THE CORN SUPPLY.

My brother notes out to me that in his neo-fascist, cheery, rag, the WSJ, that the price of Porridge alas have indeed on command gone up. The corn supply, he says, Is not what it was under Lucius, he says, using my backhanded compliments. Three ex praetors all laugh, on the same page. Elixer is just slow poison My Mother warned me.  Yes. But which one here read Marcus Aurelius...? I believe it will matter eventually, because unlike some with affirmative action for blue eyed stregas and fathers who had to pay through the noses to get junior that Yalie diploma, sometimes barefoot Marius will remember to the end when the Roman roads burned his bare feet. Like how I remember when poppy was being beatified by CBS hags, and was laid to rest, and the look Jebby shot this imbecile Remus as he was laughing it up as the funereally mc and all, and how he made a point to praise Trump that day...Now Dooley was a good old man he lived beneath the livery tower...I MUST say quickly as juggle too much, that the idea that a TV cow pig was sewing his puppets while your grandmas died, for a remake of what Jon Stewart used as an an excuse for what a pig sty he was surrounded by making crack phone calls, wow, that has me, who tried to make this all an artful Decameron again, fully and sadly stumped. But announce, Ernest T Bass will ride again...

All I know is that Bidey can destroy all he wants to, but the Romans gods punks like him always fear will never destroy Rudy, the Camillus, on the burning citta, before they give a good swift wack at the imbeciles who on nine eleven who were hiding in the Senate cellars or worse, in the gym in his stolen imperials airship the Ambra, as dumb Wop Rudy was at every funeral for every plebe who died that day, while not too long later Bidey was at the funerals of Henry Hyde and Strom fucking Thurdmoin. He will he destroyed, I predict by a man who has a Tacitus bound as it were, in leather. 

A note from Prariea, as it seems that Corn, the Curea, the corn supply, once so important to roman plays misappropriated and mis-announced by Shakespeare and his fagy Juliette’s, has sky rocked in price, an that’s been an important thing as it were since old Cornelius was upset at the going on naps at Capitoline’s that never add to, like chicken coops, go behind devils wire. I wonder of that will have an affect, as my brother, sharper than I will ever be, and more loved by the brethren despite his open distain of them, said to eat your Porrage, as wonder of that corn price fixing may or may not affect those who have a  talent to eating shit. Shady Grove I’m in love going away from cheer, Shady Grove, I’m in looooveeee… 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=icWkyedURkM

In the last thirty days, I have had 1.68 visitor's to my original blog, ACRIRADIOCOMIX, which I can’t put the .com here as spitting down wards has become the national pastime, especially when Liberians play the role of Livia and dying old segregationists try to be Augustus in our cockeyed production of Robert Graves. Augustus…?, shit old man, you’re not even Clinton. Why is this important…? Because the publication of Emma and The Prince of Crows, and lately Reqviem, had brought a flood of notice to both ello and blogger accounts, in one of the best turnarounds for me and all the Italian grandmothers I spoke of all year while you hailed the goon man who was killing old ladies in old folks homes for a dying curia, showing again, I was right at the beginning, before the beginning of this, when wrote an earlier published piece at a Medium account called the Manzoni papers. Unbelievably, again before any of this third act, I had the temerity to say in freedoms land, that as an afterthought, a brother who never liked Clinton, Biden, or even Stewart and Colbert as the spit bucket holders of hooligans, I dared say #RepealandreplaceColbert, and who knew how beloved he was, and can be when clown who spoke of Fiascos each night and mess-opatamias, could and would come to the defense of a shit eating cretin like Dubya, who saw the detritions of Trump as his best way out of the lower Hebrides and Siberia of being a yob of the annals of imperial here. To think bad enough I wouldn’t say anything about your Jewish in laws minstrel show the Sopranos, along with the B'nai B'rith and Russle Baker who saw the reasoning’s behind that slop, but now being censored over not liking a filthy little clown who actually told heads of CBS he wouldn’t be political as long as he got the destiny for which he had been sending out death threats in the wings of this imperial fiascoes, heaped like W’s bad grades upon catastrophe. I certainly wouldn’t tempt fate by fucking over the Rudy who stood on the burning citta like Camillus, over some chicken eating cheerleader who that day was in the cellar, and or the imperial airships gym. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JA5sWzTFhqY

