AND MY SELETRIC TYPEWRITER…

 

 

Early on in what at first was Hillary's sitting Shiva for her ambitions, and then suddenly became the unwanted house guest that is old coot Biden showing up like an unwanted squatter in a Jack Davis cartoon, I had pages of a Roman Superman I tried to get into a comic book collection sent back to me, torn to bits. AN ECHO of being a little boy trapped in a Catholic school with a German hag nun, a school my father would not let me leave, as that hag wanted me out, to which an admiring father Francis told that hag, you’ll be out on your ass first old lady, as before this boy, yes, he's a pain in the ass, a clown, girl crazy and sarcastic, but he read every page of Virgil we made him read. This time it was done by by a coven of hags, who amazingly were being sanctimonious about the fact that the wife of a rapist Jesuit student, indeed no surprise, wasn't as smart as her piggish husband. Oh do wake me I TOLD THEM, you hags, when the Barzini behind these funerals shows up and it turns out to have been an old white blue eyed molester whom, as I said, has a real minor interest in bicycle seats. And sanely, their viciousness was tempered with somehow it was my fault that all those colored bits of paper were sent back to me, and I knew that Hillary was surrounded by enemies she knew nothing of. Just like a woman would be. 

 

I recall this here now as I was indeed correct in that with a knowledge of Roman far e being the only primer that I politically needed, as did Niccolo, I had an inkling that things would go kerplock the moment that old coot Biden, he of a minor interest in bicycle seats and who has spent a life wanting to smell co Ed's hair would make everything go sideways the moment that crooked smiled shit eater would open his mouth. And I was not shocked that he came off as badly as he would have as have in watching our Miles Gloriousus Bill, we'll have seen a low rent Cassius, Joey Bagofcummedintorubbers and the vulgarity that he's been since I was in middle school. Again it's all in a book j read as a Jesuit student what isn't…?, called his to be a Roman Playwright, and a line that some people the stage adore, some the stage ignores and some the stage ...abhors. Also it was this book in tatters ...what isn't of my patria…?, Which gave me a line in a cartoon I sold during this planneddemic, oh, learn to take the punches you through as a newlywed toots, in which I had Patty the Bunny tell bloat Arrrec Barrwin, that be careful when you mug, dear or your career might freeze that way.

 

As we have gotten in the year in which I sued That Girl as a recollection of golden days of golden boughs, as I think people have started to warm up to my Decameron and my views on gracious ladies, as saw even my Beloved Vesta on a site have to , as I think many are, thinking, how the hell did this old codger get into the imperial hallways. We are at the last season of ANN MARIE, a Danny Arnold-less year in which the cute Italian girl in bangs was replaced with an anti euginue, hectoring wife and or fiancée, and this story need no Betrothed, in fact, like all works of Italian Genius, it needed the exact opposite. As even Marlo Thomas, EVEN A WOMAN, could understand that marriage would kill the spirit of the show, and even a fiancée was anathema to the piece. It stepped on its own line, which as seen in a debate of the one guy again you found that couldn’t just stand there and accept the work of his minions, stepping on your own liens is an anathema to plays and politics.  See, I remember the confederate flags that festooned the coffin of the man who was the plague to Trent Lott, but the Midas touch to this old coot.

 

Why this is important is that too months ago, I sent out The American Decameron day 77 to a ostensibly liberal literary magazine, and shockingly, it was accepted. But with as they say a Caveat, as usual. They wanted the caricatures renamed, as  the days of Gonzo anything or  new journalism burned, I guess, in the flickers of Hillary's rosebud. Make this aging queen praetor and watch for the fires at Chappaqua on the fest of Janus, they will be bright and shining, they will.

 

They wanted the names changed for reasons I was unclear, as without use of names like Bill Clinton and Wendy Fiore, I didn't think the story meant anything at all anyway. My brother told me as I posted about it then, not to change a word that wasn't a typo, and he told me again to forget that vernacular  shit I often use. So I let it go up and didn't bother to change any names as think  have to sadly actually watch what I say about Bill Clinton, lover of Roman farce, and who could take a punch, and I think of myself as doing better by him than he deserves. 

 

I went to Biden page and left a scurrilous remark, everyone is a liar you know when you recall him standing there at a coffin festooned with Confederate flags no less as he Antonius for the American cesspool' s last segregationist. Remember Hillary don't let it get you down that your husband's biggest enemy still alive, barely and not moldering in the ground like Kerry,  using your every tricks to get that starting role he doesn't deserve. I did like seeing though her highness comes out to give him the starting roll he'd never have gotten without a black death. She advised him in best Tarpeas-lady Macbethean slither, whatever you do, Don't concede. Ouch! This must be da plazzze.

 

Suddenly and don't know why, I got streams, shit storms as my Vesta would say, of begging emails asking me for money for Biden. Don’t tell me the Chinese couldn't be trusted to not send slugs and ious. So, I checked all the Emails I thought were from him, and some wayward replies. But didn't see I had also sent an email from another Magazine and sent it to spam. Of course, they accepted the work and I've gotten my share of diminishment along with usual attaboys and admirations and if course send something different...but the same. I was asked for a simple bio but let it languish in spam until I saw it, and felt badly that I had again fed things up and over that bleached anus who thinks his money is a sacrament, as he how's again he's no star, and doesn't know enough to not bump into the furniture. 

