02 March 2018

Dried Leeves.







                       
1. As placed my Ma, as she got stronger, to bed for the night, I sat down there and stayed up with her a while, as the television shined away. We were watching Will and Grace, and she was watching along, not impressed, as since John Horne Burns the Italians aren’t new to a tolerance of fags as are Reuben’s, in laws republicans, and cnn must do now, as we don’t recall that only a little while ago they were keeping queens out of bathrooms quite eagerly and had queens thinking it was still 1992 and they were against gay marriage, after giving and fomented this crap, but those where the days my friends, of openly raping Brunettes then, too.


On to the screen came the bubbly and just starting to lose her sweetness as always happens, miss Mullally, in a red sweater and Della Street like inseam that was quite fetching an lovely .My mother, a fashionista literally since Mussolini, The kind of  expert seamstress on  Italian soil that is used as slave labors lost for Valentino to make the praetorian colored shamata that are sued by red head aging starlets now their angst at various cotillions of powers. She saw this, gal and said in Italian  ,had to tell a  lovely gal who, like speaks Italian all the Calabrase I know is wrapped up in  arguing with Dora, she said,  seeing this lovely woman, ah questa a una bruna Simpatachi, and then,  in English, she strangely said, Now, I know why we are watching this shit. Somehow, she using the witchcraft she has, sensed a show about a Jack hating his mother and like Obabama, that is something the old lady cannot forgive. As used my truest Latin heritage to tell some hag who has sunned decided the word Brunette’s an anathema , you know now that Hillary died as sharks do, we are all suspects and well, brunette is a word am saying that has always bothered the Jewish ish in-laws and good lesbians like she is, and told the cunt, Brunette has nothing to do with  the color brown, but is from the ancient italic word ,like senate, meaning something else,  it means Plum, why they wore purple ribbons that became the purple sashes that I knew would ALAL FUMBLE AWAY.  A brunette was a Roman girl whose hair shined like Virgil’s dark and sweetest plums, as I said to another gal’s amazement. I made sure she knew as gets her glossary of terms from whatever policy hacks as the ones just  now thinking to put the kibosh on gun control talk, cowards pray at the moon, ah the belief that need not speaks its name, in an election year, I told this hag that Brunette, like so much, meant a thing that heroes if hers like Maureen Dowd couldn’t skeeball and high ball,  and ballpark, neither could Word, as again told the lovely gal who accepted my work lately, I know just enough Latin to depress Americans.

Another dimwit went native recently and killed off a bunch of students a few days ago, but strangely sense that circus all America ahs come is really Sunset Blvrding this, this time, as opposed to when fags died in silent, hey just like when Bubba and Bush ran the first time. And deliciously, was done by a pale queen named Cruz, again showing you gumbajews that what ever you thought Italians let you get away with, as long as  two bit penny ante, penny arcade Orpheum wops like martin got their fedoras and hats and coats, the other noble savages wont. He seemed willing to say he was living by a creed more Americana than anything Oxbridge relic Rachel would call creepy Latin, in this saw an auguring like Limbaugh calling Aquinas purple to Bug big eyes, that we were all in real trouble from the armamentarium newsboy legion, lets see what you think of that made language when the Subpoenas come for you, hunnie, so, let me get this straight ,you can be on line for hours talking about being a shooter but don’t mention a two time loser  like grandma Hillary...ok. Like Bill Clinton at the Christmas party. This nation, the nation of Bill Clinton seems so very rather sanctimonies fir some cesspool that only seemingly a few years ago was a minstrel show of Monica and the Sopranos and Kordell, so please, again, no lectures from epsn niggers seemingly glowering in a fight between Jerrah and lunkhead for life Gödel. BUT SEE JUTS LIKE WITH RUMORS THINK YOU ARE CICREO, you have overstepped your bonds and recall the line of Caesar, to that gumbajew from the weeds who though a young Roman commander of the Julia Ian clan was next to be targeted in his hit parade, Old man, Marcus ,the brilliant egotist told the elder faggot, another of whom machinated as Jews and rednecks in laws, do to avoid barracks, I, as can Trump and Jerreah, can only give bribes and you, like ninnies at ge who see a double digit slud in winter games ratings, can only take them. So, Got some gals giving me accolades for my wrote-ins about Tonight show Saturnalia, have parts two and three penciled in some places, as may be accepted ABOUT THAT sadness about a tonight show starring as Cassius toothy, smart alekey, midnight Jews, always be casting, or worse than that doing charades, and valentines to Megan Mullally, again, the dumb Brunette was the stupidest political idea since the ides of march.

