#WITCHTOBER 25 OR THE PLEBIAN WATCHES.

 

“STAR OF THE CIRCUS.“

But then, when Jimmie Kimmel is your perfect Virgil, you get what you deserve. make sure your Caesars from Wall street eat what the foot soldiers eat, at least for show. Jesus Christ isn’t my lord and savior, easily when I’m Blotto Blutarsky on ABC, as that doesn’t end well. When I was a kid, I WANTED TO BE a lot of things, from like Orson Welles, CC Beck, Gore Vidal, Tennessee Williams, Dante even Ovid, and Paddy Chayefsky, but even I never wanted to become Lee Grant. Ask Lorne Michaels, if he even remembers anymore.

 

"CHEERLEADER RED”

Next time you find a champion of your satanic dreams masquerading as politics try to find a bloated pig who didn’t spend all his arguments on doing black face, saying Ni88ers as a joke, wasn’t it all once…?, or wagging his tongue at girls asses at observation decks. When the overweight witches and unmarried hags are fibbing séances at police stations as blacks scream for them to shut up, don’t mention your lord and savior Christ, Jumbo, cause you look like a whore in a chapel, as the italics grandmothers would say. 

"CHEERLEADER BLUE"

 its best to not call everyone else a racist, I figure, as there are still pictures of you as Jolson. Hey, fatso, you did black face, hey just like fellow employee of the month Uncle Remus, so can the vault not beckoned more. We miss you Wally Wood. As the priests taught me make sure that sanctimony doesn’t become your suicide note. I would have thought that dago bag men who’d trash Megan Fox were interchanged and a dime a dozen, Just like Disney once thought, too. ITS NOW COMING APPARENT THAT THE DEMOCRATS ARE SO BESPOTTED, HARD LUCK, THAT THEY FOUND THE ONE MARINE IN Maine who had a SS tatoo, making Bernie Sanders eat it as he is meant to since Marcus Agrippa. Zippidee doo dahhhh,…

 

“FLOWERS”

As My ,pther said of Hillary, or Regina della Stragas, LIKE Potter Stwert she jnew thenm when she saw them bubbling and troubling.  the nest time you demand devotion, gun, start with your husband. art with your husband, cause you’ll be amazed how much worse the people willing to give it you have been. AS THE ITALIANS SAID, a sanctimonious idiot is the worse sort of idiot of them all, cause I wasn’t the one screaming about racism with pictures still available of me as Jolson. 

“PUMPKINS”

What always bothered me about Hillary Clinton, queen of witches, was actually her leash, and how shed accept the lowest form of accolade, being admired by your enemies when they thought they needed to. I never thought hubby would be so venial, but who knows what meaningless, by now,  FBI file she holds over him and no one else. As it is disconcerting to have to have A BIGGER CHECK PORCINE thug Jimmy Kimmel on ones side, as one must avoid anyone with a road to Damascus’s that has a drive through at the Wendy’s. 

 

“MAIL GIRL” 
But the true pinch line, and I recall when @jimmumimmels very byname or his dumb wop family members were a Meathead acceptable punch line, like shtick it is Roman at its core, was that television was NOT  done with the crying, blabbering jackass house wop Jimbo, who is either crying, staging or vicious, and can somehow call others racists as he like every wop at a bigger check did black face. it appears that TV land is hemorrhaging women and female viewers as never before. 

  

 "CHEF."

I know this shedding of woman by the cyclops, or Minos or whoever monsters this has become, as an elder sister has had enough TV, which would have dumbstruck my father who told me once not to watch so much televisions and its made you stupid and did I want to end up as cockeyed as my unmarketable sis…? And now even cowboy games are ignored, in the ted plains. But Paramount is now bringing back Leah Remini Like the Italian Juliette, Patricia Heaton, and mostly tow hours of Valerie Bertinelli, a boyhood Beatrice, and Lauren Graham, as they were despite for any women to ckem back to the showboat, as the nuns told me all thought which is counter intuitive is correct, and they fill of the rest of the day with four episodes pf Dick Van Dyke, whose Laura herself, is in the unfettered public domain. LETS ALL GO DOWN TO THE SHOWBOAT, ISN'T Ava in that...? 

“EARRINGS.”


They wish to place a 20,000 dollar bounty for anyone willing to kill anyone who kills a cop, well, before I killed anyone, Id make sure that the cashiers check was drawn and held at a third party bank., cause I aint taking no Jewish IOUS from Soros, cause I juSt know hell be making sure that its all caught up in loopholes. But then, I am an Italian, and no Italian worth his salt ever thought a killer was anything other than a venial criminal, a full of shit ‘revolutionary‘, no coins with Brutus face on them for me, or worst of all, a laughed at clown in a bloody circus on cable television.

“MASQUE”

@jimmyKimmel has lost, seen as watched Banion out the corner of my eye, 71 percent of his audience, already not ben hur to begin with. I am always glad to see a clever than not wop go down the drains as the wa[ps spere gievs buzz away as it happens to most of them.

"WAITRESS."

 

Finding the spec script I did for a reunion of #Gilmoregirls, I think I might take it and make it into one of the novels that they bet you can't wright in 30 days. It was my admiration for Lauren Graham that made me bother at all, as she is a siren who made me dare to actually watch Colbert, as my brother noticed that CBS showed its power and glory.  Not so much breakfast but a late supper at the local Audi's and not Tiffany's. When I went to catch Elsbeth it had already been on for a half hour, as a final f you to our smirking Petronius, AS WE HAVE JUST LEARNED THAT 60,000 human beings will be shed at amazon, and another 200 at mount Purgatorio, which means a happy Saturnalia, or Baconanalia for that matter, from your friends at Paramount. 

@lateshowwithstevencolbert.

 

 

“GLOVES”
I missed the first midnight Gilmores, as watched with glee another interchangeable team in the NFL named for cats, beat heroically and dramatically, nothing that they have tried to outlaw in that league, over the now almost Patriot hated Kansas city Faggits, as that bloom is off the cherry blossoms. But it was great watching the somehow unperturbing to the noble savages, let's all do the tomahawk chop when ABC says its okay, as mister Cosell he’s gone.   

 

 

"SPELL."  

 

Ah finally, we see the convergence of parallel lines as il Duce called it, with a over dramatic sort of dago brilliance, as now, the rhino Trojan horse, as we we will see what happens when the war party machine and its armimentarium at Rockefeller center, has its Comey chorus going one way, and the lebsos under vestal @rachelmaddow go back to the woods and the wolves from which they came. Now does Hillary recall it was Efrem Zimbalist over here to scuttle-butted her battleship and or smyte her ass….is Bismarck a herring…? And not to lose the irony, received an acceptance on October 12th of a Tennessee Willaims like ekphrastic poem about the ruins of Tuscan Veii, as I said in mid Bill and Monica as Ovidian tragic love, some of us will never be acceptable wops, like it or not. Bill Clinton didn't live this long to become a god damn viking or a conquistador, as he has a history as I can vouch for showing up at the sons of Italay that AOC never will. 

 

 

“GOTH”. 
I saw where Capote once said he never got a rejection letter until he was past 50, and sent the dreaded new yorker who again plays a part in A town called passion, sent in la cote basque, and the friends and phoneys there then refused it, causing even enemy Gore to say, that middle brow rag was the police gazette without the warmth. This was my own Music of chameleon's, as I have said, which it even being sent to some two bit crime publisher bothered them in recently, maybe implying an italian school boy with Lorelei, or Loretta, was able to be working at a new yorker called Knickerbocker. Serial killer was so beneath them and passe, funny now, as like Netflix is using, like, three not to go bankrupt.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ajw8MM4 

 

 

“AMULET.” 

Anything that happens to the party of New York slime and jewish and fat chick war company cheerleaders and water carriers that was too good for Mario Cuomo but not too good to see a someone like Joe Biden and not pass by, is fine by Roman me. 

TEA. 

AGAIN WITH A STAGE ELIXIR OF SPITE FROM THE GLADIATORIAL LEAGUE, barreled cheated. Dimwit. Gaius rotten Rozell, Godell, genuflect when you say that pal, is planing dissented of anti Katy Perry, accepted Betty Taylor Swift in as the pencilsed half time circus at the coliseum , hinted of her, putting in a spick transvestite, sorry Bush family, but the Romans again were a millimeter from the spot. He is already telling is that we must learn Spanish in four months to hear his warbling, negro stolen, music’s, and I thought, why is that never brought up that what he forbears aside to the Apaches. They have like aoc until lately ignored some Italian histories month I’d eh-sew as Scorsese didn’t, the evil eye is taking its toll. New Jersey is unraveling you say, Dan, back after these words that the democrats still havent paid Payly fer. And why would the gladiator prince bring the wops up…to have Gino Marquetti noticed …? 

“ELEMENTALS.” 

Why does this acceptance matter, besides the resume, funny but the sanctimonious houses of stolen merch are not above inside jobs amid the preening, Clinton-ism forever, it is that when i was a boy, my father , unprodded by me, bought me a copy of Tennessee Williams Small Craft warnings, which were pilloried by the kelly girls and daffodils who wrote for the rags of new Amsterdam then, and like the mentioned by the great new Columbo Elzbeth, Merrily we roll along it is now safe to admire geniuses in the land where the ink stained acres of the rotten apple circus, is now seen as a master work of poetic drama ass seen in Tuscan free verses. The Romans were the actors who lost the Greek masks as even Tacitus knew to always show up at the plays in which the ingenue was played by the prettiest dancing girls of the Roman west end. 

