THE NIGHT THEY STRUCK COLBERT’S SET. 18 July 2025

Trump is better man than I am, as Jesuit Tony would be rubbing the curia's and Mother Hubberd's nose in it all. I want to read the #Epsteinfiles the same way I did pour over the Starr Report. Who again was talking about Iran Contra as the glum and gloomy Lucifer  was murmuring in Shady Graves....why that was me. 

The Democrats and J3ws, sorry, the wops have kept their size of crimes to a smaller take, have never been so low amid the fruited plane. WATCH FOR A CONCLAVE IN WHICH THE COLORDS ARE PEELED OFF AND BE SURE TO WAVE THAT NEEDED TO BE BOUGHT AMERICAN FLAG. 

After the sun had went down, my brother came in to tell me that my arch enemy Steven Colbert HAD INDEED AS I HAD FIGURED SINCE HIS FLAUNTING OF EQUAL TIME LAWS and sadly showing a devotion to his own need to be a imprimatur chewing political big shot and not just carry water for the Curia, had indeed been fired as I said, this time the stopwatch ticks for thee. He told me again I had the crickets of the ruins of flavian's amphitheater truly pegged right and why wont I use a pencil to make marked next to numbers for the next big lotto, and when I do I am always one off, but again am close enlightened more than ample  for gummit work. 

 

 

Now, who saw that coming...? 

So, my brother told me that this smiling cretin was indeed gotten rid of as I predicted with having taken the democratic primary rubber stamp and tired it into a crumbling cookie, and asked if I wanted to get on the magic box and see what happened, as he was watching Newsmax which at this hour I eschew. I wasn't missing Brooke and the Beast for this creep, or Ralph and Ed, although he did tell me that Colbert was not even  brought in and given a heads up or even made to leave the the Cyclops, hat in hand like a rumpled aging image from a Mad primer about ad men. After this, thought of actually watching Law and Order, for a first time in eons, as have taken a liking to the belladonna aspect of the pretty second chair to the nervous shop class valedictorian—always be Casting-- who is immutably mis cast as an Esquire, and with the aids victim from Deltas show as DA, and then of course to Lorelei and her mother comedy. I was in for the night and gradually didn't care enough about our latest CBS victim, our last Tommy Smothers, as pop told me to avoid television and movies with almost his dying breath, as Steverino goes the way of Robert Deniro, as like the Romans hate a traitor, I love treason but I hate a traitor Caesar said, looks whose talkin', the Bush family thinks are all fascists, concigdlaiere James Baker said as much on Charlie Rose  ...first Charlie and now Steverino, and not over broken bar straps, my my the democrats might actually have to buy time. BUT IT ACTUALLY MADE MY BROTHER, SHARPER THEN ME LAUGH, THAT STEVIE wasn't even given a head's up to gave that last moment on the air with a modicum of prescribed ad libs, and had to as they say broken wing it, and if anyone would stay around to fulfill his commitment and live out his act, who wouldn't it be....? Ouch, I said, The Inferno hath no fury like a Redstone prescribed. Never play cards with a man named Doc, never eat pie and a place called moms and mostly never ever do the bidding of a woman whose own husband humiliated her. 

You said, my brother said, that his humiliation would be televised.  That's Swanee River...?!, I said to his laughter, he cares more about this than I do, although I was one of the ones earliest censored for saying #repealandreplaceColbert, as if that wast always in their back pocket. As, what bothered me the most about this smirking creep, yes I had seen that sort of Cheshire cat smile near the boys rooms at Saint Pete’s as some like me were admired by the brethren and herded to Jesuit city Georgetown, and others hanger ons with gentleman’s c’s and with the sort of society of jesuits that held on for dear life amid the Pekenpah swamps and Okeefinokee badlands f the Tallahassee highways, what was so offensive to me that after a life when I was epcayed to admire and take part of demeaning my fathers race as I was supposed to do, and take the ledgers of Shakespeare AS A KIND OF HOLY WROTE OF Antonius’ and Catherine’s long before me, this time in being hurled off of what was it…?, tumblr  for three days over my dislike of a stinking, creepy, catholic bamoiure from the Paraera hills, and being to  love and watch my words over a  clown a pallchci who had his own chat show made me flush with italic rage.