So sat there in these dark winters’ nights, watching television as hadn’t in many years as there nothing better to wean one of television watching than having cable. And saw sadly that in this time of being without a Della, that character actor emeritus, the grand ethnic Irishy great actor John Mahoney had passed. This was sad, but he must have been in his 80s by now, but  will always recall his work as subtle and bright at as it was in a fabulous best sports movie ever and thus never in any epsn lists kept for baseball comedies and Scorsese monochrome, strange  diminutive hagiography of vulgar dago boxers, the terrific 8 men out. Which, when I  heard they would remake that, like the big chill was the tepid Return of the Secaucus seven, that I saw at15, thought why would you even try  without a John Mahoney, as , as Kaminski’s field general and so innocently  and sadly lost, a stand in the Italianate way  of comedia dell arte, an AMERICA THAT WAS LOSISNG IF EVER THERE,  as the un paid gladiators, or as close as baseball comes ,were throwing  games, his Irish stoic us vs. them ethic, almost Roman, this was beneath a Roman contempt, a Trojan horse, to his sad old eyes, as he lastly caught on, ah a film about a Jewish gangster throwing games, something’s are sacred even to the dirty Sicilians, how did that get made in Scosreseland..?, and slightly drunken decency was put to a test and he played t like a champ, down to the money shot of that  movie, when asked what he thought of these pool hustler players, the suckers that America has been build on, so please, no niggers at war inc. telling me about white privilege, maybe you’d best bring up the unchosen of ham at the next democratic national committee meeting, not with  what has been said to me as a boy about my fathers race  for 40 years, and that Rachel Maddow doesn’t exaltedly look like the bull dyke professor in thirty something do she now…?  He, as the manager of a team banned by a company man for God that’s, as my father called it, Puritan forest, and country the Jesuits warned me of, usually gay, Mahoney as stand in for America, says as touching as anything ever put on screen, I think they are the best damn ball club I’ve ever seen. Ah but the American  dream was that Kaminski’s would rule the earth ,at least until they could get the tenements  to vote for them, now and pick pennies worthy of a shylock, like Brunette another word the in laws like to pretend they never ever were, and suddenly so sanctimonious now as Bill seems to be receding into history, look whose Brutus now, Oooouuuuuuuuuchhhhhh!, wont forget our tributes, Geeerrrrggggge, that’s her brother  Geeeoorrrge, and that the man whose shameless tightness caused reused cigs in the dugout, would in the golden door eventually have a field named for him while as famously adhere, a man who hit  400 would be one of your usual probably innocent, its no fun if Germanicus isn’t a traitor, may be just surviving isn’t as roman as you convinced yourself it is, Bill, Pariahs.



2. So  as I was with Stepanie Kramer who was used in the tower of Buhrl as a next brunette byte monstrous Silverman be potshot taker in three company rip off anyway, too vulgar even for American television, and how she got Hunter and in actually compared to some of his work, and be on an inoffensive I thought, pallid flaccid show called Frazier, who again, like Kelsey Grammar and glad again he took a thankless role as the nebbish to make the white girls root for Sam and Diane to get together, ah don’t we all love being told love conquers all in the writers room, and that he too parleyed that into a good healthy run. 


So, watched it now as hadn’t all summer when could see it, and at this point, again a show I didn’t watch then, it seems Seinfeld brunette number4, the Virgo, an English gal, one whose cockneyism and noisiness meant I think LIVIA AND CLEOPATRA WERE OFF THE TABLE, but who might play a good Catherine, as all white girls think they can since QUEEN VICTORIA made her Bones on that shrew and stomping over her. With the strangely Ovidian evocate name of Daphne Moon, wow, could think of the brunettes at that time could have glide this ere better, as saw on BBC replays as a boy, the woman who’d play Livia pm IC, play Catherina aint a trite Taming of the shrew and who did a better job than old Meryl did as one could hear Ariosto pitching sadly please don’t stomp on the daisies. This Dafne is a bit closer to Kipling than to Ovid, Hats off!, a sad Manchester like vagrant retelling of italic plays but done by drunken soccer lads, bent scarier thugs, who think they write to begin with, and she exudes nothing, a dry piece of paper kept in a plastic sheath as I do, but nary a great curve drawn on it. She is like the other here gal, what brunettes are to white women and their subject husbanded Jews, dishwater in everyway, piss poor, brownish, what a white woman would think of the word Brunette should be replaced by Brown-haired person for, as if no woman not image to can have black hair, the kind of black that sheens blue as seen on Etruscan walls or newsprint zipatione from the golden age. I sat and  caught  this mess, as the infinitely better actor Kelsey is then upstaged by the Felix Ungerish David Hyde Pierce, the hyphen always a dead giveaway as I  have intoned, as he plays the Nance with extremmmmme prejudice, as the dog poppet would say, the funniest part was when you said you said you weren’t queer.