 

“HANDS”

ah Niccolo's frozen moment of realization, when the dumb wops thinks something is wrong, but their vacant eyes just cant figure out what. I spent the year watching a shitload of #gilmoregirls, and bug out when the delightful aging beatrice Lauren, with the piltdown man, whose lack of chemistry and toupee reminds me of a color of verdant masculinity i call Lorne Green. But the high point of the week was hearing that a self righteous pet food slop called Fresspet may be killing off dogs. 

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/10/23/fashion/francis-ford-coppola-watch-auction.html

“ASTRONAUT”

As last night on a Dick van dyke show my other sister likes to watch, guess who was on but Sheldon Leonard, doing a wop act that let this jewsh macher have a career and a mask he could use to exert television power that even the j3ws didn't have. So, as the wops of a bigger check falter and try to play their mafioso games, do know the people have gone away from your acts and traveling gypsy shows, returning the favor miser Shakespeare, go ask to whom you can now sell your light beer and campbells soup and pepsodent, after all. Even Gypsies and Italians and @Billclinton know never to spit at the audience, as no Bushian anti faciste when fatso was the Prince, eh…?, as nothing is less conducive to a life in the theater than spite. 

 

“PAINTER”

As i ask every fall and every Columbus day the collected bribe takers pf the curia and too good to march in anymore, do the Etruscans ever count to the sanctimonius politicos of murder llc as they have made the party once too good for Mario Cuomo,, and do they wonder at times why new Jersey is slipping away.

“WARRIOR” 

I don't drink rum punch. AS @JIMMYKIMMEL, @GEORGEWILL AND @billclinton MUST KNOW BY NOW, never change Trojan horses in mid stream. I augured that before too long the residue and ruins of the Clinton battalion would sadly gather to cross 5th avenue and the geriastic fetuses replacements just did. Sad that bill Clinton's youth of Tarzan and mad and Patty Farinelli led him to this beleaguered spot, on the wrong side against the Romans in Mudville, and with the girlie armed sissy's beaten by the over fed, mannish, hags. I saw on a cartoon website that the electric cardboard cartoon was told to knock it off, once got somebody killed, but, more importantly 2000 more wage slaves, not in middle management or CEOS, will be shed at purgatory hill, so a happy Saturnalia begins from your friends at the Cyclops.

 

 

“BLACK.”

I will always know who hated Columbus and Machiavelli first, girls at the high collared magazine. I don't cry or apologize to stay an elite at the cafeteria. 

SHAMAN.

I hate halloween, as though as i have pointed out, and gotten flack for saying there is no real Germanic Samenheim or whatever as Odin and Thor are merely comics books or a reason for child killing in the perpetual woods my father said was this wasteland was, as he hated Norman Lear for telling us how to vote from the cleansed altar of where some Jewish macher put on Gilligan's island like it was an epic of paramount importance. 

“Stewardess.” 

So I Hate halloween, it based on a pre Roman italic festival, aren't they all…?, but the death of things is always beats virgilianly hinted at and when it becomes so apparent and camp, so Romero, well, it could only mean there the war loving dream courts having given up any hope of ever winning anything again. 

On a Halloween festival show on some channel pretending to know history, the kind that nourishes its reputation by giving whole days of programming to William Shatner stripped episodes about how the world may end in 2012 space archaeologists may say, although that is never held against the noble savages ever not once, as like jews they wrongness always comes from some doomed and blind god somewhere. 

 

“DRESS.” 

On this show the history of Halloween as much as anything a history of the mm mars company, maybe it was the food that made America or something like that, ki saw film genius brilliant filmmaker John Carpenter whose Halloween came out when i was a still Jesuit pre laws schoolboy, and Donald Pleasance was fresh from Columbo, I recall entering a contest of his, or where he was a big wheel there, and i posted Roman Mythology, and did get a nice response from him then, around 2008 or so. He was to me a genius science Starman, and he was impressed, story of my life, never get a dinner, in that my kiler, like his was no EC monstrosity, speaking of Shatner, and mine went one better in that he was a wop in a brooks brothers suit, with a indigo tie, and a .38, as i am nothing of not subtle.But sine he killed not cheerleaders and girls and since he spat on the graves of other bankers at the time, well, i still get upsettedness when dare send out the original with the stuttering Claudius. 

 

"DINER."

On a Halloween festival show on some channel pretending to know history, the kind that nourishes its reputation by giving whole days of programming to William Shatner stripped episodes about how the world may end in 2012 space archaeologists may say, although that is never held against the noble savages ever not once, as like Jews they wrongness always comes from some doomed and blind god somewhere. 

 

 

 

THE GIFT.  

On this show the history of Halloween as much as anything a history of the mm mars company, maybe it was the food that made America or something like that, ki saw film genius brilliant filmmaker John Carpenter whose Halloween came out when i was a still Jesuit pre law schoolboy, and Donald Pleasance was fresh from Columbo, I recall entering a contest of his, or where he was a big wheel there, and i posted Roman Mythology, and did get a nice response from him then, around 2008 or so. He was to me a genius science Star-man, and he was impressed, story of my life, never get a dinner, in that my kiler, like his was no EC monstrosity, speaking of Shatner, and mine went one better in that he was a wop in a brooks brothers suit, with a indigo tie, and a .38, as i am nothing of not subtle.But sine he killed not cheerleaders and girls and since he spat on the graves of other bankers at the time, well, i still get upsettedness when dare send out the original with the stuttering Claudius. 

 

 

 

 

"HEALER." 

Now on Halloween itself, I must ask, why did I spend the month of October in our hard sell falls less year drawing penthouse pets found in internet archive girls of penthouse and old playboys collated there, as witches or pin ups or the vestals that where both…? Well, it was a spite from me and my tired eyes of their lesbian circus saturnalia, their perpetual Halloween as bizzaro Obams showed themselves as usual willing to kill a higher level of victims than they are sued to in the hoods.

 

 

 

“RUIN.” 
 I did spend a lot of the year wasting, well, mostly at night, the Gilmore Girls, finding its Venus Beatrice, no not the daughter but the mother, Lauren, the only person in this strangest meld of Oh Calcutta meets the Inferno THE ONLY REASON ID WATCH. I didn’t stay around, can’t watch this pastoral poems to new England and sociopaths, and as first time, the smiling blond sissy boy beloved by Rory, a Newspaper Kane, ah nostalgia, made me wince at the womanish drag this sadness became, and so I did the artists challenge that I don’t usually do, ending up with 41 sketehs and drawn woman, the kind bill Clinton likes, sorry coven, Shady Groves will never be your blaring witch project. So, do men with roman titles, starve the people as you hang onto power, tell the plebes no free bread for you, from the Jewish lifer senator prince, no less, as this is the way police race away and the Appian way burns, but what do I know. And best part of the moth that began as a cartography of the end of sniggering then crying then devoted to the newest lie Sicilian clown on a bigger check, Jimmy Kimmel, as somehow became Gore vidal after a life as Blotto BlutaRski, see it was satire of pigs when he waged his tongue at girls unaware asses, as he takes off the edge of the earth,where the dragons keep their lairs, then too did all the wops start crashing then splattering like colostomy bags against the Roman concrete. And great Move to the biddy eyed Jewish clerks of Biden, you managed to put under surveillance the senators, that’s senators, who happen to be the biggest loud mouths in the senate for crimes against the act of making Bill Clinton first lady. So, kill whoever you want, ladies, but as ma would say make sure mud, or worse, gets on Bill Clinton s Gucci shoes. Though I am sure he had nothing to do with it, as it was absolutely the wronged un- Machiavellian move. All the rivulets of hell lead to Kennebunkport. And Francis ford Coppola speaks of being fire sales into a poverty he derives, with left only plebeian watches, which MADE me think of Fred Flintstone, also hated by my pop, with a sundial on his wrist, shewing less a Francisco Giucciardini when it came to history,  as he was to Hanna Barbara. 

 

“CAMILLA.[ PRINCESS.]”

