THE SENATE YIELDS TO MISTER DOUGLAS.

16 November, 2019.

I have said that I had a tough pagan death holiday this year, as its assigning how preceppios and almost anything Italian so bothers the good Vicars of now, but that a holiday about death in the fields of Germanic hell holes like Transylvania would be so allowable to the criers, as they always return to their barbarian roots.

I had a nice turnaround in that, as I went from a true rage building up in me, to around the anti all saints day itself. Always a tell from the barbarian rage they wished always to return to, that very day I was accepted with some cartoons I’ve sold of my Witches/ bunnies, the kind Roman schoolboys like, as they have to live in a dower Crucible, and have to pretend that Warren and other lesbian queens and Ms Grundy’s don’t make them sick, which after all, serves them right as rain.

I got some acceptances and the small dream catcher I was sent by the Apache I think, as gave them not a ton of geld as don’t have a ton, but enough to show a kind heart, was a nice swerve of things and hung it up on a wall I’m still not sure I will festoon for Saturnalia, as opposed to xmas that I cant this year as happen When pop died, THAT I cant even pretend to care about.

But I did write a play , I never know how far is too far here in this off ramp of the Milviana off ramp, called SATURNALIA, IN WHICH MADE A TERI HATCHER TYPE a signora Fortuna sort, with Virgil as Sinatra, Terrance as Sammy and I thought perfectly Dino and his dingling sisters as Ovid as her gracious roman gals. And recalled a real incident in Xmas 1995 when just about to go often the deep end, a giant from my youth named Mike Webster signaled to me on a street and I paid him a ten dollar bill for a autograph I misplaced a thousand storms ago as I felt badly for the man who had taken one too many hits to his iron head. Too sad a play, I was told then about Saturnalia, and I thought, Christmas without being sad...what are you Reformed...? And none I’m unsure if I much care anymore, but got through the Germanic death holiday with the nice change of acceptances in a restoration that I’ve never much bought as its queen Victoria is no less a pig than Bill Clinton, and like the fake sexual hating queen of the age of Paladin, reading sonnets of Ars Amora with only god knows, to haw wife at least, whom it couldn’t possibly be.

I saw a face book ad --as I came back to as I said, I’m not being censored again and losing out jobs as I did in my moms last year because now I’m not allowed to compared that c*nt and her hubby to the duke of duchess of Syracuse anymore, as I was doing when smarmy, closet everything, Colbert was hurling death threats at Asian girl coeds, after glad-handing and giggling and braying through the halls at Black rock, fresh off of exerting barely legal gals and itatalate cafés for Louie the lilac.

SO, AGAINST BETTER JUDGMENT, I SENT IN REQVIEM, THOUGH FOUND OUT HERE SUBMISSIONS WERE LITTLE MORE THAN A CHEAPEST POSTING. I HAVE AND CAN MAKE MYSELF, AS THIS CRAP WASN’T SO MUCH AS A COLLECTION OF CHAT ROOM POSTINGS AT TITTY SITES, WHICH WHY BOTHER…? BUT THOUGHT, STUPIDLY, IT WAS LOW HANGING FRUIT AND. IM JUST FOUR LIENS FROM THE END OF THE PAGE TEN NOW ON THE RÉSUMÉ, AND WOULD ALIKE TO GET OUT OF THE SAME PAGE AS MY MOTHER’S DEATH YEAR, AS SOON AS I can as a kind of again-- paper Requiem.

Now, I’m not the sort of barbarian in Roman drag who thinks just putting a Roman word on things is the same as gaining decency or heft, I mean look at that thing you have called a Senate, far Christ’s sake. I don’t know why, but even those who’d liked to ignore me as I through it in your face as a gal friend of my sister told her I seem to have the Clinton and their housemen pegged in the game of as they call it three dimensional chess, though as I said, with the Italianate eye for that third dimension, that made reading hard for me, but had enough brethren who told me not to summon to it as the Hollywood wops mob would so liked, and pushed my way through and sued the Ars that Goddesses high up had given me, its always three dimensional once one puts a knight on the board, if not the board itself.

I sent in after a more trouble than it as worth uploading and downloading and the rest of this shit, was told within hours, id get to that email much later as who knew that sort of watch on the Rhine was so efficient, that a reference of an Italian Mother isn’t worthy of this ugly rancid shit, again showing hat the antis Trumpers had to do once that any underwriters decided to go to the mattresses, much like what happen to the charley Rose show.