 

 

If I had known an aging cretin would be casting a papered chasse of torn up bought term papers for a d student old coot who they had found finally as educable to George will and the dons of the CIA, had I had at all known any of that, god knows I would have been a better son to a father who told me a Yale professor had sent him a letter on boola boola stationary that we were a family who had somehow survived all this time within and amid the ruins, and that we were indeed related to the general Gneas Julius Agricola, who may or may not be required reading at Yale poisoned ivy colored brick and not Augustan marble walls, dispensing on who and what that old duding man has to make it up to somebody to have stayed in power, as long and as drearily as he had to do In a piece I wrote and have little faith in getting done, or published, called “JULY IS THE MOST IMPERIAL MONTH, IN WHICH I EQUATED THE DEATH OF ALWAYS SCHEMING AND DROOLING Biden TO A CURIA LONG AGO, AND TO A DEAD ANTLER Buck left on route 356, as I have along side I have been able to have a boom in being accepted lately , scene I was one of the few who could say with pride that I hadn’t been so easily lied to along the way and that I knew that eventually Biden would lead them all down the weeds and the dletye of the river Styx as they never had to decency to, like Colbert believe a word of it. So, mister Cerf I must flip over all the NBC cards and say will the next mystery quest sign in pleeeeseee...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v22YbORzDD0

Somewhere Paddy laughs, if not Budd Shulbergh who I never much liked. Its a Toga Party, Hillary dear. As I recall back in the ruins of a Catholic school like Georgetown where I was resenyed as an Italian I could actually go, I must have been wanting to be a mob lawyer, so decent and noble are those who the stole scholastic letters in a death march, I wanted no part of, that I was fingered, as it were, then to write a essay a sonnet, whatever the middlebrows wanted or had room for, and it would be sent for evaluation at the then crumbling and trusted new Yorker as they had no idea then that when they didn't back up their bright schoolboy Capote in his gangrenous haranguing  against the king of CBS that they would indeed pay for it. I wonder tonight if Steverino knows who King Arthur and Tommy Smothers and Daniel Schurr even were, as me and my pop watched that night when the Morrows boy that was Daniel in that sharp toothed hyenas den went off his nut, and caused an always facilitating to the Kennedy graves called then the Democrats, as Daniel showed a devotion to something bounden the even then corralling up the poor to make Martha's Vineyard, called the Love canal and Amittyville then, unto a new Capri for the kind of sissy boys I hated, like Bill Clinton and Obama, who, to be fair, the Jesuits saw through too often back then too. 

I was given an opportunity to write an essay in the image of my poet and my author, even mentioned on the Gilmore Girls Gore Vidal as necessary for the waifs backpack that I never had. I was a making notes on slips of paper sort, and was for an Italian as I was told for the umpteeth time in my life , in case I chewed at the hands that were willing to feed me. I was given an opportunity there that reluctance not many got, as my being from the classical race of Hesparia, who lost everything with Cosnataines baptism, oh wait, it was a now death bed confession,as that signal didn't conquer him until the ends, so you can see stuff like this would be mentioned. It was an essay about imperial loser Remus, aren't we all by now...?, and the bloody plow of the scheming brother and too, a Bodica now as even racists historian admit was a stolen story from an Etruscan queen named, what else Roima, as I had heard father Gore call this rag the police gazette without the warmth and the Capotean friend Cerf say of the twelve Caesars by Vidal, a sort of essay he never wanted to ever seen the Knickerbockers swells pamphlet, ever again. I wrote the piece, disciplining that my hatred for Tolkien and his arsonists leanings dared called fantasy, were just as usual since Shakespeare ripping off Ariosto in an even more degenerate way. 