They showed a remembrance to John Mahoney at each commercial as Me TV does for say Mary or Barbara Hale, --the sissies at tropes called her a brainy Brunette, can you imagine the level of Judaism one must be born with to not notice those legs…and yet it was an arc before Refound Beatrice Mullally, that was most about Dafne and Niles, as DHP did the Nance act and showed again there is nothing that the Italians perfected in theater that Jewish circus owners cant turn into downright Shtick. I see It seems in our Perils of Pauline, him again, Dafne is no dancing girl that can turn any Romans head, he has  asked another, what else, pale brunette to marry him, as get out your secret decoder Ovaltine rings kids, as again there s nothing you cant underrated now that Mel Brooks Italianate Wife is dead,  and meathead and Myrna Turner  spilt long ago, why even Charles Borrows Charles stalwarts dago and jewey trolls Louie and Carla have splits, showing again my father was right abet their Hanna Barbara creed. As a later show would have this old hag,  named for a Roman goddess juts to recall when Jews weren’t all  medveed and Lutheran, strangely and immensely with Jewish writers aping Bullwinkle  sage James L, the night that cheers hangers on would be seen here again ,as Kelsey had a  more fixing  nature than they ever had, old Carla as by marriage wop supreme, would savage Cliff  in a vituperate ness that was never Murray slaughter enough,  never brilliantly cut down to size by addition of a Sue Ann, old hag emeriti’s would trash him like you’d once see parents were told to do by cnn at the Mac martin pre  school, you know, a beginning in ova of staged news staged left staged wrongly, as somehow a first ethic presidential  campaigner was asked by some house  nigger what he’d do if the first lady  was raped, ah but  the Bushes Calamari and Kraken tentacles are not as python as they think and exude a weakest inkiness, back when news was real and iron clad. She would of course living out her part, show us what the American dream for saps who  ever were smart enough to smack Jews in the face rather than as Audrey told me allow them in their restaurants   and thus ironically get less stars from a Jew York Times where the  Dantean sign above Bruno’s desk about hope is not in relish of Italian, but just implied,  and thus  get their righteous reset, that her children were unmarried mothers  or in jail what else could they be, from this Jewish handler now cast aside that troll, ah the American dream comes and goes, effete Romans were long dead, and now the amide is in Yiddish, oaf all, although it  maybe a Paolo and Francesca in the pages of a Starr  report, as what else would this hag be allowed to say, or could she say as Jamie Farr is dead and I don’t feel so good myself. Shed play outer string as you really you should be the M and M, Danny, would drunkenly woppishley flow through life, like a cunt like joy harsher and diminish for food. It was supposed to be cute but I found it like nails on a Crusif—chalkboard, whatever, as had to wonder if like Bebe would to on this show, if good old Danny boy was more than willing to raise the spawn as Jewish, ante they always…? Wuthering lows.