They were really upset, as amazingly some filthy are, by this it seemed. Now, this was no skin off my nose, as if I had wanted to be a middlebrow, like reinstitution of Roman Chicken hawk, a dismastment of academic Greek tutors with eyes for the boys, dusted off and laid upon war mongers who skipped on National Guard Duty, a fave of my father Gore’s trouncing of the curia all Romans schoolboys to this day, and remember that, adore. I would have taken that chance afforded to me often since 1974, which always seemed to bother whiter, blonder, faggier,--I use the Caesarean rule of threes hated by Life on the old Muddy coot fool Sam Clemens, wops who still sit and hope I hear die of aids or something like it soon enough as that creep who saw unintended lawsuit unwilling enemies everywhere I wasn’t the one, I never am, who threw that wrench in your giant mousetrap of a life and made you go, like wops who thought fer sure would be Paterno qb’s or at least turned into linebackers, but alas we all didn’t get out of the age of Ted Bissel unscathed.

I wasn’t the one, Queer ole Albert Curcio, smiling, music room Sadie Hawkins of the low end boy lover purists, bvd boy in socks and nipples out I stupidly, sadly, lacked into that day that veered my life towards this issuing queen, tired out years ago, who made this fag, better than us all, into a bartender at a fag join. You see finally devoted to Juvenal here in way id never thought, I’m a more honorable Roman Virgil man, even Ovid who stands on the purgatories of lesser hells and teaches sonnets to lower end Italian Writers Amazon don’t know to trash, I need these words, and cant like Cobert do everything with Chucrh lady smirks. And not even the kind that the new Yorker was censoring eons ago when they were unwilling to anger all the Jew comeuppance of the unfinished pages of The Answered prayers, they who couldn’t then or even much now get into La Brasserie as the rabbi told my pop, the gentleman’s agreement, no matter waht Greg Peck said, is as American as apple pie and drones.

I was told that so unrepentant as this blank verse, like the sonnet invented by Tuscan writers, I never learn in GiGi Marquez SPIC LAND YOU’RE expect THE SICILIANS TO DO THEIR PART, that my entire supposed account was exiled out,--the wasted time innerved me-- as these idiots still don’t understand that as Ovid said, the play you censor is the play you cant sell swells tickets to, and after all, I’m not the one who is half a billion dollars in debt, and I’m not the one making the Star wars universe have to go to Disney streaming service, which may or may not have as much security as the Bushian watch on the Rhine, or Hudson, after all. I had a scent this was middlebrow click bait, anyway, and again took me two days to bother to get back there to see this, as so again no skin off my nose, as this year too, though deviated to the gambit of the entire page getting done, still walked a ways from a regular gig in a magazine as would be called a ‘sexist’ as because I drew pictures of a playboy bunny who I loved as a boy, and now have to pretend that rapists in Hollywood are beneath contempt since the rapist’s wife they bundled money for when as she always does, sledding down the imperial steps into the gutters, where she always ends up again no matter what DAR pearls she pretends to play dress up in. I wondered why I get that reaction to this, ass again, even those things ignored don’t get the vitriol of some, here in Colbert giant boys room, as that jackanapes will find out seen enough we have too many people rolling their eyes and even Rachel now friend to Kathy Kane , though I liked her as a brunette better, what else is new …now, and in yellow HIGH COLLAR Mildred Pierce costume, isn’t big no matter when she smiled on command with Lesbian drag.

As I wanted to say to them nobodies, again, my love of the audience is Roman, it is whole, ill get my own walls to write on in eager pencil, if not Cum and piss upon, I’m not one of those Petronius’ of the Clinton age, who have seen the Constantinian light, gals, as have a Roman aphorism for every need.

I WANT TO KNOW AS SEE COMEDIES WITH THE GREAT AGED Cerberus OF THE WOPS OF HOLLYWOOD, THE caste system of Cupola and Scorsese Id like to know here all the Sanctified white women and their new found love of censorship will be that day, that will be the day, I want to know where the wonderful world of Jews will be, and their castigation of hate speech will be that night, as Pachino and the other handmaidens show its been a long time since needle park, and we now know one of these dagos on command will and has gotten too close to the white women, and its been a long time since those hags were in college and wayward Gumbas may have stolen all of grams silver.

