a fag, but this petty girl wasn’t giving us stories akin to a Dotty Goodman or Herminie Gingold, or starlets who have danced about the tonight show as wood nymphs since Robin Good fellow or at least Morey Amsterdam, no she and others were here, playing Charades. My goodness. What is this…? New Rocshell…? I sat there only catching her, see Jesuitical warning above, and this smiling dork who said, this is the Tonight show, yeah you wish, and I wondered how we got to this place and how we got here, as this is what happens when you allowed the Clintons to live out an Edward Albee play we are all imprisoned in.  Isn’t it funny, no one is there to hector this marionette out of a job, like they were with Leno, who had the decency to not say he was starring in so soon after Carson, ah but shamelessness is Dr Evil calling card, and so, he now runs NBC LATE NIGHT, with three shows that avoid Roman satire with all their might. I felt bad enough watching this silliness as my mother was precariously seated there and swallowing the kind of ad hoc medicine that italics have been having to use under various doges, but which can get both the periapts of left and right and lesbians and Bushie conservatives, both Patty and Lamaaar to join hands and praise the Oligarchy. Then, in a  moment worthy of Tacitus, again  some white chick at the vineyard defamed me for my spelling, until said it was out of the copy of Chaucer  in Italian I have ohho,  that when they dissipate like hot wind, I saw the moment of the season.

No, no singing cardboard boxes as the ELVISH earth foresters are all gone, DID WE SAY WE ADORE TREES LIKE DRUIDS…?…SHIT  NIGGER, PUT THAT AMAZON PACKAGE DOWN BEFORE I SHOOT! OH I saw the moment of the Romans season, again not that dancing PLO captain here to take your unloved brunettes away, don’t touch the blonds, you or Franken, I saw the moment that said everything. Me and a PhD I knew named Alan who looked me very much would read the passages of Machiavelli as if it were a holy  writ  and who says it isn’t, as I was using his and Aquinas epigrams of complicity when the trees still here and pixie filled  in midsummer, as harmed Hillary tries to get more  pity from that Turnip, but just shows that you don’t as I said, eat a pig like that all at once. I saw a commercial for a Christmas charity for veterans, will send them something, as avoid the usual suspects with their hands out, and like Jones, who suddenly has a whole new audience for his madness here in Pittsburgh , ahahahahahahaha, call it Dez’s revenge, I make sure to throw  any left over coin at the red kettle that means Christmas to me.

After this silliness and that other cunt ON A BIGGER CHECK, where that Hazel must keep apologizing as she cant keep even her leis straight, much less her cockeyes and jowls, I  saw a commercial for a man with no legs, like the proverb as al proverbs that people think came
From the bible, always are unfailingly Juvenal.









As he came out of a wheelchair, and was with his little girl. This is the results of the reign that these two crime families started with  their pastoral war for perpetual  profits ,as Pax a gal tells me, has nothing to do with it, no, this is the end of thr ratio of power you have crated  carted, barbarian horde, this is your dearest, this is your soot from magna Gracia and magnus Lepits, ah the slur , this is your Pax AMERICANA, this is your love, love, love horse shit and relatives of praetors  who have been disarray-ed for worse than Nixon ever did, he was no Rapist, and didn’t have GHB, already a felony, and did I actually hear that other jabbering simpleton to trash Roy  Moore  for the casa da Frinken, Ma if I bring home Capone or Jolson , its AL, a large man who one might have been quite the Bull, an analogy that I think medved or some Jew for Jesus  made abut David and the man he was related through his Stepfather, hummmmm. Here was some bull in the imperial feuds was reduced to cripple, fuck your white womanish euphemism, its like Guido and a waste of time, was reduced to  this. A man once probably quite vigorous and soldierly was ruined into this for fake wars that dints seem, like bombed hospitals to bother anyone was much as winking at some office chick,  with portfolio or some cunt who wants to write for clowns on abs cbc nbs cable, so again, your smiling clowns I think and am the auger will get what they’ve got coming. I saw this soldier left as a stump a sa ruin by your perpetual wars  so fine now with meathead and lesbians and others who are paid to not notice men without legs, they must dredge up ghosts of Vietnams to be acrimonious about things, ah another of your good wars, forget the Gooks, Bomb the arabs,and youll be good again, as in films about the father of Gallipoli as  Harvey barks but the holidays and slavery movies continue unabated.




