THE PLASTIC MENAGERIE, THESE DRAWINGS OF MINE 2. 26 September 2026.

 

Having read Roman history since I was a Jesuit trained boy, I can pinpoint the exact moment some hag, coot or radical slime is finished., as the curia, same root as circus,  can get legions to be creeps in sashes, boy lovers at the cloak room more then they can get them anywhere close to Germania after the imperial conversion. And Constantine was no mere mayor, learn your color codes, dears, fat women with bad skin, bad hair,  and pop bottle glasses will never rule the  earth dears, as Sweet old Captain Billy has been reduced like a fox to perusals on the internet, But seeing IN THEIR SOLEMN HOLIDAY, NOTHING THE NUNS SAID TO ME IS SACRED TO A WHITE Woman, yesterday that Angel Martin here par for a smiling goon Trojan jackass, couldn’t go a morning without laughing it up at the death ceremony of the lost forest, I knew he was finished as radicals are always more trouble than they are worth. 

Like Biden looking at his watch while the  dead were carried before him, at least Clinton, while dripping, had a true sense of decorum, he lived for such star turns,  that coloreds and marionettes don’t. So as old coot Biden was destroyed that day hed drown for the rest of his term, I knew the curia was always ready to get rid of him and his assorted relatives, and now, the well to do socialists  already upset at scansion from this smiling nothing, wont take another smile from him, as the die is cast, and you’ll find out what’s was Greek to them. Bring out all the Alfrankens you want, hey maybe you can destroy Trump and get him to kill your enemies, how clever, but see, I still recall the bel Arabs. But you’ll always have the Vomitorium sketch to fall back on. Even I am shocked sometimes, as was today when the collected goons of Fox news, football divisions, acted like a game already tearing scabs off of the age of three card Monte ghettos, acted like that game in Ann Arbor last week was “a miracle“. As Christ would say, for my next trick…Cue Sergeant Bilko as our Virgil, how are ya. I shouldn’t have been shocked though, as the snake as Dante said, will come so famished hell eat his own tail, he said of Minoas, as again smiling it up at the few times that the overfed Superintendents can try to act patriotic and caring amid the wearying of fatsos and drag queens, wearing blood soaked Boas is something no mere clerical hoodlum can walk away from. 

Super season 2016.

Outside of a few straggling praetorians left at Hillary's life long sing song of Medea, i have gotten a share of good work, and told what quality work they are moved to call it qs some pass by or wont place it in their low rent new yorkers, as national lampoon said when i was a kid, goodbye to all of that. There is nothing sadder after AIDS than an aging praetorian after all, and early on into all of this, I said even eventually the strgea wife would bring our Petronius Bill downwards into the gutters, and eventually she would have parade worthy of her mispent, abused,  life, and her own praetorians would indeed hold a triumphal parade as they all crossed %th avenue. 

Again if after a certain age you re still a hatchet man in the praetorium, that just means your blood , as ma said, had been flooded by the fat that the predators and picadors,  have thrown at you to eat and mixes with a bile that can come only to those who are vulgar and vicious and useless , all at the same time. Boy, I miss the National lampoon and still try to create my own Nuts and Idylls and odd bodkins, and Mad in dotage along the merry ways. So,  i might have issued it but i dont recall it as  so, as Bibi came to the bauhaus legion of nations, where Capote one lived, in the salad days of Carson, and started to spit bilge at everyone, as all are liars he is assured with usual aplomb, , all have to be gotten even he with over Dauchau, and he had a bloated bolstering bombast that frankly showing hwy i cant stand con man Mamdamik, a nice even eventual illegal arrest, would have been perfect as a moral fitting ending. Of course, thought nothing happen to the mole people before getting too close to Sanhendrins Ritz suites meant that all were arrested, as October blindsidings are after all for suckers and the pleb people. Until they are not. Please no starlets and old doctors from must see tv telling me how to weep like the Antony scolded Romans, over palestinians, when i can recall what happened when I dared one or twice merely mention Jedah. Therefore, the compassion of  Narcissus is always an insult, probobly, to you. 