Then, having seen Halloween turn from a bright day, almost on cue, into a dark and stormy night, my brother brought us some late afternoon candy, but it was heavy on the peanut butter, which I am fanning a middle aged aversion towards, anyway, but eat them. Into the night, I found a rerun channel, you know the kind that sprang into action this year when Colbert and his reapers and banshees and off Broadway grimaces started to bleed woman viewers and even I didn’t see that coming, by putting on the later shows of the end of television city, though Lucy is still a mainstay bothering Jewish ratty Seinfeld for erosion's unknown. We sat here me and my sister a victim of this oppressive, barbarian, new Rome as much as anyone, as it by now degenreates into a new messianic, with the Bush family less the Borgia's or Estes on the central Plains than they are a tribe of Dante’s bags of shit all Sicilian genteels are. 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSa-nmeorCk

 

We watched the great monsters ball of Universal monsters played for laughs, and the still desrenbaly beautiful Yvonne Decarlo who I ha dto get into it once with some self important hag sure she wnast even partially Italian, so Coppola did what he was asked to, a life time of slurs coming to and that my father could have told him was in the spaghetti water, employed after the Jewish TV clowns found out UNESCO found a spaghetti machinery in a Tuscan grave, which brought up more problems that they would have liked. After that show the double feature of Gilmore did return the poor, unraveling , less cute and less vivacious Mother and daughter to a less happy ending then the womanish writers here gave to fatso best friend audience stand in, cook with delusions of grandeur tv loves. Melissa McCarthy. Like the rats of the town is more Inferno than theyd thought, who early on knew husbands and spawning was the high life for her. But tonight on Halloween, she , Lorelei returned to her original state, with her daughter, as I always thought Sal Mineo Jess that was the sofa jumped. There she goes, the soundtrack went, and how!. As the gruff but unlabeled barista had to go from THE PART OF one sane man to a stalker, as I either predicted or made apparent in now own serial killer opus, as Richard Bloch’s toilet jokes are everywhere. Not interested anymore knowing that we are headed towards a cul de sac and the vindication of the One tree hill student sadly later, the Prizker heir that family doesn’t have, I turned it to of all people Carson, who gives a eulogy each night for Letterman and the boys clubs he spawned. And as happened before, there was the great Host unequaled, conquering up the Sainted ghost Gore Vidal, wit and tongue as acid reflux as ever, as he said in real time, that 1980, as it was for me, might have been the end of times, and even then, a hated President Crater, before halo, was as owned by General Electric, as Johnny bless his heart never ever was. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Requiem for a Scaramouch. 24 JULY 2025. WC:2920

 

 I Saw an image of that great detractor of the res publicans, whose minions have been flooding the zone for allegedly liberal television, hummmn, not a fustian deal I would make, as opposed to Satan, the bush families always pinches lechery, as they need what little they got. I know and say often that the foist man to speak of a Indulgence--sorry, a resistance was in fact Mycroft Bush brother Jebby who was ensconced deployed in the vaults and crypts of that network that now thinks it can do penance by being against the republicans with that copse old man up from fleet street and racings form, I gotta horse right here his name is Paul Revere, gee I recall when I sued that before the marbles were all shaken out of the holds, trashing those red meat eaters ways beneath white trash women hags like old Nicole, Niccolo is never caste, that they used while money changing in their war temples foyer. 

See, Hurling shoes at manga merda prince-lings...?, all in all not a bad idea, no matter what the assorted family gravediggers say at allegedly liberal television. What I learned the most this year another of my unmaking of the President essays was accepted, is that didn't GE ever wonder that their precipitous drop was because after a while, even Hillary witches couldn't in good conscious, or even piratical, Niccolo, they wouldn't be on the same said as republican trash as @George will and imperial liars like Bess Meyers, on, beat the Christmas rush buy your drones today!, taking the cable and the paychecks of radical colored girls and brunettes. always be casting on liberal television. How many men and sons did you send to a death sentence in Iraq, helmet headed overbite dear cvnt...? I almost forget the roman V in that word, back to the sources material, forgot a gal editor told me to use always the asterisks as the AI Monolith still can’t figure that out to censor it. NOW, HAVE I GOTTEN July IS THE MOST IMPERIAL MONTH AND 30 PAGES ACCEPTED ANYWHERE, NO, NIT AS A PLEBE, on this side of the imperial golden door ...No, but unlike @barackobama Barry the Fairy, ill take what I can get. Like in grand opera, the Stromboli always reckon after some, who was trashing their arts once over their sisters being never allowed into the opera house, or of course, the death threats that came so eagerly and willing from someone who will after all I think die on television before he becomes another nobody without a CBS show. 

https://www.vice.com/en/article/the-man-show-jimmy-kimmel-sexist/

CBS MISTAKE WAS IN allowing this sociopath with hands that once broken bra straps with Louis ck as wing man to play martyr, and of course, be seen on television as there is no life when one cant be in the klieg lights, but I pegged him, like Roget Ebert, I think it was, in the paper that night, as were many who were depressed that three badly made Omega house cartoons had somehow gotten in to late night, that night, as old Rodger compared this smiling goon, a republican them, maybe still like heckle Wallace, who many men died in gasoline fires while they laughed it up, as the end of television. No Paladin he, Ebert’s said, the mistake was cobs, now trashed by Ulysses like Letterman and whatever ever happened to his sex scandal, and who covered that up, …? The mistake was Cyclops, by allowing this smirking Northwestern mask of Janus to be on the air and play act his routine, as I was hoping for a amore Mad comics like Howdee Doodit, with a going to the injun of the test pattern, like what a most happen the night that democrats were upset that Juvenal here was pledging his enduing hatred over his sister not being allowed in the house of deputies he so slandered when his act was opposite in heels. 

Like, I would have listened to the ghost of William Payly in The Power and the glory, by Talese, demanding receipts for airtime from Tommy smothers who tried to say no no he was no liebarl see, always their ext strategy, or death trap, whatever, as I would have gotten him off the air so fast it would have made his you room smelling head spin, you know like they did for a girl whose lost her show without anyone even staging a ficking word. And I feel bad for the Cyclops actually, a station that made as many requiem and Marty’s as it did hillbillies, goodnight captain video wherever you are! Jackie never got an Emmy, you know. As I said long ago, Satire is what bleeds on Saturday night, and eventually, Petronius will get his pound of flesh, as that look on his face going from the new Yorker to the new York post did silently ay it all, one more Shel Silverstone than the other. 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VC24gV1o7XQ

Oh, I as do feel an empathy for the Cyclops, now a relic as in viragoes, rinsing his wound. Leave it to Steverino, hell drink every drop of blood at this barbarized Shoppe, lest any one recall what he’s been before, as once again, too late or too soon, my father was right and television wasn’t just a queer business, it is a serrated mean fag puppet show at that, and in only one term, imperial vizier went from the haunts of Charles Adams and Truman, In cold cash as my beloved Gore said, whose first Bewitched with no less than Elizabeth Montgomery, look it up, was on those now meanly stomped on sets, I’d have never left him in, as Visit to a small Planet, the Honeymooners, Requiem for a heavy weight and all the rest William S did to make sure that the jockey club knew who he was Rather far far away than the bishop Sheen and king Arthur shilling Chicken soup unto the end, as he always was. Then. in a moment worthy of the perpetual mobile, a local man made a flag out of the Post front page, that awful decrepit death mask at black rock, wondering in mid cusswords, the frozen moment of realization, cue sir Niccolo, now what…?, and he waved it madly and wildly, I saw as we came back from the now to be closed food king near here as ruins is everywhere, and no colored left screech as they had now that they are on the blood letters mechanical monsters dental plan. The one who has a perpetual flag reading Trump on his red brick porch., avid this wave victorious, to whom to what for what I was not sure, and I wont really be satisfied until this joke teller learns the difference between a mere comedy and a Commedia being shouted at him, as he awaits for the gossipers to be there in a dark evening, showing how long in summertime he must have been waiting in his always Temp’s office. 

14 September 2025. 
Having left this essay undone I knew a third hand would be found, or a third shoe dropped, as the bulls hitters and these rag tag armies of witches brewing covens that still devotedly hold on to Hillary, equally woman hubby had to instructs ion molesting, again, I w as correct and the comedy comes to lasting too long that it wont become a full out tragedy  but with the Jewish unalterably, sorry Busboy of the returned to CBS, telling us all what a republic layers as talks of Palestinian  genocide is picked up by Rabbi Bernie as he cut’s the fowl and has just read the dire auguring of polls too long dismissed as idiots always do.

As again I was prescient   in thinking the influence of the plebs would start to take over, a recent murder showed it might as well have been plebeian angers, as once hearing it happened, the senate bolted into action by making sure Rabbi Bernie, Mother super bank states loving Liz warren and the human praying mantis, initialed goddess AOC immediately padlocked events out of a fear they were far enough away from their plebian hordes they gush empathy for from their g4 fuselages. Still, though I think that these days of rage is like things are mere theater anyway, as even their Tolkien up beloved Shakespeare didn’t really get the full impact of hat happened in Rome on those tree days when at the drop pf a laurel Brutus went ,d spite his bullshit, of because of it from liberator to merely a true opportunist, having dined at a wrong tbale he was banished from, and  who ahd not been paid enough for his weding of the roman more than gremanic hedges, but then Shakespeare lobed an antihero, whereas Dnate knew who the villains always were. Yes the daffodils gave become bedbugs fly taps and they learn how to shoot straight, but then there are people who know how to shoot since kids, and again the senate always fearful entombed in marble and swaddled with silks, don’t ever really forget how this sort of palace crumbled before. 