I want to know where you all will eb that night with your new found love of sanctimony , the Salem that Bill Clinton woke up one day and saw --Yikes!--her as the queen of this horrid restoration age. Hay, I’m not trying to push the old coot down everyone’s throat who carted the first Monica, Anita Hill, way back when Bill was still half soused and singing in the moonlight a rendition of Melancholy babbbbbbyyyyyyy. Ah, those glory days. As I like hurling it like the pies in roman farce or at the great Natalie Wood in The Great Race, that I recalls Bill at his best, and Bidden too and wont go so easily as Hillary like A befuddle but vicious Constantine, a second mention, paid pipers us across the bridge and its burning cross, a signal of danger to Italians way way back and which, like corrupt senates, they’d like to not remember.

I want to recall to these dumb wops that and who maybe get Jewish accolades now, though wonder if just remanding the people at the navel of the world, one civilized by Greeks no less, if that will be enough for thief Sanhedrin who I fear, wait, Hope will hold his last movie about queens of the Jews against him , if not his springing up to praise and thus Bury human hemorrhoid Moore, when he was actually goushe enough to bring socialist politics to the second wives and mistresses of a Hollywood triumph.

I WISH TO RECALL AND SCRATCH ON THE WALLS YOU KEEP SO VERY CLEAN , THAT these Jewish hacks and hags and thugs and slugs, who love you so much when not playing Shylock, are so very different than the Jews of that rag who on cue called William S paley a Medici I read that myself, for making Brigit Love Bernie, no less, so take your Fatty Arbuckle from Pittsburgh and the crap that Chuck Loore makes between Christmases with orange trees like a Deli counter jumper Trimalchoio and shove it, a favorite line of mien of Dante’s , though had it more committed to memory once, as I
do recall and so remember that that rag didn’t like the performance given By Robert BLAKE, WHO appears as a sad artier in Requiem, when he played a Capote anti hero and was the last Italianate man allowed to play a murderer, and not for the laughs he could get and not in pratfalls made in blood. How about that. How about, along with mom I recall him, as notice too, that sowmhwo games allwoed to be atlen away from Joe Patreno as to make sure again him winning didn’t get in the way of a fall down drunk like Bear Bryant, who admired him, as did John Thompson, as a bulwark of racial equality, but no in law Jew will make that movie, god knows, now, a team that learned ethics from the Bush family cant be another that has games its stolen, taken away.

You see, I don’t really care anymore about any of this minstrel show and these hit that they have to keep dodging, as Cato the younger said, now there’s a legacy family, as in now there’s a senate, once you start decimating, Caesar, you’ll find you have to keep going

I put a few Ducats on the Browns to win that nighttime game, and true to form, that coach who stands on sidelines and almost gets Ravens to break their necks, while Italian coaches are fired for the heinousness of almost putting a foot out as a negro runs from the sheriff, and I make a few dollars as a ibank account swells up a little but with sold cartoons. I am glad , but noticed again, when the Steelers lose, evasively to a bad Ohio Team somehow someone goes out there and tried to kick a black man in his dick as new matinee idol QB did, showing again, once a stiller your never far from the private parts. That Rock Hudson who is trying to steal a team from a rapist, good luck, ask Hillary its Yeoman work, as in Diana Prince and neither one is, actually is seen trying to take off a mans helmet, and kick him in the balls, and somehow he is the victim to local ass kissers, as I love it when things go Freudian. But to show Bidness is Bidness, quietly as seen on Courttv’s crawl no less, the nfl not having the Cycle year it had hoped for.

And the next Steelers-Brown game has been pulled back to 1 o clock, as the missing Gödel wants no part of that Negro coach and his pencent for throwing punches, lest he have to platitude his way through beieng asked how did you lose to a team that was unraveling, mister sir...? I t isn’t Saturnalia till he loses to a 3-8 team, usually in black and silver. And so now can go back to reading what he’s memorized behind perpetual scared eyes , the same glare and stare that he holds on the sidelines when he is never sure how much time is left on the clock, in more ways than one.