THE AMERICAN DECAMERON DAY 27 A COMIC STRIP> 

Actually published once by a lower rent Playboy. an art school attempt at Olivia De Bernardinis. I don’t have to apologize for my CBS minstrel show.  I got a lot of “we want to see more: this summer over my again Petronius minded satire of Jewish creeps suddenly not as war mongers and now anti AI, once the polls were received. And so I have gotten some nice retorts over my rewriting of 2001 but with Elmo Musk and his beloved Gronk as HAL. Despite not chasing my losses, SO MIGHT SPEND THE REST OF THE YEAR FIXING THAT UP. This is not my Univac. All my heroines  are Roman Vestals before various Clintons and their stregas  made them all into dumb blonds and victims, and for no discernable meaning whatsoever. So, therefore I  might take the rest of the year to :flesh it all out as it were, as unlike Stanley i java nev er had to take my name off of anything, as i knew that Spartacus was a Howard Fast foray tale from the get go, and that his disdain at slavery meant his slavery, as like jesu, the thracian prince thought in the Romans world that place and frankly counted for something. 

Now in the dregs off the worst summer since I had in 1980, I seem to have taken a relapse, and have a body as sore and as tight and as beaten as its ever been. But as I have said, despite those hangedrons who are befuddled enough to think they still brandish teeth for a couple as seemingly historic as Gus and Livia, I have done well enough. I count the year as a victory of sorts, the modest in the very feasts of Janus that my Sunday comics page by the way of Hal Foster , The Black Knight, i do not know or much care anymore if Vulcan junior so something owned by dc comics in its famous wally wood era of greasy lawyer;y tactics. And I showed with the installation of that page at my best Alex Raymond sunday supplemental best, that i had achieved something more than the merest cartooning page as some of

my grabbed with both hands play boyish cartoons and satirical comics have been all along. 

Witch reimagining Halloween comics 

Some days I do, despite myself, get a really wanted piece sent in and accepted as that doesn't happen all the time, but as i said, i take what i can get. Asked to round out the pieces about Elmo, and his dreadful Gronkm his Uniblabb, as  i have as i have done since a mere boy and took on the various liturgies of a church, which was meant for closed prefects to hide, and still make money for no apparent reason, really by milking the poor as a sacred cow. As I,  unlike some, more fearful at some literary magazines, I took on the deared Elmo, open the pod bays doors Alfred E, the resemblance is striking so, an  like Keir as i said in one of the pieces, still being hem and hawed ov er as if I have said something intemperant of our least est god, and i made sure any who make a point  that nothing done with the help of Elmo’s divine box will be used, as if i would!- I took on the spec ex, sounds like a laxative though, and I noticed a whole back that they, it, whatever, making a point about my having gotten only three acceptances  along the way, when in fact I have twenty pages of resume, including winning some amazon consists along the way. I made sure that I wonder here and there that indeed Elmo was in fact praying to a least of gods, and one again as it ahs been since Eugene v  Debs, garage in and garbage out and soon enough secretaries doing the nails, will be able to point an accusing thumb at Gronk, or Opendoors chat or Anthroporfix, whatever tabernacle we have been allotted , which the democrats ike beady eyed Joshie were all gung ho for and will be again as soon as power will be theirs finally again, they think, i made certain to say that at least about me and the harvesting of information about me, one solitary  jesuit strained student who read Ovid while you all were licking dicks , eating carpets, or just kiting checks, that Uniblabb was after all, wrong. The emperor has no carbonite casing as even the phones still catch fire and must be thrown out of the purse, as come again Elmo causes his space junk to shatter and effect the goddess of the moon, as is somewhat romantic to some, had said. 

Vestal accepted 2015.