And, I openly wrote that it as never in my favor, like a hatred for Reagan and Bush, even then, that a love of Gormenghast was never in my profit column. Needless to even recall, that did not go over well with the then pre Vanity Fairing Tina Browns of middlebrow then, the old man from the swifts of Rome had them pegged as I had thought, and had I think a nun whose name I ever forgot give me a look of dismay through pressed virginal corpse lips. I though, for my father, had stood up straight for my race and my genetics against the Scorsese land and movies lionizing boxing animals at that time, and struck a blow against a BBC attempt to make every single one of Willie;s stolen and plagiarized Roman works, Caesars with bluest eyes, with an assists from various Sicilian news papers rewriting a history he had no right to, to use your womanish pleas and words, and having been hurtled from those old dread cove-net rooms, which I now live three blocks from. as it has taken me this long to go that far, I am unsure what became of that chance I had in the alternated cold days of winter to be followed by the bright days of a last summer of Mad Comics then mine, though I doubt, true to the Gore Vidal as seen at a table enjoying life whilst yet another Christian Democratic gummit in old city Rome went down, I did recall my pop telling me of the days in Italian when the then Bush patricians –a romance word un-hated and unsubscribed by them, as Vestals have no place amid the queers of now, god knows, --who I had to make sure they moved Paradiso and Terra to make sure that in 1948 the left alive and starving The Gallery, secret of Santa Victoria Dagos of the crumbling more than ever walls, the Nazi party had left more ruins that there had already been by Barabbas’s long dead, as always wrapped up in superstition and never much liking the pin headed Christies of snake worshiping and babbling tongues, they were certain no mere allow the red army anything close to the street in front of a Flavain amphitheater too grandiose and magnificent for mere barbarians torches to set fire to amid the rapists that even Saint Augustine came to despise. 

I have been told I did a better job with the Biden’s than anyone else did, as I was told when they tried to take a contest winning off of me for writing a book about the Clinton sex scandals back when , which was admired was called cheating cause I took it seriously, as I’d have to having almost been thrown out of school over a boyhood love of pornography then The Satyricon, and now seen as a gem by the gay Advocated, if not a masterpiece of world lusterware by the Times book review when it came up for air , but then for a rag that can be so colonnaded and uncaring about the use of “Genocide” only to brace for the backlash well what they think of the Romans means little to me. I heard the New Yorker , if have enough room may even admit there was a mayors race, or will be, or some such thing depending upon being able to sell its Mad like quality paper in the Robert Mosses--we miss you Lindsay Ellis-- sub Urba that he created for a bus liens seen by early socialists as a free bread, if not Jackie Gleason as comedy fodder when no one else sure did. Jackie never won an Emmy to Carson dismay, but then, a verifiable great actor, Jackie never had that face plastered across the Post as a moment of vendetta made inky as opposed to bloody sacrifice. 

See, again that why I always get in trouble with that sort, as cant just jitterbug my way along and bring up and out a hated wife to eagerly say she loves me, sort of, interita and the valentines of a Visa Card or to dance on the beach as something got past the Guttenberg spokes. So, I did enjoy seeing the monsignor of CBS be the lasts Tommy to go Tilt, sure plays a mean pin ball that one, as he too recalls and records every fat joke made that he was supposedly to bodingly approve of. I was told that I did well, netter than Felix Unger, we were lied to monstrosity, the now better duct taped CNN, I had an inkling that wouldn’t stay as brunettes were laughed at despite themselves, as the unmaking of the president has done well for me, as like real life I kept sightings of Biden like the Sasquatch, sightings to a minimum. Hunter is out there trying vainly to jeep whatever con he had on going, which s why my sharper brother thought he sent out the laptop as to discreet his father, as he warned me would if didn’t get the same pardon that Oliver North did. So I take an almost German like reverence in the sacraments of getting even, vendetta is too Catholic magical a word, a best revenge as again, as Ma would say Revenge is never so sweet as an Italian worth her slay as she was, when you had nothing to do with it, and leave the creep as a victim of signora Fortuna. Oh out of 535 attaches who all think they could or should be praetor, it’s a Petronius virus, one that Gore said can only be cured by sitting shiva, only two came tyo his bedraggled respite, teeth glaring Pocahontas, I wonder though about fellow dark haired Apaches, American Etruscans who didn’t get that seat at Yale, or is it Harvard, whatever, and of course Latka Shifty, who has his own sea of troubles, as I could have said like Woody, the jokes on you Adamo, as unlike the Roman senate they were never racists the Romans, sorry, Remus had to go, unlike those who cant be genociders, because after all Palestinians aren’t, like Human, this one is after all Restricted. I don’t know why people seem almost eager to disagree with me, despite and besides missing out on a wop they might and could use their left over minstercy on, but as I have tried to warn, I do get all the jokes, and I know that anything that Disney Sanitized , like beauty and the beast didn’t come from a page of Italic tales like the Smartest Princess and the frog king, both of which I published as an Italian American girl as a less prissy like Harry Potter, as I would start getting concerned that a Hillbilly with Sallust as a handbook isn’t starting to get ready to make all the crows fly from every belfry he has left. Goodnight Captain Video, wherever you are!  But then, I am, like Jackie Gleason and Johnny Carson, a romantic. 