But then again, and more petceinat than ever, Sallust isn’t my forth favorite books as I was almost disputed to see imperial foggy hanger on sissy boy George f Will give a Marc Antony like moment for the fallen man hgow dare you say as you feel and not expect a fag in the quad sunshine to wear a Latin mottled roman eagle on his sunken chest as he, yeah he, took a shit at you, and then waned on to crate a sonnet that was less like the kind invented by the Italian who dared call that holocaust, how own races  the dark age, as no Jews were hammed in the fall of Rome, although, when one thinks of it and the way that Hadrian ticked people about to Sicily, …somehow the dyeing art form since Steve Allen wrote the forwards to Mad compilations, late night died with Carson a long time ago, but its corpse, like Biden was not fully desecrated until Hillary showed up remaining her payment for not having left that bloated pig whose roman delusions seem so fart back and looms ago, demand she be gave a lesbian coven as a imperia, as I must say even a lesbian couldn’t have been as stupid as Biden whose picadors finally made sure his hooves were cut. Ah, filled with the same nostalgia  for the mire that has been there since Boethius, George ffing Will dared compare Charlie, kinda free kinda wow Charlie, kinda dead kinda pow Charlie, to his alleged mentor William F Buckley who again I have had joist schoolboy readings with, from his looking for talent for the National Review, a story idea I grafted into dear Lorelei, in my attempt to spec script her, to an email in which he called me Tony which, sorry, I;m not Tucker whose gags were laughed at, did bother me at the time., I  wonder did you tear up the article of principals, Joe Cotton, tell me about the rabbits…? Did somewhere east of Eden, and with the mice and men of thirty rock striding their banquets, did someone recall the man that Johnny Carson had on the air along with beloved father Gore and that Johnny never wasted his takes with PM S AND MPS AND SECRETARIES OF LABOR UNTIL Hodding, who also met as a kid, they were free enough to be funny. So, as was Boethius, true to a Romanism they don’t pity you on ABC FOR,  killed by a church he was stupid enough think cared about anything bit double billing as a sacrament. And, the Satanists and the black swaddled anarchist were met and not  amused by Bluto speaking of his lord and savior Jesus Christ well, he’s not the Innominato type, not at Disney, anyway. And the trumpet at the edge of the Tyber I have spoken of before alas to some poetic admiration, is in the mist of the Brandenburg concerto 2, as his brushes with Rachel Maddow and other Spacley sprockets ,mouth breathers  has allayed to left him an ennui. 

I have heard so much about the first amendment that I was sure that the Jews of television land were making another mafia cartoon, as they only speak of the first amendment when they are tiled into the corner of this less than noble school of Athens, more a falsie ridded and vulgarian and sanctimonious Rome as they all have been, as it did turn out without much of a knowledge pf engineering, Hitler’s pantheon which he imagined, would have fell of its own weight as much sa anything, and that a building three teems the size of the original pantheon in Rome, would be collided by the Germanic kings of old and in fact, would end up being a Ragnerock of cement, befitting the kind of Gods like Stan Lee could steal and rewrote, without a fear of looking brazen as Himmler thought hed be. But now, as a revise of the speech of Marc Antony, ah a fellow Italian genius, Dante, had them all still pegged, as a hypocrite will ways make his hypocrisy yet only virtue he seems to have. As unsure of what he really believes, someday when will believe his own horse shoot and parley and babble and bumble into a truth that is besr  left unsaid, as in fact did the rah rah senator who called Augustus the king the king when Augustus knew the Romans hate kings and he wanted no part of having to explain anything said by someone that insipid. 

 

i kid you not. 

 I didn’t tell Underdog and captain nice to become so full of a sanctimony and thus misplaced anger that i'd start a war with even the bowling ball network even Paddy couldn’t have cared less about anyway. Believe it or don’t, but I’d love to see our fat little porcine Bluto wop, so careful and clearer like a Sicilian consigliore, that being all out anti Trump was  a way to save his even before dwindling Cavette guest host spot, as he would be swayed enough to think that this bloat, this man this monster. this pig,  this poor mans poor dna, making chidden with his own dago blood weakness of benedicts, alluded to scene Cupola made sure all the good killer wops had blue eyes, like Claudius, like Captain Sejanus at mount purgatory, id love to see him gain a morsel  of vendetta  for the Collodi that  he never had read to him from  a garlic loving mom, not like whose mine, like me, has never really been that crazy about. It isn’t starting well as he thinks he can make a bigger check be bullied ,as a pig from a Man show could, and of course the hags of the afternoon quacks, haven’t said a word, as the rat is king. My mother again told me well when she said, never laugh or complain at an mans funeral, so lessee Doge Igor now give in for some twerp puss who only sued the first amendment so he and his wop compadre, we have a same father, wasn’t high on Rachel’s it parade over his making drunken girls bounce on trampolines.  So, Scrub his Dick Dick Go results all you overfed cowgirls without the blues want, all you want, but that frozen moment of realizations as Machiavelli called it,  it,when George will understood he was on the same side as someone who wagged his tongue and tourists ladies clits, well, that must have been a day he actually seemed to become whiter than usual and show a human emotion, or as close as he could ever come. And as for mentioning christ at the unmarried , unmorred fatsos who silence was deafening, i put the over under to the clever little man outlining his welcome, at he feast of Janus indeed. 

At least it isn’t death threats, as he dies without papers. And to show the business of being an imperial hypocrite, again like the senate bruising to righteous indignation as the usual suspects sneer and bitch in an anointed morass that old man Biden caused amid the Reagan-ite sleeping, there aren’t enough shovels to find any ponies here, the other station that stupidly has allowed the Colbert ghost to be on the air for no definable reason or rhyme, as once again we aren’t in this for poor health, and if you thought he wasn’t shown on Elsbeth before…I do wonder about this new found devotion to the first amendment when it isn’t someone who didn’t wear his liver bile on his sleeve, evasively when certain clowns were against health care laughed at Madam Pelosi all along when need be. See, right before the planned demic, the smirking queer in brooks brothers liberalism, did an act brought with him from the conservative time when he  was hurling death threats at coeds, and he did give a new Yorker for Tennessee eulogy over the nation state when his sister lost her gambit to be his rabbit ears at the assembly of queens, and could then cast precious about what you believe, I recalled in this sanctimony when he was cone on television anointed what money cribbers all the big pharma pigs and pushers there in at Merck were truly about. He was as I recalled in a piece  about the Saturnalia fog,  in which I could sense the CBS adored Effrem Zimbalist’s of a once hated and suspicion FBI, was making its last vaunted attempt to make is all Sicilians after all, that Colbert did make a point about the pharma circus and its ability to be almost satanic in its eighteenth century prairie lack of enlightenment. And I recall how that was dropped once as I say the wire transfer was thwarted to be not cleared. And to show how devoted we all are, Lorelei and her daughter on a station owned by CBS. They will go to two hours every midnight at that very hour to show again, we never married or liked Steverino to begin with. Like a mobster said, Deniro didn’t play Iago,  don’t make any flashy purchases. 

So, do television brains dream of television TED BESSELL’S…? 1 August 2025.

As is tradition of some sort here, a few days before my Leonid birthday, my brother left before I got up, but on the stationary bike which I use to get at last four miles a day done on lest I let the strange decay that comes with the shadow lords of the moats derail me, he left a powder blue t shirt as an earliest birthday gift. On a echoingly FASCISTIC triangle on  the shirt was a more fantastic than not symbol,-- I remember when it meant “hope”, good gwad, but was now a return to the Romans sashes like of a Hercules that had his roman boots uncolored by the Chislers at National, although anyway there is a alas a Jew joke in there somewhere. I only liked the shirt and kept it as a nice article because of its appearance being an echo of the great Alex Ross, the painterly comics that no one else seems able or willing to do. 

I went on Interest, a new account I had to make as the email I used was a brother's unused account and I couldn't access it to get the new or another password. As an admirer of Varsca and Sorayama, since there were his paintings of erotica out of Guccione's more adult Penthouse, am and their feminine arts always hated by the coven that seems to want to out do the blood gulping of various chicken hawks of prey, I found a cascade of strangely uninspiring and rather flat arts done by AI, in which I can tell, a s opposed to some, eagerly when Hal the supercomputer dares think he is the English hated Raphael. 

So, I found myself liking as many drawings as I have ever done, usually sketches and pretty girls, even horses and Conan’s that I knew were drawn by a human hand, as the duding old plait carts that old man Sanders dear act like he is not their puppet, remember it isn’t money laundering if you take wedding envelope only made out to 27 dollars at a time, sheeesh!, though no one seems to want it, proving again as Steven Colbert lives in the detritus of a life in the wings, perhaps this alas finally how Michelangelo does strike back. A hunt for some reasons the drawings are festooned with computer graphics based on the geometry of art, literally, with circle spheres and squares, but not the kind that John Bushema tittered us all us as boys 

I saw on an Instagram page, which seems hijacked by a Superman making it to 300 mil eighty cents at a time, and Colbert, so, who ever thought they be connected ever or that I dislike one as much as the other, that smirking little pimple man Colbert is daring CBS to destroy him, as it acceptable to him, sinks in and posing fringe TV show can be seen by some as a grief over a death, which he laughed his way through you and your wop grandmother sure enough as did Gory television. He is daring the power and glory CBS, don’t tell me like his hero Biden the Power and Glory wasn't read by him either, as he lives out his Virgilian destiny by becoming a cartoon image. Worthy of the digital that was mere construction papers as mine still is. Not the day I made a billion, no fooling, I'd open a vein to be closer to Petronius than any billionaire could ever be, as Trey must be one of the good ones. But then, as for Colbert DARING AND GOADING CBS, so did Tommy Smothers, Bishop Sheen, Daniel Schoor, Arthur Godfrey, DESILU, AND EVEN CAPTAIN KANGAROO, ALL OF WHOM FOUND OUT WHERE THE CYCLOPS MAKES HIS NESTS. Lets just say I wasn't as upset by this cancellation, something you fat women and sissy boys were fine with for the mere nobodies, How Gibbon, as I was as a kid when A Bigger Check offed Police squad!  