So on this night of tribute too the great actor whose humanity keeps this from being  horrid, Dafne is getting married, to somehow lets juts say comes out of central casting, and lays  it on thick with just a stare of beady eyes, know thy audience as Plautus, or was it Bill Clinton, said, anyway she’s marrying  someone who well, cant go over well with the Man U thugs who at this time were beating Italianated people to death an then wanted no part of  any Europea union, that was a dream of Caesar, just like their stinking Chunnel.  This all while later English set up to replace for an already liked Mister Wick, were still truing to get into the ruins of whatever Harrows were left. Dafne is to marry, lets call him, Solomon, as when the self-hatred get to be perverting guards we are as Sejanus could tell you, all screwed, and just to lay it in thick, as said,  he is suddenly married, there is no end to what he has to do to bring this fairytale off, and how! , he’s singly married after a unseen wife was such an annoyance to him, that twats smell made him sickkkkk, he is juts married to a play brunette with a mans name, who were supposed to later hate when she supposed to dago up and take it well when the Unmanly eddied like a last cowboy you get to be an American target, accountable of course. So, our Palo and Francesca are seemingly flying apart, oh now, one could hear mister Buuurnnnns say, as the mezzanine is used the same way but not as sweet as say would be seen in LaScalle devoted to by no less than that final Brutus of the Tonyevsre, old Martin, as opposed to the tough guy name given the father of these two, ahem, lost souls.  As you like it done as Plautus is by illiterates and half wits and middlebrows for a thousandth time, the wayward marriage is something that goes back to Figaro or before even to Petronius, but again like Clinton voters now, we are proud of our illiteracy and lack of ever having read anything as pagan as Ovid, as when the proscribed books can be burned by both lesbians and born again Jews like Iron Mike Medved, well you know you’re, Lucius, well, again...see above.

The wedding is on, or both are, and his candor doomed , really never doomed, unless tie couldn’t the almost Bush campaign like trudge to a end we all augured from date one, ala Gilmore Girls, was that they had to get together lest any weed as GV said of the lest temptation of Christ, grow in that cement garden. They race away of course, but to show the girl business with which this was handled, not so much as a dying ember, as in fact, the brunette and Dave have a better repore than he does with JANE, JAYYYNNNNE, ONE CAN HEAR Orson say, or perfect mimic Kelsey who did Orson better than most, --I wonder have not watched as many of these if they ever had him say that to her just to break that forth  wall,   as Plautus did,  to reek disposing and is now seen as a genius for things the Greek fagots hated him and the now lionized snowmen of  Italic Literary for, just as good as CS Lewis said and JRR waved off, that so ,what am I SAYING HERE  SO Space age, so Rodenneberryish diva of this Nance married once much less three times is so  laughable to  the crowd, remember the crowd Hilary, that why you always lose, it is so hard to buy and swallow this, ah the queer aside and the intemperate joke as an Italian is my birthright, better than any stolen desert, its so hard to buy this ninnies and this dishwater nothing, like how dearest fiancé RACHELA HAD TO LET IT OUT TRUMP AT THE DOOR OR NOT THAT OXBRIDGE GAL COULDN'T LET ROMAN BILL PERTEDN HE AND HER WERE DANTE AND BEATRICE, OR EVEN PETRARCH AND LAURA, sometime the ratios of power are all you have and there  is only so much movement a  body can in emotion can use up. I couldn’t gut through this fag, not this ninny as loving any mere woman, not like Rock and Doris, or layer with Susan Saint James, which we could all buy, or even Tony Randall and later Princess Eleanor Donahue, this was too hard to swallow too hard too buy into, as he made it worse by playing the acne for cash without a second of humanity, worthy of the middlebrows this show appealed to and cultivated as an audience. If this were an Ovidian payer, WELL, old Roman Bill did it better, as it appears that old Dafne was dried out twigs and branches before the sissy synod boy even denied to catch her, as it was less of a race and more of an egress, as he made the hasty chase he had to make, going byte tea leaves seen in the script. That is no Dafne, that’s our first stab at a gay marriage, the kind that Augustus Caesar and Sarnoff would demand as a television city wife. Nit as if pitting as this was as watched the beginning of the cycle of will and Grace, id have to say I have  dealt in old television realizing it and America would just get worse. 