I made sure that it was here and there and everywhere under his reddest eye of control alt delete that in fact Hal was wrong, and that maybe an Arthur C Clark, a boyhood hero of mine, no fan of shit like Dune of Herbert’s mess, that he it was wrong again, as some of the devoted nuns and the priests and evocitively the lutherans who my mother and the nuns dispised for making women wives, if attractive enouLh, and removing from the earth the mother Gertrudes, which have kept the know;edge that fat blaied wops like Jimmie legs and blowhards dont like to have to recall  or remember as they have made a pact with pompous stupidity, meaning no Inomonatos here, cause if bill Clinton is deprived a conversion scene, amid the chicken frikcasee box lunch unmarried women, hag and not vestal cornered, he will ba dmanned if you get one this  far away from the ivy covered Eturian  villas , which at the drop pf a queer buiness in the park round that rere, can always be remade into  of set design more befigtting hogans heroes. Again, I am not one of those lovable Italians you see on television. 

I am glad to see on brave that indeed there is a growing contingent of they and them , pro, ably women who cant stand tha very sight of ray romano who is as we search for an enemy of mine than any mere northwestern Colbert could ever be, I know he is a con and has played three card monty, all along. As it wasn't me who fresh from a smoldering crater of a show that I tried to affix my name to the dreaded gospels of barbarians called Tolkien; and why did the greatest liberal since Gore Vidal love the daredevil elvish man who outside of the painted  back cover made to look like was not , when he as placing his less than  virgillian sonnets, though VIrgil is sadly one of the masterworks that JRR, the height of arrogance, he didn't spit at, which I don't know what that even coil;d mean, but why did Steverino love tolkien so much, when i, taught liberalism by the Franciscans nuns couldn't stand the man with Masseys’s face. I could hear Captain Billy's whiz bang from here say, you're not my friend. 

What perhaps is the cold and the fact that night falls most quickly now, as it seems like my Leonid birthday was only days ago, which I guess it was. But still, what is it that makes it hard to stand up strength and walk about thai long, as have gone through almost all the pens, and a thicket of paper was  destroyed by a latte again, as I have not been able to walk into even a dollar store, much else get any larger hold or food at the local giant eagle, but all that is helping me lose the egregious weight. 

II.

A BUNNY"S LIFE 6.

For the last seven weeks or so I had sat there in the now colder but perpetually tempest tossed nights, covered with a sheet of flannel, and I watched the egregious, once adored one by the prairie mezzanine, Romano, who name is an insult to how many Romans have died at the end of civic swords along the way. I read Labriola when I was 12.

I know it is electron year, as the Roman hammer and sickle of the Roman republic is soon enough to be dropped on the floor, swept away, as the whole romanticism of the fat girls attempt at pretenses of surrealism pf socialism,  as they hit the local wal mart, for jumbo packs of frankfurters, like with Jedah, please no sanctimony from the hags yes who made Monica jokes for baby jane or huey along the ways and means. The Romans roots of the very image is known enough by the dreary and awful Bush family, they are what the Borgias were to Guicciardini, now whose dumbest daughter as the family recalls so, speaks out of  about poppa’s veracious unlooked into various tragedies along the roads of the family empire. The whole Jewish theater pretending it was an Italian commedia dell arte came to  boorish crashing end to me as it seemed that the editorial decision was made that in American one sung of by the Chicano dancing girl who couldn't breech the walls of Miami that close to Betty White , neither could the father from the delightful Breaking away from when I was a boy, as every so often the doges of hollywood judaism have to  admit that maybe one incessant movie from the crucible of Stan Lee isn't the way to go. 

I could take no more of this goon, and his orange nose and his constant shrugging and laughing and mugging was too much and now that the brother had to be mailed off to suburban marriage land, as the jewish owner of this plastic menagerie had to always do, as since Norman Lear marriage is all, as even Paddy Chayefsky new and said as much. By now they both made Vito Scotti look like the Leonardo in the show I saw as a kid. 