3 AUGUST 2025

Since I was a boy and saw Oliver Wendell Douglas. THE HEARTS OF ALL ONE SANE MEN EVER ON THE CYCLOPS, AS IT DEVOLVES NOW I AM TO UNPAID FOR I DID NOT HAVE TO APPROVE OF THIS MESSAGE POLITICAL CRAP, had the same birthday as a pug kept as if a son in that ultimate of CBS wayward sets of the big round up, I am always aware when my birthday falls on the same time frame as one from television, as I sense it like when a joke as made about Biden and NBC godfather Burl, in the cold day that course was paraded into power. Happy Birthday oh cheapskate on mine, the card to the eager senator from the farm lands before he called became separator said, as he was determined that it was indeed the pg on August 2 1971 when I turned 6 and saw it on our old zenith television, beefier as I said the glass of the Stiegel act was broken part and in case of emergency., like pausing taxes or not having a wedding fest of and between an oligerarch,  if you don’t play aged hippie and aren't the son of Alan Brady once again, and a stripper was done ironically enough no one figured in an armory where the Vain Borgia’s doges kept their knives. 

So this week, in my own birthday week, CBS phished in the middle sea of new Sicily again, as the day after my birthday day, the first work day, it seems that Ralph and Ed were reaping for the party that was never thrown as they, like Neil Simon and Bilko, it was for the top[ banana that that attempt at musical fare was even tried, and was going nowhere until ad libbing the heart mad magazine kiddie show host emeritus, Phil Silvers was sand and calculating and said with a shyster's con artist Sedulous flee it’s a comedy TONIGHT! AND Sondheim, our musical genius went to work with the parables of all theater and the xylophones and slide whistles and bassoons of italic pentameter, at its best. So, this money after my birthday, as Ralph and Ed once again, so good and artless at comedy to call them tropes is a misnomer if not an issue, and how once again poor Alice hopes for an American dream was dashed by his blowhard sensibilities as baby I just go crazy thinking another man is after ya, and I’m a moax, and she still gives him a gift to unlike Charlie Brown, he can't lose all the time, no one does, and to make one is literary cruelty that only come from we now know preferred Spark, and baby, You’re the greatest. It is not for nothing that despite the marooning of archetypes everywhere that a mad magazine never even tried to lampoon the honeymooners until they reached a Sam Viviano nadir and Mort Drucker was retired. 

Also, my television Beatrice,  AS I HAVE CALLED HER, BEAUTIFUL MISS FANSERVACE  PUT IN NEGLIGEES AS OFTEN AS A BUNNY, BUT STILL FEISTY AND SPUNKY ENOUGH TO PULL IT OFF IT WAS ALSO LORELEI  Gilmore’s birthday , and we have always been 

almost exact peers in age. When she did, it must have been something in those schoolhouse rock days, had a birthday week as I announced I did and her daughter complied as even then one could see one poisoned tree on that hill, and that what made the show truly great, the mother daughter love, well, in mother hating Jewish television, even the gumbas now hate their mothers, but do let women abort their sons in that Sicilian thing, so their glossary has never been one that I have ever even tried to rosette stone my way through. Her daughter made her a giant Pizza in this, a crane was needed, and of course, the bloated floor lobbing chef fat young Etta candy to Lauren wonder woman charms, sent her husband, the fruit man football, to be angry that the Junior daughter dared go to the Italian cop from Homicide life of the street, which I hear Lorelei is doing so wall, and the DESILU desert is so over done lately that that show itself, maybe the best cop show since Barney Miller, and I’m not kidding, will be gotten back on television too. Not an awful idea, as it was a John Lenard who said, so good unlike some, birds of a wire that the TV hacks like thinking is criminality somewhere were always away from them, Homicide was as good as a show, it didn’t need the accolades that somehow comedies  about gangsters seems to revel in. 

As the weekend of my birthday came to an end, it was all as I admit a big one that has not had the effect upon me that has had in others, I am not buying Testcrosses to cage some sweet or screen bird of youth that was never my speed anyway, as I still surf the you  tubes for videos of Donnie Iris and Tracy Pullman, as I am forever when not in the stay of Patty Fairemelli, still devoted to the solid gold dancer Brunette named Debbi who ALL in Hillary land is the only kind of girls that they can actually get torn off television anyway. You know, the kind that men like Husband Bill do. 

So, I was watching an earliest Colombo with the great voiced actor who played Wyatt Earp , it is before even I, and that was going into another one starring to me as a boy perfect womanish siren sexual even to me than disciple of Venus, the one Italian goddess of the vineyards at to and which poppa Copula doth trace to lest he, like others who placated death as they did be recalled for their own threats made in Verdian form, Lee Grant as a perfect Irene Adler THAN HE’D NEVER BE SEEN AGAIN. But, he would get worse as unexpected as the spear carriers dare bitch and the Jews who have been casting Hercules to roman dismay of buffo box office, it always depends when about their glossary being cut in halves by woke hags who overeat between political bromides shouted at the chicken delight, they you see are never ever insurants and their pasta factory is the only army that matters. Ah but the Italians have always been ungovernable, if not unelectable, as the Bush family got what it deserved when they made sure Marius knew being against that mean little family that has always carried its smell of formaldehyde spades for the grave robbers they always was, a wayward hillbilly, Metro with a book, came along to put them in the belfry,  where George will now have to pretend that he didn't call every democrat a commie pinko once, especially Mario, as it always when wasn't it, played in Peoria. As for the actors who bitch that thai apple of Hollywood  grief still has a paper bag lest as it always had, well, an Italian didn't play Colombo, not Mark Antony, ever, and Superduperman was out of the question, so I’m not sure on the graves of all those Italian grandmothers left as plum ;eaves covered corpses by the adjunct Mario Jr, I  would not be caught anyway dancing there with trash like Colbert of the billionaires who showed now, as opposed to when it was the time of Jerry and Joe. A sibylline books of action not awfully consulted as hear the great superman does as its take is almost watched six dollars at a time, for drag queens, gang bangers or over fed newspaper princes who , alas Kamillia knew in casting, didn't play well with that many chins. 

My brother came in, and turned it early at the beginning of a film that was scored by the great Elmer BERNSTEIN, AS IS AW AT THE TURN OF THE DIAL, BUT THEN LOOKED MORE CLOSELY AND SAW Pinto and Kent Dorfman as they sauntered and galumphed towards the egregious and a wildly square Omega house, where who knew Hillary Clinton having found her Bluto long ago, always dreamed of being rushed. Animal House, is on, he said, and toppled me to leave it there, Its your birthday, he said, So watch your hero John Belushi, and that way tell Hillary and her duke minions to go screw themselves, as for a  while there, the hags who 

did vote for that overwrought cvnt and the screeching mimis who again are never given a roman army treason trial, until it may be too late, did make a point of asking Jews like Harold Remis to apologize as almost all of Hollywood made to, but as my brother so wisely and smart assedly said with his Jesuit training, They never give the check back, as the road to ASSISI, is always closed for repairs. The Democrats today have been found to be at the lowest point they have ever been as I knew a while back that Dukakis and Cuomo had dignity and when you walk with a fool like Biden, well, that last step is a dilly, Mack. OR buddy, or pal, or whatever Carney Canarsee lingo the traveling tent freak show man has left to say before the whole thing is struck and the train milk or not, doesn't suit here anymore. Malarkey for all, and charity towards none, at this price.  

I watched the whole thing as it made me recall in fact, like that day I found my brothers Mad paperback, at a house like so much else I never was grateful for as didn't have as much money as the Mob princesses and the insurance salesman sons that I  came to hate, it did have an effect upon me, as watching the Gilmore Girls lately has , as it does with the divine Miss L, the only reason I watch that show as she a consummate brunette.  The rest of the cast rather stinks, and I  cant stand them, still, like Marlon and Mark Antony when I  saw it, she is a true actress of that sort, all in internal, as to write out what she can do with a pretty face contorted by shame and regret needs a Dante or at least a Sondheim to fully annunciate. 

4 AUGUST 2025. 

A slimy smarmy little man, on the one vaunted Cyclops, nothing is what it used to be, and who smirked and greasily smiled his knifey smile though the euphonizing of the Merv slot, ppppppphhhhh, he's political, which way yet depends on the size of his check. HE WAS FIGURED BY CBS,  WITH NO LESS THAN THE MAN WHOSE SQUATTER HE WAS, THERE WAS NO BATHROOM THAT Letterman ever sued that our midnight Cassius with a water bottle ever didn’t think not to assault once, ah the eye is jaundiced, and all he thought 

was golden in that shower, and less of a golden age,  but has been fired by that self same Cyclops, but with a strangest television of caveats, that he'd be allowed to , like Caiaphas, spit upwards from the bowels of black rock at the good head of Plautus, powerful and glorious before he also was born, and they were covering the res publica  with cops widows and hillbilly laughter as stolen from Al Capp. Instead of telling him to leave the precipices of Polyphonies island forth withers say others have, especially a woman who as joking paled after his own racist show, she is off the air forthwith you see, in the way that liberals and their grandparents so set up the fruited plane, which explains why Gore anti eulogist Will and Rosie O’Donnell, despite enemy of my enemy schoolgirl symbiosis, thoughts, neither ever seemed to take his bequeathed set that he again squatted on. As he had through life playing eleven on Law And Order a man with no face, as my mother called the indigenous fraudulent. I guess being made a character in dc comics, like Bizarro or Solomon Grundy was too much to take for Signora Fortuna, and as he demands a kind of purposeful applause. So now, the con man has always believed in his own lie, a Machiavellian’s death years ago, lest we all recall the death threats he sent out to co eds, if not the almost glee he held fore for the illnesses of princesses, ah but the all conspiring eye made sure he apologized for that, or the one eye browed woken brunettes pf cnn, not a pretty one among them lest we deserted Hillary's satanic mass, again pop and your grandfathers were not on good terms, as he does not yet realize that indeed no one is retiring for him without any applied signs, as 20 people showed up in the streets to decry that the Democrats would have to actually buy time on THE CYCLOPS,  an ending that I knew of thanks you Faun, but this immoderate slob was too busy playing Golden Boy to ever even let close to his brains as he made whistles past the mausoleums of the elderly law givers. 