 

But they were incredibly  there nice about it. So, understanding my dilemma they accepted the work again and asked me to send in a bio blurb, and I felt at ease that I didn't waste an opportunity over if all things that I saw a man who wasn't there. He's got a hard on for To an Bill, the chances who took his post he still thinks as all he does is tinted with this old fart still thinking he is going to make the books all equal, and party like it's 1988. I don't trust that old codger, nor like him a bit. He is shit, and I don't say that over his political beliefs, he has none. And now am seeing some people agreeing with me. And I was glad I didn't lose another line in my resume over that old age bag of chicken wings called the past tense of to have Bidded on something. I explained the best I could why I write this year as made a Cunta Della tutti Cunti, and that isn't Hillary, no it's an Italian folktales book, that wasn't seen as a detriment to winning a Nobel prize. 

 

But why I am pleased Most of all, is that I've sold a cartoon or an essay each month of this epidemic as a nice response to the people willing to kill Italian grandmothers for an old coot who called their fathers unelectable as Marius the great, was big shouldered, poetic, a man with Bogart's face as compared to this empty suit with a crooked shit eaters smile, the essence of just happy to be nominated, a nothing, a mason jar of farts, a bag that has a leak,  and his girl wonder, the sweetheart of cellblock C. As saw that the Jewish clerks always so very helpful, they have amazingly tin  eared as they all are in ivory towers, made a virulent Fargo piece of shit, unlike the wholeness and resonance of that film done by the Coen bros, about of all places the colony of the spawn of Vikings, whose team mascots are not so vendetta over, a what was the fall of Rome after all, a mitzvah in which 7 out of ten people in Italy were dead ten years after Constantine brought the lamb of God to Alba Longa,  and the barbarians brought the charcoal. Really…?, another gang who couldn't shoot straight. This, of all years…? How many possible wops were there in the snow we have hated as n88resa that you are allowed to hate…? Really it has the echo of old coot Biden 's commercial in flat summer, now as gone as his even mentioning the word China, Invisible cities,  speaking of "New York Types" this of all years...really a gang who couldn't shoot straight in this year after what you did to Italy, and so Is glad that I didn't change a word or a name as made pretty Wendy a roman goddess here in New Judea. Nice fuck off to a Jewish rat who wants people there attending at his stinking middle-aged show , as satire is indeed what might hemorrhage on Saturday night. I did feel I did something right in that, I left Roman Bill play his role, as he says to a befuddled me,  as heroic Wendy in boas and ermine looks on into the Lemuria, that Gov. Boombutz had no trouble in the celebrating of, if one Italian woman, he said, died for that goon, he says thinking his gears all along, he will get his. 

 

And to show no befuddled bumbling of an old coot that cheated through Syracuse can ever derail a Roman schoolboy, I found another email, again not from Submittbale, where all the hacks go to do piece work. Sending in TAD day 27 into an ad seen in a writer’s magazine, they were quite impressed and asked to see the whole thing. I took out part one of day 4, Emma and of course, TPOCROWS, AS owe the people who accepted them that much, and sent it in. Quickly a gal there with a Indian name like Seema, quickly got back to me and asked if I would resend it in, but change the font from Courier new 12, which the whole 270 pages was in. They don’t seemingly like this script, and was more than eager to do just that, but said that I had chosen this typeface, as refuse to use Times new Roman, as once one wriest in that they think in that and I couldn’t be a woman who would go to Turin as a junket, to spit on Calvino’s grave as Gore told everyone that draped newsletter had done. I had chosen Curior New as wanted it to resemble the seletric typewriters sued at News view by Donald Hollinger when there were still writers in eth world and propagandists and hacks didn’t yet totally rule the earth, and even Bill Buckley would say to Gore , out of pin headed earshot, I addoooooorrfrrred Jooooolian, as I can’t imagine a book about an anti Christers, Roman emperor being high on a hit parade in a freedoms land where we are at the sway of back benchers and d students and the praetor who thought himself a figure in Ovid is long gone, as we are told to cry now for Negros once mass incarcerated by this very corpse they find now. The gal very nice indeed, writes back quickly, Whose Donald Hollinger...? Oh my god, I thought, it really is a dark age, as hag Clinton said, pushing it as Ma would say until she got the black death that her husband has hidden away from as if Vietnam was still going on. But, I quickly changed the typeface, and sent it in, as think there are some out there who agree with me, that another genetic wop hag speaking of henchmen as she and her bagadonuts filth, please, don’t make me tell my what she was doing on October 12th in an election year instead of crying over the imprisoned carcass of a killer of Bart cops, Mayah. I didn’t hurl hot calzones at the mayor’s house, and now have to be forgiven for it. 

 

 

Yes,  the local house wop now demands, again of all years, a Columbus statue come down, may I suggest instead a hanging man from either Venice or Fort Lee New Jersey, or perhaps Kitty Genovese, or maybe the Sacco and Vanzetti that I'm sure the good and decent shall never darken the Earth with. So, please, don't make me tell my what Speaker Lugosi was doing on October 12th in an election year tale, ah the old maid's tale, instead of crying over the imprisoned carcass of a killer of Bart cops, Mayah. I didn't hurl hot calzones at the mayor's house, and now don't have to be forgiven, or worse ignored or lionized by drunks who host the vaunted Tonight show, for it. Then they went and took off Hot in Cleveland and put it on at Two am because Hillary Clinton and her unmarried hags are/ is addicted to being a fucking DAR wife, who tosses salads and wears pearls, uh-huh, the only show with Jane Leeves in it, I liked. Well, I had the prince of shady groves imply that the Satyricon will strike back.

 

https://youtu.be/f9un119lq4c