SEE JANE RUSSELL RUN.

 

 

 

APRIL 24TH 2025. 

 

This was the year despite being lectured to about sanctimony and a dislike of hate speech for a goon who was a rabid anti DE-Segregationist, let that sink in ladies, this was the year I was bollixed by being told , because of a single line in a piece extolling an America of Jane Russel and Joe Clifano and who hated them both, that i must be a national socialist because i said I windered how all those Jews let a show like Hogans Heroes on the air. Hunnie, I emailed back, dearie, i know I'm the prince of subtlety, but I dispense of Germany and its love of barbarians taught math, like Cornelius Tacitus, their Prussian attempt at Romanticism bothers me, I LIKE dancing girls as much as he died, but that's another story.

 

If I were ever a President, no bowing house Negro GATING ANTI BUSING SLOB, would I be, and would carpet bomb German, juts out of general principal, like the wayward and rabid and crumbling Bush family did to say, the house of antiquities, which holds the clay tablets upon which Gilgamesh was stolen to make a later bible. Hello...?, hello...? I never get the sanctimonious come back when ask how many sopranos did you good white women watch. And too, some fat bloat at the BBC, on you tube, when not trashing a royal they shoved at us until she derided, to piss on Diana-'s newsprint Pantheon, or wear the same dress or something, anyway, remember as half black, dear, you're juts a brunette to them mammie,dear, dared to try to say that there were either no Romans, little green men made that frst pantheon, you know like the pyramids, ah the Brethren taught me the jaundiced eye makes everything yellow, and too, even if there were there were no dark ages, a phrase innuendo coined a lesser Dante, an Italian and where did teh barbarism invasions end up, ah no month of white girl co ed sanctimony for you, Guido, who they were placing forward as the Italian national poet,cause that's what they can do when white, unmarried and on scholarship.

 

 

Well, I  remember not too long ago when Presidents loved Brunettes and Ovid, as opposed to now we have an old coot who as god knows how many babies die because daddy has to fy around looking for formula in new Sparta, old Havana, after the fall, who seems to be teetering now with some you'd thought would be devoted , at least until thirteen clowns are making old man Rover stay up post hisbeddy bye time and actuality think on his feet, and answer partisanship of his labors hatchet men, who all now smell blood. They, who all think they have enough knives to become Caesar after all.


So there is the justification of this book I send now, ANCIENT ROMANCE, part of a thousand page panorama in the best Virgil, Livy or at least MGM, I can come up with, just not Stan Kubrick please, I don't ever disavow any work of art of mine like it was boilerplate I have to now pretend I didn't say, like Biden calling darkies animals out to rape grandma, which again as he telegraphs everything, like an idiot do. Oh here comes the weekend binges of Cheers with the cute brunette, prettier and funnier than any blond the cast grew to hate, but its all intertwined at least to me, now demeaned for writing the way out of Calvino that the Jesuits and my mom made me write to avoid white women's canticles of see Jane run, run Jane run.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EhZba-P7R18

 

So, this is a book about the first great empire of Italy, The Etruscans and that has a menacing auguring as Disney is in tatters weeks after a Wendy Fiore-less as the blue fairy, and Tom Hanks as Ghepetto in yet another Pinocchio, which I noted didn't get the assault on those who didn't like it, no it just slipped away, no collected subjects to screech at the people about like some missteps have at the Magic Castillo of crossed destinies. I noticed who played in that movie, despite central casting by laws, it crumbles and bumbles , showing a fsh rots from the head, or in this case, hair plus. This is a long story about the one time the invaders were less civilized than the noble savages they supplanted, Romans vs. Etruscans , about a Bishop, a last pope who existed in a city I have anglicized into Laurentium, as he writes down all he can think of of his sandpapering race, as he has paid to make sure it will be in the library of Alexandria, which I found in my boyhood taught Franciscan nun research, like Oxford, always had a price for what they let in, and what they did not. It is classically minded, dare I say, in a land where the people of Beatrice, the Sicilian school and the Roman republic and Yvonne De Carlo in youth, are redacted to self righteous smarmy wholefoods eating Kosher Jews telling is all to stream Tulsa king, between their now mistrials over their rapes, as again, I read the Satyricon years ago, like some, and so I am not shocked that there is real anger out there among the swells, that as little kids cant fnd formula in this war zone, and may be dying of the same phlegm that took Italian grandmothers, they are upset that their dietary laws of sanctimony and fascination were toileted by a an old goon from a state that is basically a fake store front, and a straw man for money laundering, served the purple sashed, bad clams. I make these connection to say to the sanctimonious

times and their memorized belief systems, and their euphoria chants of liberalism allowing a segregationist who have eulogies to Strom Thurmond, as disposed to mere dinner satiation, that looking around, i can pretty much assure anyone, that despite months handed over to hear tom toms, and Harlem slumming noises, that every month in a decline and fall is after all Roman history month.