There is no dignity in being sued as a placeholder, as he unravels by the moment becoming more vicious and angry by the demanded ends of the aftermath  day, and or night, which is why this ending suits him to as they say a T. Just like a cross hung near Northwestern bathrooms. But again, not pretending to be devoted as all Hillary diets are, and were and have to be, lest anyone recall what mourning Joes and Chaney daughters with jellyfish eyes and Bess Myerson who now sell drones and they sold war to a now replete with war fatigue Spartans that the chicken hawks never empathy form as they certainly never went, he had seen why it was that old Roman Bill made sure that Signora Fortuna the goddess that a lesbian gal downstairs editor at the kind of racial newspaper that would hate Colbert openly and accepted any diatribes against him eagerly, and even took my pin ups of brunettes, as opposed to queer boys at two bit the  New Y*rkers, goodbye miss Kennedy to all of that, as OPPOSED to those prissy sorts, suddenly the idea that my maidens of italic heritage somehow had ‘unimaginable’ tits was rendered mute by me when I alerted them to the internet pictures of Wendy Fiore, the kind of Italian gal that was seen once and no longer was. the flyway hair bad skinned overbite glacises wearing hags think once again they control the lands, this truth though, did so anger Goldwater and his charges once, believe it or not, until as usual, the perverts rape the wrong boy, or mostly a wrong girl, and they are beaten to a pulp in the left marble, crumbling, vistas of the already tiring of the curia town. 

The best part of his long slog and staycations of the crows like ending, is indeed I must admit I was overly romantic again, has less to do with Paddy and his own Brooklyn lyrical qualities of the speech of all the dagos and Orangemen , that is allowed, by the way, and less like the Marty we all rooted for, no Borgnine he, and that the first Italian American to win your worthless now Oscar was Ernie as Marty is something the acrimonious can't beat with a stick, is that again, I saw it all coming., While he was busily being a vizier on Tonight, Johnny's jokes about never being conveyed to the white house like Freddy Decrodeva  was a mark of honor to him, that like Jackie, who didn't have an Emmy handed to him by giving always backpedaling always handing off replay coloreds like Jimmie crack Corm and nobody cares, and he just thought himself such the latest Murrow’s boy, which didn’t go well I had heard from some at the none toy department of CBS News, there was a moment that told me all I needed to see about where this was heading. 

On a comical diatribe I saw only one time, Steve as pilgrim in the comedy, no commedia here, he journeys from, the hell of mere back cable and the campus Stewart always wanting to get even with somebody, to know the snowy peaks of Mount Purgatory, as this happened in Janis days, the month of Patty FIERILY A SCHOOLBOYS BEATRICE AS I RECALL AS THE 60 word serpentine sentences of Niccole are like a coven of snakes as seen in movies that demand the middle east worse than even they do Italians, like how saturnalia was somehow filled with belly dancing girls. There, he meets of all people, Lucius Sejanus, on the white cliffs where postmarked, abandoned signs read A GULF AND WESTERN COMPANY, and who thought that they'd understand Hollywood more than say those who make their money off of blowing Palestinians to smithereens in a death cult of land swindles. And there, our Virgil-SEJANUS, IM SIRE THAT Patty Patty buke buke  played both, there, the sad third act of all hatcher men came clear, and I knew he was no roman this north-western monsignor, I was warned of that toilet as early as 1972, and now bald, but not then , though did read Sejanus  was bald, the refugee from Sertorius ,whose pages are gone, rendering Robert Graves mute, the warning was there for all to see, as there is a dignity is being an imperial victim, Steverino that no childish posing in the electric CGI marble land remade snow, not even Green acres Christmas soap flakes, can ever get. 

5 AUGUST 2025. 

The funniest part of Matt and Trey at south park deciding now of all times, to jump on the showboat as it is sickening and go all out anti Trump, as if I care, as Vito Stillino said shocking to Cope, who'd come around later on, I am no evangelist. I wasn’t anything in their now digitized cardboard and construction paper curtains, which, to me, using paper is the least that you can doll, but then cone someone makes their first Billion, hell, the Koch brothers don't seem so wrong about things, as even the attaches of the men who wrote their own, and how just fed Plautus crowd despite their need to be seen as swells, which Petronius knew never works out. The funniest part no, wasn't that they waited until winter of Pompey to put on their prediction of golden age B’way Picnic, amid the stone left behind, this way to Chappaqua, but that in fact, not even a long weekend later, Paramount itself had to make up the money they had laid out for this, Satire isn’t pretty, and that a good 15 percent of its work force, them being insufferable liberals none of the triumvirate of CEO’s was touched, you can't tell the oligarchs without a score card, and that is the kind of deserved moment when the poor plebs find out the ham sandwiches they ate wasn’t properly trussed and that indeed, you may have just eaten shit. Well, the nouveau riche can't get good help these days, and sometimes the joke is unintended, there is alas a trope for that, see Colbert and the one eye browed brunette from CNN when even that pompous crowd laughed, as continuing to do the bidding of their paymasters, although CBS was never a war company, though  who isn’t in Sparta…?. They , as old as I am, made a fantasy atoll joke about Trump, which chain we have reached somehow the Virgilian aspect of this melees, as when anyone dares say Epstein, like dido speaking of her Vendetta unmade yet, of course  meaning Hannibal, all anyone thinks of, especially his allies, is Clinton, which is why again, that fat pig always made sure that he knew whose tie he was wearing whether you married as if a living sit com, domesticated apparatchiks, liked it or not. 

How did I know that when I saw Lucius Sejanus as space cadet at CNS polyp emus uplands in the snows of mount purgatory, when simpleton bitchy cvnt Colbert meets the original hatchet man, how did I know what this augured…? Well, in 2020 in a book called THE AMERICAN DECAHEDRON, my most published piece counting cartoons, what else…?.  That was the elegy for Italo that I had been trying to make since the truly horrid to me Gigi Marquez stole the italic ideals of magic realism and did in fact as ma said made it Spanish by adding too much vinegar as loved by barbarians. I had written a similar scone when I knew then that he was finished even then, and that Moray’s stop watch clicked and ticked for him. In the shady groves in which I had gloomy Lucifer Bilbo spent his meaningless powerless days resenting and resented, despised and dispraising, I had the quarrelsome kweer--we are at the mercy of Hillary’s shitty euphemisms --Colbert the nag with no face as Ma said of the bag men of the men of the people, deserted as cowards since Rome, and worse now than ever as have Bush family accelerates to war set fires, wrens from them what and what not to say,

I had the be speckled  Steverino, a neo Herbert Anderson as placed upon here somewhere, as the trash at CNS, the poor soils Letterman, and how!, as he met with Lucius Sejanus, no fooling even then, a pox on all your inheritors as I made a point at how iota as that Sejanus; ashes from the annals are missing for some reason, somewhere between arson and censorship, something happens that day betwixt and between he and Tiberius, who knows what, but being Romans and Italians, a woman was surely involved, which when Patrick Stewart is Evolved, though have liked him since I As ten and watched the trashy drama of ax wielding Lucius, like fellow Englishman Elsa confronting Lucy and Vivo, HATCHET!, THIS TIME not be completed, I was sure that is never when they anglicize Romans  isn’t the first thing that anyone thinks of. But all it was this if the threads were ever placed next to each other. 

6 AUGUST 2025.

One of the gifts that my brother bought me on or around my birthday that,  though a big one, didn't seem to have the response that one thinks it would have, but then I have always been somewhat immune to the vicissitudes of man's life as shown in the puppet shows of culture and television. I think of how that was how my father put it all down then when I was a boy, and how he knew that didn't give Italians much of a break, seeing them as one half step above negroes that they boarded in columns all the plans in Rome, but with a viciousness that speed into the tuber by way of the Jewish narcissism that is endemic to many people saying they are chosen by an invisible, unavailable godling, a rabbinical Odin in the thundering skies who is amazingly less overt and obtuse to say national socialists than he was to the state that had to be destroyed over its love of bosomy, giving us even the word. I think of my pop, as if anything I  am sadder for others like he and ma and a thousand Italian you've never heard of, like Basile and Guido the artists than id ever be for myself, as I  have no real youthfulness to recapture as never had much of an eye for Testcrosses in the first place. My father did warn me that television was indeed a puppet show, and not the romanticized tower middle summer nights plays within a play as I  saw it then , as I  have desired through the sad ends of Colbert that thai was never a Paddy Chayefsky nightmare as much as it was a Budd Shy Bergh wet dream, as the shooting battle off on in  the emerald city as a back drop of less a new Rome and more a merely recalled Messina. And my brother , giving me these gifts to note the day, he went to a Michel’s  I think, and bought me a giant 60 page Strathmore quality notebook of drawing papers. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1EgoVgUPJHU

When he came back after having gone to a local donut Shoppe where the Italians women there communicate with him about how Trump has lost his mind to get a prose he now they are sure he wants as a bauble as places his heel into the house tap dancers, who suddenly they cry for criminals which didn't much happen when they were signing off on every crime bill fat bloated rapists and lesbians with delusions of grandeur could cobble together, white woman pig and spooks by the door, as Russia schemes seems to be falling apart and darn it Bill Clintons name seems now here, escapeless of course as wayward and Brutal in the truest scene senator jacks wish to demand subpoenas over the Epstein fantasy island, was Bill under oath again, as if that means a damn, and with or without his wife amid the cheerleaders, a guest star on Love Boat with Charo and Bill Richardson as special appearances. Back where he once played the voice of spring. Once again as I was with fellow fake Roman lover Lucas who allied the rat squads to Romanticize up his flash Gordon epic into whatever biblical shit it is now, ad everyone likes immigrants now,  as long as the Jews of television didn't have to live too close to them at Capri again, or Martha's vineyard, as they somehow are pilloried for making that still possibly polluted beach head at Love carnival that someone figured out to make it a placed where over fed women and less than swanny river wives live as a second home when not getting into the city quickly, and then out. 