The parents were by now dying it appeared, as geriatrics replaced the merest of timing for old Frankenstein, and what was truly awful about palming thai married to the producer in law into a show she barely got without diluting the part of a brunette wife,  who can't give birth to a blond child, they who was more commodity  than anything, and when heard that one of the twin boys, basically there to emit sound, had killed itself, knew that had to mean something that Raymondo would have to grin and smile and tap dance his harlequin way to. When he had to be married off, showing not even a measure of the laws of the gods of comedy and tragedy, without an even verbal empty saluting of the calculus of Plautus, the two boy men had to be married off, there was no third way , and there is escape from malta, I would guess. But worst of all was this Jewish circus owner bringing in as they do, elderly guest stars, this time Jerry Hubbard and Georgette Baxter, whose ghostly Jim Naborslyisms is inescapable it seems on the Futura televisions nowadays. Watching them come forth, they were always Irish. of all people, as God knows they never been criminals, or trash,but trie to stereotypes unsaid,  who couldn't stand a policeman and his overreaching studdabubba mater, orr the wax figure of il duce that Peter Boyle had somehow become after shooting all those hippies to Archie Bunkers Mad magazine delights. I couldn't take this and said an almost ghetto like  oh hell nooooo, I said, I;m not watching this shit,  i said aloud and quickly thought i would go to another station where the transvestite  Divine , as a math whiz eat up american illiterates in a show called the Chase. At least until Rue and Beatrice were on at the end of the night. I have also decided to stay off the magic box of the computer each nighttime, at least until the football games are over, although the Cowboys again aren't giving a great sense of things. 

But then, again by merest accident, I thought I had gone back to the Raymond, as saw Patricia Heaton again, but it didnt  look the same as it didn't have the wave length of a  wop who needed a roman ampitheater like live audience for his perpetual pratfalls, a mezzanine again, in which the roman vendors sold slated fish and herald beraed. A comedy tonight. And she was , dare  say, older, but yet still  attractive still a mid life dancing girl of the parts that could catch the eye  of a Senator Cornelius, who  attractive, as a mouth breathing plebs asked why he wasn 't watching Medea of Aeschylus droanings, said,well, I've told that story enough. She was older, but still showed a comic timing as despite her being curvy,  funny and bawdy, and dark haired here more than there, she was never one of my favorites, as i was sure she was looking down on these bumper car long island  wops before her, as a kind of circus act. What bothered me so was that these Irish trash old people were on that minstrel show brought in, comedy paratroopers to keep the laughs going, always, just go faster as Burhle, their Niccolo, told them all, sketched on, what vasnt…?, hired  in as they seemed to be, as i had avoided this show religiously once, since it was first on, I couldn't get over how these Irish, again, did i mention that these jewish Cyclops  producers, with one wop to hold the bag, were looking down so put on   these horrid wops as if  they were some sort of Amefrican gypsies, places no roman sanctimony coming from shit like Cicero twns Hillary, as Roma was a word from southern Italay, the name of a hidden Etruscan queen retold as Joan and teh dreadful Bodica now torn quietly from history channels, in fact my fathers own places, before they ever stole their first nail. 

III.

Within moments I sat and watched to see where this was all headed anyway, as she seemed more in a film than even the loud garish television show that was somehow going on at the same time. It was I came to realize when the second show of 4 came on, a show of which I had never heard of called the Middle, Malcolm in the middle redlined, I wondered, as a boy in th cast did look somewhat like the little dumb kid from that sit com, which i am sure some lesbians again somewhere will demand censorship and or apologies for those who they un-elected and unappointed take as their own charges, but as usual leave the Romanos and the  Sopranos alone. Although I am glad to see the push back on Ray ray and Seinfeld, and soon enough no democrats worth his salt, hummmmn, will kiss Jimmy kimmel's ass, as they will eventually recall where it has been.

She seemm=ed very funny, willing to be physical, she could at anytime go into a screaming match as before then, and i noticed that her family was replaced first off with, of course , a wasp father, dead pan funny no ;oberache needing antics and boy man shit here, he worked with his prince charming hands and didn't stand in the press box or even play golf as wops do,  stealing the game back from the legions near the muddy walls of Glascow. no dumb dagos here, and children who actually had something close  to personalities and that and who weren't mere collected  baubles for the upwardly mobile Italian fool.