Last week, turned from the primetime Cowboys, should have known somehow a league that lest stealer qb’s rape women in toilets and let stand in’s kick negreos in the balls, wasn’t going to let yet another brilliant play this time done by wide out from the hsoue o0f Bullet Bob named Cooper and like Dex couldn’t stand in our blizzard of yellow snow, flags, I mean. I turned it from them to a show I never watched, called #Bobsburgers. I had never bothered to watch it, sure it was those faceless nameless shows that are cartooning viomitoriums, though it ahs as its eked the voice of Archer, still, wasn’t convinced.

But, I watched it, and thought it was brilliant, funny, and most of all, like South Park, had heart where usually in Seth Mc Fairyland, its just vulgar as a sixth grader that I, as opposed to Albert, never really was.

And not wanting to be a sap and watch the Cowboys, sent to the Hebrides of 1 pm-- don’t come back until you win, Zeke, I was seated there, going through the channels. I saw a Murder she wrote, I thought, with the great American CBS Cincinnatus, that’s beyond you now Bill, you’re just waiting for your comedy to morph into tragedy issuing one of those Roman aphorisms that is beyond good Jews in laws, who now think they’ve finally made vendetta for old jewey Marcus.

In this nineties show, as washed out and drenched in wish washy color as they all are, not as colorfully sharp as say Columbo’s a generation of television before, I saw Eddie Elbert, in his oldest days, a prefect Mort Drucker looking cartoon come to pudgy, skin folded, white haired, but still leprechaun, Puckish, eye twinkling, life. He was I gathered here, a senator, a later Jefferson Smith, in that already then dying mausoleum that was what it was before, but we are in those Roman days of Who among us is...?

Here, Eddie, perfectly Roman ex farmer now purple sash wearer was arguing a shahs been once, since the senate was great and before the powerful started getting first rubber stamps, and then horses in the honorable walls. And he asked then dying off segregationists, who Biden calls a base, I really cant stand him , worse then Hillary, if i may be kind, but then hated the Sopranos and the Godfathers, with only Bill as a Ray Sharkie I could admire. And he asked, what have we become here...? Always a question in even Television Caveats, when these Senate starts to creek and groan and start to smell like the old folks solarium that Caesars called it, and which is what seems to be happening to the Bush Family.

He, once duding shtick with farmers and a Hungarian once a pin up lesser doll, he asked what is this place becoming...? Even this old show showed a Roman bent the Jews had before who knew, they’d all become a bunch of John Birchers, showing again, Skokie was a mistake, as the law addled priests all thought when I was a kid and again, had a father upset that after Italo Calvino was openly campaigned against, that that Stockholm syndrome award be given to spics and negreos who never cared to even bother to think about the distance to the moon. Saw a celebration of that horrid woman writer Toni Morrison was held, and said to a black woman editor hope they at the Jew Yorkers and such send a Kelley girl there to make scat nosiness or something, as they had done to Tennessee Williams and Italo when they both lay dying.

I do hope someone ahs the decency to do that, but then the Andy Kauffman’s in the dying senate are starting to believe their own crap, ah but the be tragedy of Julius CAESAR IS BEING INTERRUPTED NOW, AS LOCAL EYEWITNESS NEWS GOES IN AND TELL US THE WEATHER ON THE EIGHTS, AN ACTUAL JOKE I MADE WHEN THIS ALL JUMPED FROM HILLARY’S TURGID HEAD, AGAIN HEAD IF WERE LUCKY. Don’t dance in the sand for my benefits dears, I read Ovid too.

It may be time, as it sometimes is to purge these creeps and send them back to being socialists and back to better law firms than they’d ever have gotten into before made imperial contacts in the lobby by Augustus statue, or dress, as sometimes happened without so much as a concentration camp, but just a bloody sheet. So that the Happiest among us tell the old saints of the Cyclopes that deep down, the money men from Plymouth don’t want you around. Are we, Eddie the Senator asked, going to begrudge people health care, this a nineties show if that!- as we make bombs with television cameras on them so was we can kill the multitudes with better accuracy. Ah like Norman Lear a Jewry sensibility no TV show would show in Seal team and FBI lousily drenched crap now, as we are all Spartans now, now that the hillbillies and the Jews are too old for any greetings at which once they’d burn down libraries , good Athenians all, lest they’d be sent to a front, which is just fine for your sons, just not the chosen, by god or by fate , as an axis between Clintons love of signore Fortuna and the Jews , who assuredly have a man god killing childbeds while they hide, is a conspiracy of Dunces that has too many Cassiuses and not enough Brutality.