Then, after having voted for the wayward and availing  communist who makes them feel so good about themselves between the achita. I was there, in the room with the large bay windows, and was talking apart the Stratford TABULA RASA IN THE PERFECT SCENES, as I  was trying to depose or unravel its rather brassier and harder to unravel wire binding than I had done with some. What the hell are you doing? He asked me over the table, I am, I said, Unwinding the wire to allow the pages to come loose and be able to be used one at a time without ruining the page underneath, I said with Editorial pride. Wait …he said, taking a sheet and tearing it out to me gasping, EACH PAGE, HE SAID, Comes with a PERFORATED EDGE. Hey, idiot HE SAID, AS THOUGH THE PRIESTS TOLD HIM I WAS QUITE SMART TO THEM, HE IS ALWAYS SHOCKED AT HOW EASILY I CAN AND DO FALL FOR THINGS HE FINDS USELESS AND MEANINGLESS. Look, he said, you can tear the top off each page and make it a single sheet. He shook his head, always again scraper than I, You don't have to, he said, bother with unraveling the whole top…he left thai at this, and walked away shaking his head, unsure of what I  was doing, or worse than they, why at all I  was doing it. He waved it all off knowing I was to bend the pages and either cut with an exacto knife or just my thing pressed against the rather nice paper, and cut those sheets in half to get 60 leaves, and he walked away, sure he wasn't going to bother with an explanation of why I  was doing this not particularly  easy. 

Near to the end of my birthday week, an idea I  thought I  had come up with before re saw and recalled that Lorelei had a similar set up before the sad winds of WB tragedy would attack the Gilmore girls and demand of it that she, that television enterprise be sexual fodder for Mistress Sponge worthy, whom obviously, was cast off from Seinfeld, and that less than zero universe that I  much didn't like. I had an inkling despite the fact it was very hot in the preside days to own Leonine reexaminations of life and the perpetual sonic youth of a summertime birthday, speaking of a midsummer-night's dream, stolen from Ovid as much as anything, I felt a certain chill just over the horizon as though it was tills light until past 8 [ A cerulean dusk languish birthday ennui couldn't be helped by a certain home shopping channel already selling the homes and the fairy elves of medieval Christmas. I thought of the tragic awful New York Times as they aid the dared to me Charles Dickens created Christmas with that somber awful look of his in which the miser, like the pedestrian hatred man who came into  from the Damascus road, one must be to an Anglican heart, unlike Manzoni, one must be in a Costello already and this was based on a Tory like Senator who kept the candle wax under lock and key and who was the antithesis of all things in Grasshopper land Italy with that ant marching collective of the English bloody gates. I thought of how soon enough it would seem a cold wind and a frigid air would descend, as with the week coming to a close, in fact, the politics of resentment and spite that Hillary has used since my mother knew she had probably killed some Sabine preciseness out of the way as Livia did to Octavian, it appeared that the riots that they have fomented in New Amsterdam went awray, Mister Marie, and that the Angel Martin that I  didn't tell you or Boss Hogg to think was  a perfect vessel for upwards mobility had to run like hell up a Long Island leeway which serves them all right as the city became a Scorsese movie long long ago, and he had to get out and away from the rabble that all elites think all plebs really are and have been since the opening night of Coriolanus. }

But again the end of the week, the best part of the south park joining in on the fun against Trump was a day late and billion short, was that after they had shown what good acceptable to the coven and the unending witch havens that is the dying embers of Hillary's caldron pot fire, that despite being graced as being that most middlebrow of ideas of the times, or up to date, the punch line came within hours of their cardboard satire. Within the days after their refund relevance, as they had not had ratings it was said with is good cine indeed Clinton's Satyr icon, ah always the buckaroo slingshot effects when Hillary is at work as the last living vestige of the Mattina on America, well, despite their new found resonance for echo chambers, Paramount the parapet company since Felix Unger, had to lay off a good 20 percent of their wage slaves, showing again in the kingdom of the rich and well heeled, roman graffiti is the only scrawled sin one actually commit, as the people who actually have to work at Mount Purgatory had to go and somehow to pay the three politically minded dimwits and have three, count them, Three CEOS, as a tributary of old men who make the faces acceptable to the trash who think thieves elites, cost cutting is less pretty, it seems than comedy. Or Commedia, as the case may be. 

I spent my birthday week watching the high point of the television Beatrice Lauren and her obvious and irritating daughter as I  found when watching the Gilmore Girls , the blue eyed black haired brunette mother is the onlyiest reason to watch the show at all, and all the other quirky burgers of the fictional town of white enough to be communist Connecticut makes me sick. I saw the famous show where she realizes her white girls troubles may have been all of her own dodging as the planets she thought were so much an anchor to her dreams of American freeness maybe wasn't that big a price to pay as I  thought looking back at it, as she started out as  maid with a kid, I , like when see similar sanctimony out coming from Senator Warren and she of the glaring teeth my mother told me to always be on the lookout against when dealing with a  woman, I'm not your husband, she would say to any woman who growled at the perpetual camera like Hillary, noting that they whenever found that poisonous yell of a wayward Jane when dealing with Tarzan who they couldn't keep at the hut. I thought of the poor windswept, black haired, Navaho who didn't get a scholarship, not that I  ever took it, and look back in anger at it all, as they blind cvnt thought just by grandpas, to be here no matter what. By now I was tired, and not just from the birthday week, as I didn't feel the way I was supposed to, as if I ever have. 

So, it might have been watching the show and its middlebrow womanish love of Yale, that made me reconsider all, but late in the night early in the morning, when I  have these dreams that even fraud couldn't much figure out, so what chance to I have…, I  had a strange visitation in my dream state as sometimes do. In a oppressive , and threadbare catholic academy of sorts, the kind I  was hilted out of as I  wasn't willing to always do the work I  was asked, as always thought what’s your angle as can pick up the love they have or ridicule and why and to whom it is sent as I said to some two bit poetry compilation that doesn't even have the decency of the cheap papers of the earlier rags that always was the cold police gazette and who would on cue from the Cyclops King not allow Answered prayers in its vaunted pages between the ads for condos and Adirondack getaways so big among the communist of the empire state. I walked into an office, of sorts, with all the books that white women and Hillary delicates don't even know to burn. 

And there behind  ask was the provost headmaster of this school at which it seemed again I  was a Bluto out of water. Behind the desk was Ted Bessel , the best boyfriend in television history. But he wasn't the crew cutter Italian marine of Gomer days which he was cast in as so Persky Denoff could keep him under construct as making an Italian Lebanese girl a symbol of miss independence took the Danny Thomas television machine more trouble than he would have thought.

But he was not so much Donald Hollinger, the brother Theodore before my eve, but was more like the great comedies actor who with a halo of seventies hair of a color my mother would call Chestnut, and older, like he was in the NBC  show where he has to sadly play second fiddle to a trained monkey. Anthony, Young man, he said, so I wasn't sure when exactly this would be happening, as for a first time , and paste when I  should have, I  am certainly no longer young. A small but color television played the match game, the real one with the wife of Oscar MADISON, WHO SAID, FAMILY, MISTER Colbert, IT'S BETTER TO BE ON television THAN TO HAVE TO WATCH IT. I  was abet lost, and saw the people outside at the collection of stone nave; less which made it look like a certain senate we know that they had which the Germans must have smashed first as they dear play act that they have ever been civilized, glorifying to the senators who thought that Tacitus was a senatorial jackass and who weren't shocked when the great liberal , showing the way, decided that a police state in Liguria Italy to put down and Italian uprising was never to be much spoken of, much less put in a movie that a Pollock Jew would eventually see as so full of malapropos and mistakes that they'd have to devoice and distance himself from his own work. 