As the senate becomes the plutocrats that cried wolf, and that is a disease that comes to readily when you let trash like Robert DiNero too loose to the Roman artifacts, a reason a Sicilian has never been anything close to a Caesar a pope or a doge, as it were, the democrats awake today to find themselves at the lowest ebb ever. All i know is that for all those unelectable ethnics that caused a common cause between George will and Joe Biden, if not a Clinton who looked askance at both, that in the darkest bleakest days of greeks who gave out clemency, an act that caused a unrepentant , unworthy Bush to sneak into the white house, on a lowest Dystopian in all ways,  road to the freon lake, they languish and bleed at 21 percent approval. But like a gentry man, such a come down from a curia perch, they think of the cake they have dropped on the floor, its okay, it still is okay as they try to get the vomitorium grime off it. Why has Rachel Maddow, even scurrilous I think Madcow too..., yuch,and so  see previous post said the word tariff more in a month than she said “war” in twenty years…ah we miss you mister Mike, as war is not Unprofitable  to General Electron and its war caucus of barbarian Odinian death, and when asked if I’d make that into a poster like back cover for a now returning to traditional etches lefty magazine, its always a mistake, as Lucius could have told you to ruin a rich sanctimonious mans 100,000 ride no matters what he or she or them or those tick tock and victory dickery dock, the rat went down the Columbia clock…why is that, but when thought about it , I again declined, as did for something for another gal well wisher asked me to do,  as there is an unviable line in unviable sand that I can not cross. 

https://youtu.be/h6m4SOp41tE?feature=shared

A new low for those houses n’s too good for Geraldine and Michael and snl shows again a line i have used since the admiration of Georgetown priests, that satire is what bleeds on a Saturday night. On a network that screams and screeches for their sympathy for the rich, unlike Mario who spoke of a tale of two cities, now the only city is eldorado, which a tip of the feathered cap to Sparta, it seems that an empathy for those who have to pay any tariff in freedom's land and gods little acre deos indeed , as Niccollo warned engender resentment, and all the milk is curdled, and all the eggs are rotten and full of sulfur. A house coon on armamentarium television rails against the “them” that are American always to his breed of government mules, beaten as they always are since brother man Hannibal, a alpine chancer which got other African kings from whose elephants he stole to come to the roman senate and lay their own crowns down, but alas, we have Denzell speaking of the Roman they even as Severus, or whomever, and this house coon bitching about this late the fact that this time this dey wanted no part of black woman Kammilla, to whom again it was a insult to Colbert's mouseketeers to ever compare that braying fly girl emeritus, yo anyone in the Aeneid, much less a Calabrian Amazon, sorry Nancy meant to say emerita, as the vowels in Latin are in deed everything damn the lesbians, old lady, i didn't get thai far to be seen by forbearers as again, a credit to my race. And the house coon breys and  bitches about a felon like Trump, see crime bills are your land deal swindel when b’den is your Daniel, although it lost some oomph that he was being stewarded through his diatribe by the sparkling twinkling, weathergirl emeritA see…?, as she overbites and glassy eyed and sun inn ed and sparkled so as the new Bess Myerson- Betty Furness  trailing us, auguring the a GE  drone and or Frigidaire was in our American dream all along. 

 

 

 

 

And speaking of Jane Russell, a weaning attached to her by me that made a lesbain laugh and accepted one of my otherwise hated pin up girls, i note that it was unseemly to hear this at a tower of war incorporation, You hast conquered Mc kane Feingold, the Feingold part really shot it through, cue mister mike, war is not unprofitable too children and other living things at taverners on the green , it was so very hollow as on the unemployment line are Joys and other brunettes unspeakable to GE legal departments. Late in the month of the etruscan naked boy man soldier whose visage covered in blood was accepted by a magazine, along with the anti war loving John Boltin away from the front that this mass of chicken hawks has made this fruits plane, i saw that my boyhood hero of mine, shocking to me,Robert McGinnis, the Raphael of signet paperbacks had left this increasingly fetid earth, as big a cesspool as pop ever called it. 

 

I was not saddened as much as shocked, an the 99 year old man who spet a life in oils and drafting great dames, mike hammers and private eyes and femme fatales was gone, and did as sometimes do as a good wop, drank a drink to him as we are , as Gore said when Mrs Roosevelt died, we are indeed alone. I thought of the pompous garbage of wokendess and smirking fairies at king Arthur's seat, the ghost of Desi nowhere to be seen, as I still get views for the decency of ghosts and about the idea of when not ministers of parliament, always Alfred E Booutichick it seems, by both Gore Vidal and William f Buckley were on with played it straight for his own benefits Johnny was on the midnight sleepless airs. A toast to Robert and his many dangerous gals, now recplex with screeching hags who knew are all in a stock market the radicals hated once, but that was before Bill Clinton taught them the true arts of forgery, if not foraging. I thought of the holly golightly and Raquel's he anointed with linseed oil as goddesses, sometimes knife wielding, sometimes with danger in watercolory eyes, before all the Bertha's became tweed and worse Iron maiden brazzers wearers and indeed it seems for more than who thought it or hasn't yet, that the fat Freida, the overfed pigs of the imperail vomitorium, a state bulimia, quoting the dreaded Homer and his Ulysses of conniving and wodne horses that i'm sure that as certain jesuits saw cumming, as indeed sung.