I had grown tired of Letterman’s wop show now abandoned for The Middle, taking place sweetly in the town of Orson, Nebraska, maybe,,,?, not the same jole  as that eventually bleeding suicide clown Mork did in his dreaded show and then tried to pretend he was doing a Visit to a Small Planet. Please. 

I had tired of it when saw his losing his mind over him not getting due respect from some Newsday ashhole who thought that Romano wanst a good enough to be a sports write , which to be fair is where you get your William Safire’s now anyway , but still, there is a reason i have taken pains  not only to avoiding getting into theater call flights with the collected trash of X and such, that a new millennium show, slef appointed gate keepper had to keep this wop out of a long island tearsheet, and if had to do it all again, and was offred a Georgetown  scholarship or anything else i was, well my answers would be different now. When I saw the sleazy Guvvernor of California openly vetoed a fag bill yesterday , well, I wasn’t shocked  again, you wont be seeing the true fascia anytime soon, hammer and sickle of the men who took Tarquin down which still hangs on a senate fill of woman and trash and aldermen, i knew hat that meant that somehow whose name wast even on the ballots was looking ahead and making sure nothing came back to haunt him. Sadly he didn't fear a knife in the dark, a goon in the quad or the boa of a killer fruit to take umbrage if he was told sadly not to, Free beer the signs once read in the neighbor hoods in Latin.

Still, a better moment than the  guvber of Californee being true to the invisible waves of political biorhythms has had and seen since men named Marcus and not Bill  rolled the uncompassionate earth and the walls within it, it appeared that before than they had ever been before the duce whose masadas are always good, duce of the circus, and still in September, not your or mine show of all shows, SNL opened its shitty little ragged curtained theater, a later show which went  i saw the dreaded doris in what i saw was older vestal’s Patricia paid back for a passel of shows that seems now most unfunny as the senators demand a death sentence for a woman who like her family, but are amusingly quiet over the demanded retrials of a swampy garden of good and evil , the roman wife, hearing of bloated Caesar approaching, rail with mush mouthed Foghorns showing again the less than o recall the nuns hidden histories, jesuitical stance of how many exactly angels dance on the head of a subpoena…? But, then his drug marketing ethic doesn't come with the imprimatur of Mark. And let's find out exactly why Colbert spiked that skit about laughing it up about what sid effects you could get before it became apparent they were selling Medea later this week in a bottle. And gaining my admiration as Payteicai and her prince valiant husband showed hypocrisy isn't something that grew exclusively in the Tiber regions, Patricia as hurried but not was an abused wife, there is a difference Hillary sweets, when she said today's mauldin witchcraft hurling weird girl can be always be tomorrow's Tina Fey. 

My father told me to never do the bidding of the white pigs in the opera house called television, as eventually the fat wives the nuns hated will hate and blame you for your lack of a spine and letting yourself be laughed at. And Patrica did get a recompense with a funnier more human show with a heart and not just the deterrent bloody hemorrhaging of the house dagos as marionettes too hide the fact it was written by jews all along. Therefore I may just spend the rest of the year doing 2026 a space audacity , as a bloated blimp Clinton had to know , like Romano, must  tap dance and make sure all recall when not only was he not a communist, he wasn't even that much of a  liberal. The Satyricon bites back, as suddenly Jewish senators are nowhere to be found, except to veto from Catiline's back benches anything remotely like a war powers act that never kept Barry the fairy from marking magnus leptis with his and the wifely quoting  child killing Caesar with impunity. F with that Elmo as the starship friendly goes into the Indian sea, or the ocean that surrounds the whole known world. Dian laughs. 