And atop this acne of saving the republic violence, as Italian as their flavored ice cream, there was old sweet Bill, half Prospero and half jersey boy, as his minions laughed with a Roman glee at this bloodletting scene, as thug 1 took the sissy boy comedian satirist and did take if not a Roman bath, better than that, an Etruscan shower as he kicked him into the sepia colored stone base. Bilbo was delighted as than as I  never was or would be, I was just a pensive onlooker, a pilgrim in hell, as the Caesar took on his own triumvirate trinity of civility and took his own vengeance as his, thank you, Away, fur nothing. And with joyfulness no even again fly girl of his Kamala could ever allow it to be for overfed white women, the Marius in the street, he took off as if Jerry Lewis in the palazzo, and strayed to sing my boyhood anthems, the only Pittsburgher rocker worth a damn, Donnie Iris , Allegheny Cricket, That's the way the love ought to be, and it was  a refreshing detour from watching the dreary Rory for some reason, I’m still unclear , she went to Bush I, alma mater of illiterate finger painting crime war sissy’s, and the bloated Wilhelm, somehow was taking glee in all of thai in away I finally figured out as father Ted was saying something anoint the admiration of wayward jurists, but he told me, as I  saw the ending of their greats alum, beware and avoid Northwestern and its smell of liquid soap that never makes hands come clean in the halls devoted to medieval boys rooms. Whenever I am around you, I slightly sang along, as his minions all looking like Holly Marie combs, a beast left by that hag somewhere on the interstates, they would all start paying now, it was surely shown, for every fat joke ever made at his, yes his expense, and yellow reps can back quite a perfect nose for the rhinos that he , well, has always hated, as he took on the war machine with cowardice as a virtue but still, no Family accolade was he, no meathead was our American president, on the streets of this newest San Francisco, a line from imperial victim Mario, whose compassion wasn't so calibrated or with grease paints, and political drag, without the noise makers of being on the outs for bribery in highest criminality once, and now the coat of doing business,  that bothered both Brinkley and young miss sociopath Hillary, whose stigmata’s are always for others until the very end. 

The reddish haired, older man,  priest, Brother Theodore, stood then, so, why did I  have this dream of this man  at this time, showing his executioner's songs  colored suit and the paunchiness that Donald Hollinger like we all have to, had to now pluck on. He handed me back a few typewriter papers on which I had written one of the essays that had so impressed his sort about me. Anthony, he said, in this strange visual, in the old,  cold, catholic school which definitely hatred of it and its founder the Jewish gods Hercules, I  still had a level of admiration among the brethren, even then, for whenever this all was, Here is your essay about Petronius, he said, perhaps I  thought watching this, that  I had mentioned the dreaded word to them satire once too often, but I still think we may be heading towards someone having to clear up the paramount toilets when all I  said and done. 

That essay went all the way to Chicago and the headquarters, the Central Office; he smiled as he spoke, Of the society of Jesus. That recall was actually true and I was alerted to no less than that as a kid when I was just too tired already to fulfill my American dream bingo cards. I had a feeling that there were evil people at work, and Biden was treated and mistreated just the way I had assured, scouring some to spit elsewhere with their synonymous problem of power and placement. He asked me if I wanted to go to the vaunted Georgetown, holy cross, Boston university, even Yale. Where ,my father had a letter then on thor’s rock letters, inst it blue stationary telling is in coarse new Sicily Scorsese land somehow we were of the same blood line as General Julius Agricola, not that that would matter much anyway, as we were reminiscent of a decline long ago. I thought, even the derided Bushies and now Rory appreciating for reason I  am still unclear, as if she going to Yale meant she could stay at home, why did she leave her mother in the letch so early in the show, as again television Beatrice Lauren it seems did postpone her eventual hooking up with spongy-worthy diner Phil as long as she could for one ethic boy after the next, all do to her personal animus now I  read that she had, as that That Girl member had a moment  of pure television magic as Marlo and Donald there had in the previously mentioned show about help wanted and how she became his secretary.he GOT UP AND ALL I COULD RECALL AS HOW RIGHT MY FATHER AS ALL ALONG, HE TOLD ME, NOT KNOWING OR CARING WHO Bill Watterson was, he told me go to the paper any papers and get your cartoons, a true italic arts form in anywhere I could. Although I did seem he did like to read the awing days of the Sunday comics, he seemed to read and somewhat like Calvin and Hobbs when it as in the Pittsburgh press, as I had bought him often without saying so, copies of Lone Ranger, The phantom, whom he somehow loved, and Capt Marvel who as the nobly superman thus spoke Ubermench German hero that eh could at all take as a perversion f Hercules. I was amassed in this late night early morning darkness at the rectory of my gone youthfulness that I  as indeed now alone, only a brother seemed to be there for me, as sister was carted along as much as I could, but it as my father who warmed me of the coming Rory lands of womanish hatred lives, and how easily it as for them to dismiss and demean italic me, he warned, as the more I watch Dick Van Duke with a enjoying of its CBS glory days monochrome delusions, but do they give it to MTM as Laura, in ayes they never seemed to do to blond waives, and the upset depots I bring that up to make pretend that they don’t understand. He told me to avoid the Filiations and Universal sand yes Mount Purgatories  of the world, the priest  did like and admire me, and in amerce as I didn’t pay attention, in a land where affirmative action Barry would dare play Niccolo, was a neat trick that I didn’t pull off. He told me go to the [Press  and show my roman knights for sonata comics , and of course I didn’t and was here, or there, or wherever I was. 

I looked out of  the dirty, or at least waxy from the candelas, of the high days, what English fag came up with Easter Id ask the always fronting Time, and never get a second interview but alas have beam invited off and on to s end in work, which my brother thinks is just a scam anyway alas they do still as salons do, wonder about bulletins written from the country mice front, ever they get theirs, windows, Now, out on to the streets of whatever perpetual ROME THESE DREAMS DO OCCUR IN AND PAST THE MEDIEVAL,  NOT A COMPLIMENT FROM GUIDO RENI ADORING ME, Saint Anthony always demeaning a shushing as one again a dirty spic, the not white criminals not decried in the enclaves of vineyards into the folded woods,  had dared bring that conquistador ethic and indulgence devotions too close to Roma, the Etruscan queen, whose name was the name of the later town, stolen by prissy barbarians none the less barbarians, no matter what Treys our on as father despised Churchill even before Oman’s relations did, even before he was unceremoniously thrown out of 221 B –or is it 10 whatever marry Poppins address that was, Anglicans as so much has been since the Knights. I looked outside and saw on the streets of chaos of decline and fall, there was a half naked Colbert, crushed and charged against a field of MARS Larsen, shattered against the career marble they chipped in these subconscious rains. My mind wasn't playing anymore, as he got all that he derived, more than just having to do from the new Yorkers casino cover to his broken Janus mask, caught in the throat, on the cover of a Joe like photo newspaper, as I knew the day he sent the democrats selling into a communist who looked far too much like Stuart Margolin was the end of his stopwatch, tick tock tuck, height for dusk. 

There on the street a gaggle of thugs, one can not have the decline without then, though the democrats, Nicolle don’t like the catechism   inherent in the word Republic, though her ex boss Mac Kane thought himself a Roman fighter, if not a Basement, to make their revolution be peopled with girlie armed boy chicks and fat bloated dykes who were originally at the Paris streets when Direction sent his cabinet victorious Romans into the medieval days that would take much in mother Italy. I heard the beloved by me television writer speak, but paid no mind, as he was the kind of romantic writer I always dreamed of becoming back then was somehow was again perpetually 16 as usual, but News view isn't what it used to one, much less CBS, another deceiving trash like poor man crayons Letterman pretending he tried to veto this ending that even he could have seen coming if awake or cared a whit. The boys of the empires streets between him well, strange I  didn’t think my dismissal and detesting of him as anything so Caesarian, as thought it was more like Wally's Mad comics and the perfect Ralph and end satires of early cathode tubes and Cyclops island. I didn't think I  cared so much , or had any bloodlust for this , frankly, little more than salon joke telling , almost French type of Trimalchio who one did an act that was the reverse of his new destination in heels. But I  was Romantically stunned and revolted as I  aw his glasses hash against a base of brown orange , dare I  say Martial, stone that held up a less than greekenedly perfected statues and statutes OF ALL UNBORN  TO HILLARY , GIANTS. I saw his woody like horn rimmed glasses go shattering against the foot of the iron man who made the venial Achilles into a transvestite , yes Vestal will always be part of it to the Italian you hated and laughed at in dreadful Fellini, as that is the perfect word. His blood gushed, and his face was smashed against this literature’s forgotten, almost buried master. That had to mean something. Why did I dream this, and it wasn't like what Denzel was told to say and be about the rains either, I took no glee and delight or even despair in this, as I thought, as Bugs said before, He asked for it. Not that there is any tot for tat about what anyone believes in, but just as Dante could say about the magnitudes that he waves off as useless and worthless, at least, like Roman Antony believe in something. 

And then I saw the thuggish brute soon to be seen charging Madame into a diverse land back alley. Their abortions, I was told by now actually defrocked, or stripped of any charity by the house naggers of the mausoleum of JP Moraga, where the fat corpse burns in a nonexistent hell no Italian or Roman poet or lithographer need b sent, the nightmare of if what dream ever come to the Macbetheian marriages of those who fear death by loving power, weren't done for Italian war brides. As they were the first herd to think, always, as the biggest most italic thing in this acne commercial of an empire, the thugs of a thousand riots on a thousand streets, ah politics thy name is woman, took the fascia, the standards, the symbol of the free public, the hammer and the ax and finally smashed it against his bloody head. But then, I am a romantic s the usual white sissies and unmarried pigs of now, so fared are they of failure when he tried , did Colbert, to get a good riot working, well, no one showed up, as there was a shooting across town that ate up all the headlines and klieg lights.  Ah yes, sorry Rona’s at MSNBC if it isn't soon to be not called that, You THINK YOU REGARDED WHEN YOU BROUGHT IN Bess Myerson in again, to shill the Drones, the Roman fascias that didn't get the pin cued rites put on the big board pf televised network programming,  that he would have thought they would, know your place, clown, all I  could think of was what… I love parades.