Why this matters. 1.861 k, is that this is the first time I have broken 1000 at that site scène I was censored, early on, like women they had to get a running start to all of this, before it trickled down, an idea that Biden came to the defense of, against Father Bush even, when the rest of the democrats Cuomo’s and my father were trashing Reagan. Since how it took me 15 months to get a piece, Reqviem published now in a literary magazine, and had to actually turn down another acceptance on submittable, as had to admit that got it published somewhere else only days before and forgot to take it out of contention elsewhere. I said I would eventually be heard for this blank verse, for my Mother, dying early at this, as she loved Manzoni as my pop loved Dante, and I am not one of the affable loveable wops who throw mud and false detergent blood at each other. This is important, because in 15 months, full of Lucy, uncle Joe, Donna Reed and Oscar and Felix and lately reruns of the Match game in which the collected starts don’t carry water as much as trash Carter as he was on later Maudes, I must says saw at that same time, A BIGGER CHECK, where a goon piggish thug who was cone a name sued as a punch line as a joke in fag shows, wants to go back to puppetry and crank calls, a thing that Jon Stewart sued , again, as a reason he couldn’t be as big a big shot as his mother had hoped, as could say he was NOT  some voice of his less than Howling generation as he was on a channel where Vulgar Muppets did crank calls, and the latest Gene Raeburn just this Saturday afternoon had quietly his show red-lighted, and passed on, as Losing Ohio means you’ve been made a BLANK. See I stopped watching SNL when they laughed it up with old dying coots and coons with purple sashes who bombed hospitals and Roman ruins and now kill grandmothers for seats that are losing a leg, and now the Players aren’t ready for the stink of Musk. Didn’t Trump do that show not a discouraging word, ah but he was buffo box once, and that is the thing that Ovid said you can’t have if you want to be an elite, sorry Lorne. I think America didn’t need but I saw the weathervanes pointing in that general era when Robert Goulet  and Charles Nelson Reilly and Donatella Versace had to be lampooned for the Jews and the in laws, while the senatorial class got their cranks lubed. Sorry Tina you can call yourself Juvenal all you like…Please tell half breed hag Maya –is that named for the Roman goddess of the earth, or the noble savages, does it matter…?-- Rudolf, that this cow Camilla wasn’t the first woman to run for vice, sorry, and tell her to tough up and be ready as Geraldine was, to get her ass kicked, Hunnneeee. 

I did get my Etruscan poem to Ma published, and not just defamed or even white out’d by the goons and their unmarried women, and I did speak of Ma and the kingdom of the first Heaven and I did make Barretta into the Romantic Cyrano he once was, when Carson ruled late night and never had to use death threats, again before any of this. I can proudly say as the Jesuits had made me, and that bothers some who openly ask me if I was sexually molested by them, as a Bush family maid would hope, but say no in fact, they loved me, and you can only abuse that witch you hate, Hillary dear, so happy Anniversary. And I owe my parents, who feared the slope to hell that at least my father always thought this was, I made artfulness out of this as best I could, while dregs like Andie poo and his button man brother were busily carrying political vegetable stew out to the plebs. AS BEING political now seems doubly heinous, and so, as again, thanks to mother’s beloved Manzoni, not for nothing eight or nine on Clintons list of favorite books, a personal Alexandria that someone who didn’t have to buy term papers spoke of, and that she kept in her little sewing stash, humnnn, and recalling him and his silk spinners and pretty, praying, duchy girls teaching a soul that old segregationists never have had, and that Old Uncle Bill, never seemingly had either. As he let me down by not being the Mister Haney I thought he was. I saw a game show channel will be showing Broadway intoned Passwords, and Steven Sondheim on What's my Line…?, the coming week and can’t wait to see how they made Superman fly on the stage, again, as I did when I was ten,  as have to admit even then, I saw it all coming in the holidays of fog.