When sent this image was castigated for mistreated images hateful to American Indians, to which I, smart ass responded, well, see, uhm, I can do Trey Parker too, She is Camilla, the Calabria Sabine Amazon in Virgil, which to Ammiminus explained the Sammentine rapes as Italian girls did look like Patty Fairinelli and Wendy Fiore once. I sold the original to a gal editor there as sometimes happens. 


But, in a moment of kindness, after my brother had asked me if I wanted to take a ten mile drive to a local farm, I did not much, to buy cherry pepperonis , a love of which is requited tio us by our long gene father, as I dressed, my sister took a wooden brush and brushed down my still cow licked hair. She had done something like this before, with another sister who was never my beloved as the elder sister was, when she brought her a comb and asked if she could straighten her younger sisters hair, to which the always on cue and always ready for her close up Montoon as ma called her and her Sarah Heartburn attitudes, made a overdramatic point that the mess on her hair of dyed now ebony was indeed a 75 dollar hair cut from barbare made hairdresser Phillip Pelosi down town at the Mellon center. Eventually, I begged off, and came back after hitting the local dollar general for Capt. Crunch, and a kind of wow pens now no where to be found as another Rite Aid IN OUR DECREMENTED DISNEYLAND BITES THE DUST FROM TOO MUCH HEAVY LIFTING BY THE LOCAL NEGROS WHO KNOW ENOUGH TO NEVER,AS Reverend Pig meat warns, get too close the Apple sto. 

be wary that the senate doesn't run out of money, else it runs out of radicals the next moment.--Lucius Catiline. 

The reason that this all meant something to me now, Is that as I have warned, I am nothing if not the auger of that fallen Roma, then original Etruscan queen stolen like so much by pretend white trash fagots like Cigar Chomping Winnie, who all still doesn’t, despite all the best and worst intentions of fatso Bluto Jimmie Kimmel, as all came to pay tiered respects at again a Shiva that won’t end this time, at the Ed Sullivan theater, so as Lampoon once said goodbye to all of that, New Yorker. George will isn’t my friend mooch less the daffodils on before what was called sign-off , when as the freat Paul  Mooney said, the orgy of television took a breath. That ,before ge started plating turnips on veteran cemetery lands. Why him going though this all now, as even the perpetual bonus boys of south park are knavery that mount Purgatory didn’t come up with Disney like gilding money, ah but then its better to rip off Pirenedllo and Collodi than attempt to understand amid the sanctimonious, like Grimm’s diod, the shady groves of babblers like Basile. Qut There, Coriolanus every night death march is inconceivable to CBS now, is that he will drag the Cyclops through this morass with attaboys from people who would kill him for that desk, the reason that the whole kit and caboodle is being salved, as hes never been funny enough for Roman farce, isn’t it rich, music less Romans tragedy as Augustus wryly said of Plautus, as he threshed the town. Sometimes we stay out here after Dick Van Dyke, some more of that BS of all people Letterman spokes of, he is tow two two Clintons in one!, and shell ask me if THE “GOLDWYN” GIRLS ARE ON, AS Lorelei reminded her of when we had futures. And the biggest joke on Colbert is that the day he was fired was the day that Connie Francis died, although, yes Marcus, she had a fine third act, for a rape victim could. Something tells me Steverino and is ex hero Bill, will not be as loved by Fortuna, as indeed it always does catch up to the second person, singular.