3. In Bad versus and other works since the fall of Hillary, PERHAPS RIGHT ON HER HUSBAND, and maybe the whole plutocracy, always be casting, told old miser will and unlike ESPN, don’t call people names over taking some thug who loves the godfather a new Jordan, as you own that hatred with all the ninnies portending to be their father sect writers who wouldn’t let the Decision go. I noticed the rains that were coming and that slew more than one TV back to 1975. As old biddy Hilo is still hoping to censor her way to glory somehow, ah but when your biggy is the Aeneas of the Starr report as I said, my mother would tell me you cant pretend to be above board and a biddy anymore, as that vulgarian made your hands just as dirty as if you actuary hand jobbed your bullhead piggish husband, I not genuflecting at this crowd of C students. I made a point that id be not fingering the maids if willing to destroy the res publica for some wife, casting a water retaining die, and would spend your year of voting dangerously, another horrible analogy from that titian haired whore-sweetheart of K street, as shed would smart alecky say, as my watching an America of Perry and Della on purpose, and dint give you fagots of empire and clowns of mars a dime.  I did not watch that monsignor one moment to be a puppet for a Hon Stewart who again wanted to keep his hands cleansed of the Clinton grime. As a boy, the Jesuits made me read the Lives of the late republic, Caesar as the fulcrum of that tragedy part farce, and you don’t have it in  you to replicate it, certainly not with this many Agrippa’s  involved. But, what I left out and will post now is that I was actually afraid last year of being in a failing republic, as read The lives of the late republic as a boy. My sharper than me brother told me, they wont be throwing that on, its too cost prohibitive. Jew jokes are everywhere when Meathead starts sounding like a John Bircher, seeing Ruskies everywhere, for the old queen Goldwater girl, so who did you vote for then Rob, whose bones did you stand on, what great 19th century society  were you envisioning as Nixon said, always hectoring someone when not larding up  a Clinton into being a less unseen Aeneas, how, famously of his diminishment of eventually strangely beloved warmonger BARRY the Unfairy, that as she seethed as she always does to make a Magnus Lepits somewhere so much ancient dust as barbarians do. Oh, poor Bill, stick with a hags Valkyries, when, as they would out in that faggots Hyde Pierces mouth meanly, they had as wrote themselves into the boredom of martial bliss, a reason Dante e Beatraza  are always separated by a wall or two, had the iron poor blood  boys au he jumped off the roof of the house as a boy, ...to Be  superman,...? Him...the Nance, shit, you wish, or even in playing batman, a more a sissies speed, no, he wished to be a Valkyrie, shudder, and handle and bring out the barbaric dead whereas the dark-haired girl manias juts softened them up for Jove,  stick with that, when its signora Fortuna or just Camilla you scheme to chase, if you do any one at all. As they did when I was a boy. As I said don’t buy this Jewish vespers, not from him, as when the moneta was on the table and a movie had to be made the Virgil of the Clinton years, Meathead, old Lucius, not me, who actually placed her in the manicominmum that CC CLAUDIAUNUS WOULD PLACE HIS SHREWISH WIFE, TO ALLOW FOR ROMAN HYJINX, he made sure that cunt was wrote out in the first draft.


 



He, MY SHARPER OLDER BROTHER,  one night told  me to come in and with that monsignor queer on CBS no less, haven’t we fallen far, as the lackey ninny and Nance of empire, grimaced and screeched doing a weak money moment  of Larry The magnificent, as he, as he did with Rachel,  in a swerve of Lesbo Drag  I recited a woman hater would do, look up  Colbert and death threats  and Asian girls on Google, again the bromide in creep Latin about the past  is more true than Oxbridge gals would know, and my Jesuit trained brother, when Latin was still  allowed as Spanish and Greek now, cause God knows they didn’t program Jews, that this was what we had been reduced to as Italian Americans, in  this dying empire, by scum nags  like this faggot. I was a Roman schoolboy that it was a hate of the republic with cretins like this, bought, and paid for hacks, hags, and Jews on parade and other dirt filth scumbags who are partially taking tolls on milvain bridges. I was still literally  afraid of the pimps selling this republic to some hag who dint stop her hubby from fanging  the maids amid my brother told me that the curia was much more willing to see him as first lady than First man in Rome. In addition, that he certainly not sign off on it. I did hear the great  Crow T robot in times of sunshine past unrecalled now as well as they could be, say of Clinton that he was the  Chicken of the future, as I did read that commentaries  of his something allegedly  under seal, but what does that mean when a bribe is the only sacred thing  about a tree or a leaf anymore,  and recall it, from that seemingly forget fail and forewent Steve  reeves who  shits you  swallowed more than a bit of whenever someone else is called by the Bush crime family amid their greatest graft and stealing from biggest grave, that to call anyone else a draft dodger is bad form indeed.