I sat there in the darkness as my mother seemed to get back some ease. I sat there, so they don’t allow the discouraging  word at gates called face book  chastened in ways those crime family button-men  who dream of power as openly as wives cant image they were so municipally demeaned for nothing, put Aquinas quote here while Bill oggels the new first lady as he never ahs enough. But knowing of Machiavellian morals to know they will as always happens in dying republics will get theirs as Sicilians always do. I was quiet there in the strange festive shine of these little bulbs on a fake tree. I had heard some cunt in some football factory, remember connive to get Sabine in the reverie, the  absurd just loves him!, bitching about Jingle bells and the minstrel show that all comes from, according  to them who stll are allowed to use slave labor for their blood sport, but remember were doing playoffs on New-years day this year having heard from our alumnus…I felt chastened  in ways  no Hillary apparatchik ever can, as am not a woman, or worse yet, an attaché, and couldn’t sell myself to the doges of Georgetown as didn’t need or want to sue them as a way out the Mud pits and hot springs. Thought of the line from Terence and thought this image of thus broken soldier so Roman amid these laughing twats and clowns of mars, made me  feel sadness , the sadness that is the circus, and saturnalia, too as Crow the robot says.




I was diminished by seeing a second of this smiling hoodlum, doing  his scat dance and his charades and his attempt at a sixties life, down to the set of Googie Sarnoff play set, it make his tipping seem all the more direly and enjoyable. Go have a swig for me, Rummy, and  heres hoping that Niccollo was right and that even a sky filled with angels cant stop the drunk from falling  down the flight  of steps that has his name on it…or was that Bill Clinton…? I couldn’t watch another bit of this idiot after that  tacitus moment of imperial farce was shown,  hilarity laughing and dancing and giggling while sweating rye, while men died in whatever alps that imperial crime families sent them to, and cant forget that as willingly as can someone who is fored from a frathosue like espn as they trash statues of Patreno and singsong of decent coloreds so well. My mother, looked up and said to me,  told me, I feel better, but I stayed there as she dozed off watching  of all people my beloved Roman ghosts ,now thers a host, Lorne, Zero Mostel as the ultimate producer, fat and porcine and lovable  and georgics  and there’s  our  Hittttttlahhllllhhhhhh!, a Zero, a Plautus from a sweeter kinder age, when shamelessness wasn’t so en Vogue. Going Vogues. I was glad my mother  went to sleeps as Itried not to laugh too hard at Zero and the egart Gene Wilder, and why didn’t Mel, here at his best before gave into too kitch to mad magazine like broad parody, may we use such a as  I’ve been told incensory word, well what don’t you barbarians set  fire to…?, again watch that Magnus Leptis shit, wop, with the twelve chairs a comic master piece, Dick Shawn more…? I sat there and watched this, as know the roman in that broken man as they had before would and could approve in ways that wouldn’t make them sick. As for the 1000th time in a thousand Years, I, a good Roman, wished ill on all the swells, in a saturnalia they never see coming ,maybe only Bill, one they look downspin and yet, I know again for  a thousandth time, they’ll get theirs like they always do. I was glad my mother didn’t die on Saturnalia and is back to being okay, as an Arab gal in one of these pages sends me a clip of Bill ogling Melania, and all that life he still repents to the fat little boys and how and what happens when Grandma sees this, and say, he feels the same way about the Republic toots, is what you never understood. I am glad to know that ma is better, as didn’t want to deal with such a thing again, as did in 1985, and which made me ever from the eternal childishness of comics just when it was beginning  to take hold, as didn’t have to deal with Tinsel that had been marred by embalming fluid, which after all might be as Gore said, the only thing that makes Hillary’s fever break ,and which, after all, might be her husbands anniversary gift to her, should she not quickly understand the secret histories, or at least the laws of farce.  








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