Who can't fit in is showing that there is again, nothing as business as it is all personal. On the first show of the year on their what Third Trump by now, SNL, the awful show of truly Jewish theater, what thinks as i recall it that it is Juvenal somehow made fun of the con man from the Hudson, effeminate little Mamdami which i was alerted on some daisy chain of recalls who funnily, agree with me of his Angel Martin properties, and that he is a straw man for jews like the Senate debris who are up as they were being driven around,  hate his ficking guts already, that it left him with a smoldering ego. He was upset that he was made fun of so shamelessly, after not having even brought Bibi in for questioning at the !2th precinct , much less booked him. He was unaware he and his supporting parents didn't and couldn't know that roman i am as anything is the very names of things like Drag and Camp,  and there is like the hammer and sickle no way of getting out from under any of it, i didnt as i said as he opened shelf up to looking weak something no prince must ever do. No politician should ever do, take that to your renaissance fairs and rewritten tolkien, STee, that this always end of one is lucky with Barry and his shufflers falling in unison to the music of the stage. As to anyone out there , machine or man or both, Elmo sings daisy daisssey, if anyone thinks I am wrong in my devotion to the Roman gods of comedy and tragedy, well then you didn't see how Minerva ended that Michigan game a few days back, did you…? But it was a pretty scene   when the Discovery went into the drink, and not on Europa, but it was almost a cinematic failure to launch. The praetorians never do know as Italo warned is from the Medici  to the

Moma, and neither do their magic machines, calculate well the distance to the moon. …

ALL ACCEPTED DRAWINS, INCLUDING A BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK { as the millennium turns.]

A Roman Superman is an anathema in Stan and jack land, which is why Joe Orlando and Frank Franzetta gave as good as they drew in the National Lampoon. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W2nEgYiqQUk

mister stupendous Sunday comics 

Who will indeed guard the frauds,  Thats Guards ...? 

I'm sorry that the jews and the rhinos bullied Trump onto their Spartan war council, after all. 

by the way who was calling Elmo and his Uniblab HAL 5000 meaning an early, less dramatic version back ten years ago....? 

Tonight on CBS THE ROPE BY TITUS PLAUTUS. 

BIKINI DRACULA. 

TEH DEATH OF CONAN. PARTS 1-111. A eulogy to John Bushema and Romita. They didn't peg white trash Odiners or Bahlists to paint their Aryan Tarzan, did they...? 

COLUMBIA THE fat girls hate the word America all that Etruscan echoes the Bushies hate. 

 Mr.. Stupendous. invented the same day Tom Landry created Thanksgiving. 

PLAPEN COVER. the after dark life Bill Clinton yearns for more as Livia screeches away. 

I NEVER KNOW WHAT DRAWINGS OF MINE will be censored here in the land of the free. So, I jab a stick in Hal ‘s red eye, as I’m not the one trolling for interns on the super shut down highway. That’s back when both @BillClinton and I adored Patty Fairinelli in a swamp of hausfraus and angry bitches. To f with Uniblabb and his owner I have rebased things as PUBLISHED juts to throw a wrench into AI, as it is in my blood too. 

And before we allow the river Lathe to let is all become barely legal hunting, polish princess attached, bloated rhino pigs, as Trump wasn’t the one who was no whereto be fpund on your celebration of the Cymbeline forests, and left some dump wop to breathe all the soot’s, as his family has all along. Like Joe Callifano he was dumb enough to not do the bidding of Jewish TV clowns gathered by a battered housewife, a Strega, who had made some fat and rape jokes throughout Clinton Rex, See Fat’s Bill could talk like a president. Or a Shyster or a ambulance chaser, or a perjurer,  whichever. Sanctimony is beneath a Roman, so did anyone hear about the ads before you saw them…...?