As my brother explained to me when cunts like Colbert were talking about rethrown elections, this did not last this long after Al Gore was flunked, and the only people screaming then were the Bone stealers Bushes, and they are the only ones really screaming now. This keeps going and Bill Looks less ROMAN IN FAKE, less ROMAN BY THE DAY. The longer this goes on, he told me with a  keenness I saw in my father and relations, never ever to be seen in the comedia dell arte promulgated by Jews who amusingly once married Italian  woman more than any, not that that helped anyone, the lower this goes in which to him just validated what asshole he always thought Bill Clinton was, as didn’t like him since his political career should have been over that night he couldn’t be trusted to keep his Id in check long enough for Daffy to introduce a man on the most  important night of his life unless he was pissing on the furniture because he was supposed to…To my brother, Bill Clinton was and is, a low life with Roman drag and withered laurels and a con  man who memorized  Ovid as  some did the bible , or ate last Juvenal and said it was he bible as once heard no less than Glengarry glen beck do between Jewish rabbinical guests, the lower this goes on, he said with a Machiavellian charm that doesn’t need whispers or pointed fingers again Italian jazz, with a sharpness that Pelosi either doesn’t have or as hubby  does make sure Podestas know to do is  going in the wrong direction to work, like Mac kanes bombers  and his political savvy, he said, the over this gets on, the boy queen as he called Billy the kid, another  analogy of Gores  he is not fond of me issuing as Gave me Burr when  I was seven or so,  lest I buy into being a wop on this empire floor, Clinton we know he’s already not Julius Caesar and your girlfriend  Rachel, that diva couldn’t stomach them as  Dante and  Beatrice either that night, he noticed that first, the longer this goes on, he added with a sweet emotive Italian blood approval that goes back to wayward  republics and fiascoes immemorial, the more people will  think of Al Gore and how no one marched for him, and the fact that the only marchers are always white boys seeming for  power, and on whose dice he’s on, and we will start to remember  why and how it was that old “Roman Bill”, he said, with quotes , not even believing it as I do, at all, well  find out why it was that he couldn’t even  let Mike Dukakis have a night of his own and why he big footed him even then, opening up  the bushes second front , cause  again ,that  pair of swine from the Ozarks,  he said using my divination, always need an open seat, and she can never  full  it, even with that ass. I smiled, Plautus is our Italian Bible, dears, as again I was actually nervous that a republic was being pt up on blocks and stripped by scheming and niggers who only grumble about  a crime bill when they think they might, but then hush up and shun away like a fagots and slaves, as cops were made as Tacitus would say bank guards and then made opens season on as patent leather headed  G men found George will and his tastes are not that amenable people after twenty years of  having ask when Clinton says jump, as my brother said, How low…? Get this queer outtahere, he said, just saying that to me in the  shinny dark as Id put  my  Ma to  bed as am glad to see my fasionista drunken Beatrice show up and allow me to not watch lovable Nazis anymore.



I was glad to see that calling people nastivists and such and nationals socialists had its effect and not the one the Bush family and Imult had hoped for, just die if planned detonation they aren’t good at anything and sometimes not even that, as they are always the one shocked and awed, and I was the one sent a petition to sign asking George will be exhumed from the crypt called MSNBC, as if id care. Eecch, my brother told me,  as we talk politics but as the priests taught us, detached and without a take, is but strictly  as farce as the Jesuits taught  me and accounted from an already  sharp him, he lets this go on too long and as I said myself, might not be able to pretense he is Niccolo Machiavelli anymore, but was juts part of that vast right wing conspicuity that that  old hag cunt should have never mentioned once, but then who expects a sense of decorum or even smarts from white  chicks….? Ah, the monsignor would  seen enough then, quiet down some, and go more to the smirk meaning what you can read into it, tiled into a corner just as the woman producer  he fired , women are sooo stupid, told him to avoid, as his show was avoided by more an more  whit would yet bring to his homo whatever  it was slur…as Louis CK would fall outta his tree, and suddenly as Alexander warned, you lost the high ground, but as Ovid  said, you never recalled  the sanctimony  of a  bribe. So, await to hear about a5x5 compilation only did to get back into a groove and accept some coaching about what could insert and what not. Await the results of new pages done as get some upset from some , and admiration from more, saying would like to do anew Prince Valiant, but had to show a less cartoony style, why ill never  know.


As await this reaction, redid pages to show can hand would trace Various Carmines who are trashed on comcipod casts when frankly I respect them for having fed their family as Italian artists have been doing in real art since Raphael had all those babies mamas to feed. Again, my smarter brother said don’t do anything until and unless you get a check, which his buddy of thirty-five years since VALLEY HIGH, PAYROLL, AGREES. So, whatever is accepted, im doing my comics.









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