From that saw a show hadn’t seen in years called Head of the class. Again, don’t mean to caste aspersion but a first pilot I wrote in 1980 was about an honors class , in which I was sure I didn’t belong and didn’t want to as again left more on the table than you house n**88ers pets might ever steal. I wrote that play about a honors class, that here was a middling ABC hit, down to some of the archetypes I used , as noted it looked an awful lot like a later show, done by a house Jew between Xmases in which the trees are all strangely Technicolor-ly colored, colorized as if Turner has taken the holiday, and made less Goyish and more garish, like again what you did to American politics. On this show as a lovelier gal I had a crush on then, a type we know now fat bloated Jewish marchers raped at the time as they bundled money for an old bag who still doesn’t know what her hubby holds dear, as she was implicated in bombing Roman ruins, a Infama as my Mom would say, washing her hands of both, a good Roman might such Semitic vulgarity. In this how was ex Disk Jockey from Cincinnati, Howard Hessman from the first great year of Soap, in which it seemed all were in and again the Sanhedrin at the times decried as like Cassius it is arming when the baldfaced become devoted and patriotic bwteen sneering at the wall.

I saw Leslie, ironically named, Bega, ethic girl supreme as she was dressed in a playboy bunny-ish bodice showing her ample--loveliness, and felt badder than I had already, as I had possibility once, but like Old man Clinton, gave too much in to the hacks and flacks and sister Gertrude’s around me when I shouldn’t have. SO PRETTY, she was, as saw this show as a vein plumed by that horrid Jewish producer and his acrid Big Bang Theory, which it looked like once that creep excised the Jewish weeny, the fat kid, and of course, the brunettes. I was astounded that here were, though Hessman left, sad it wasn’t what he had hoped, shit n**88ers, Robin William’s suicide was foretold by me when I saw a man so at wits end he thought Mork and Mindy was going to be Vidal’s brilliant A Visit to a small Planet...what scripts are you reading...? I fumed, thinking of even then the late eighties and the ethnic girl with white skin, and big hair as the white woman called it before got a memo that they just love kinky hair now, as Jews can always Meathead there way through pesky things they said before, just like How Al Pachinko never shows a Machiavellian fatigue of his part in all of this.

I sat and saw her sitting there with the stereotypes the later CBS macher would eschew and saw her near an Anti Apartheid poster of the time and wondered, like Corsetto avoiding it, that Big Bnag thoroughly and its pudgy blond divas, did a perpetual war ever be noticed by the white kids and wimps that gathered in the comic book store...I doubt it. As what bothered me was a mother is gone, though they love the shtick Italian mommas boy, a more Roman and stoic appraisal of a mom as Mister Jordan in a dream space worthy of Buck Henry as angel and Wendy as Goddess does bother those who still, like grandpa, like to think dark eyes means you don’t feel love or anything as much as they do, as they ignore the bombs that Oliver Wendell Douglas warned us of. And I pray that hell can, as Dante said, be there to welcome this old hags who are till playing their-her same impeachment games as she did by the way, to an LBJ whose great society of equality once disgusted the c*nt who sided to see Goldwater make Cicero’s lovers of all us roman schoolboys who adore Cattiline.

And from making a dinner I couldn’t brimg myself to do this time, a brother calls out to me and tells me them Cowboys won. Feh, I respond, thinking more about the Leslies who have come and gone, when the world was fresh and not so fallen as it is now. As again, being censored by the middlebrows who love war and have to pretend they voted for an old c*nt and its wife Hillary, heoooooooooo, remember Nicollo only got 42 percent himself with the windfalls of Charlie Trees and red money. I have a Roman aphorism for each occasion, and I have worked around the soundly sanctimonious and the trash who now tile themselves into the corners, where midnight Monsignors have to pined they are 100 percent with an old coot who ole blocked Clarence Thomas into the fucking supreme Court. As brunette Hillary seems to be dissipating from stations lest we recall when Jewish Machiavelli’s played by queer Englishmen tell us , who knew.., its would still be important this late that Hillary would sue Bidens son against him...does that mean the dead one, cause she still rails against Germanicus, so...all I know is that like giving anymore fees, joining pages to get submission is is out doc. As if I’ve never believed it before I believed it now more than ever, that the Roman was again write, and all my words come down to one basic ideal...this is not my wall.
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