And to show my father was right, today is Charley KIRK DAY IN Ute’s land,  as in an election year all are fascists,  and the drag queens wash the floors. As I sat there with fall apprising still as sore as the wasted summer was, maybe worse, my brother came late into the front room to take ab aspirin, as he has his own aches, although I’m starting to become weary of them, too and stretch things out as long as I can. Seated watching the horrid and now hated Raymond as I said, and wince now maybe three times a viewing at this shit bag boy man and find myself with more empathy for Debra and the great almost Kramer BRAD GARRETT who seems to be an only human in the acceptable Amos and Guido this show as allowed by the Cyclops to be. He saw it on, and although it made me laugh as Robert seemed gleeful at everyone not loving our honking dago Lucy, he said with some anger, Turn that shit off...!, he said, Not to yell at you, but theses Jewish Theater wops, he said, Make me sick. Again gaining like me a Mother’s distain for the company wop. She said they’d get theirs for making one Italian monster woman after the next then, when the above board Clinton, our Marius himself was pearl neck lacing and painting the walls, no tackiness in that, dear. I'll be home when I get home, fat ass. Caesare just left. It seems that bowling ball network ABC in fact wont allow house dago Jimmy the Kibble to show a scripted interview. as it seems the real polls hid somewhere on the road to Oz are showing that the dog killers and the wops in Dodge have explaining to do, especially on the day that spitting at the dead of the Cymbeline forest is assuredly a no no. They do hope to at least be in the running for a senate seat without the Bushes having to answer why this queer has an Italian name, and why double lls isn’t a Yyah sound this far from Brooklyn. Open the pod bay doors, Elmo, to the glue from the Barnacles that Oscar and Felix thought were a gold mine is drying up. And the week from Purgatoria for the NCAA contused as Michigan like Bibi Netanyahu says a Romantic Ill sue! And best off Seinfeld the snider more cogent Raymond is openly heckled showing as I had with Joe Ann the latest plagiarist  of Atalante, I am no ranter, I, like GV, always sees it coming. Like how I left off the previous post the emergence into my dream, no fooling of Natalie Wood, as what...?, Femininity incarnate. Unsure what it meant, I just kept her out of it. 

You see i must be true to those old Italians who sired me and i gave nothing to, as despite the Virgil i did sometimes feel, if not ashamed, uneasy about them, an didn't go to a saloon whorehosue now temple of beat the clock called Georgetown despite them thinking i gave the horrid physics of Lawyers a Galilei lilt. So I must be true to them and like the clever Ulesseys untouched by Nolan, as ive seen the take by Broey, Briney, Broey Dechannelle, I hurl a spear into Hal's reddest eye. 

GORE VIDAL’S THE DEATH OF KERMIT.

24 AUGUST 2026, ALL DRAWINGS PUBLISHED. 

On my actual birth day I think, I heard the somber but pratfall news that a house or company wop as my pop called them all, a bloat named Vincent Pastore, or Conquering shepard if I recall my fathers little yellow Latin book correctly, dropped dead as a Sicilian closet doornail. This was to my snide pleasure, as I am always glad when I hear that absolute wop is alas lived out his creed to its less than Alberto Moravia end, as if my dad taught me anything it is that the wives now the only woman word seemingly aloud as I have placed elsewhere, and the over and underfed piggish flyaway hair bad skin and pop bottle glasses wearing hags and cows do like their wops to be the kind tat no one has to apologies for the watching of them buffoons on a less than silencing summer Sunday night, I was glad to hear it that once again a fat piggish ape man wop had no so much died, and dropped over dead to his love of carbohydrates, but in fact was more like a Sicilian puppet of rotting wood come crashing to the Jewish tamers tile floor, more like a Oh Calcutta than any commedia dell arte that had been thrown,

Oh, I was glad to hear it so, and saw the vengeful NY Post and its superiors at the Wall Street junta , our happy little neo con rag, work quickly to act like something important had happened here to someone who again made the Italianate misdeals of asking the Jews now on the rag and whom will find it hard to buy that sprit of devotion ever again, blame Hillary as you drive through the Poconos, and another pupazio bites as they say the saw dust of another circus tent, or it is caught under the wheel of a gypsy wagon, who can , outside their hairdryers, ever really know for sure,

And I wondered as heard it and the strange parody of somberness mixed with a few laughs over what Sicilians since Scorsese have been able to accomplish after the dogs of Paddy and any Discrepancy of dignity was turpentine away,I wondered did the New Yorker, as it had so famously in the mistrals of essay writing called the death of Calvino by Father Gore, did that rag as he insinuated, send anyone to saint Patrick’s, it had to be that didn’t it…?, did the middlebrow low browed glasses wearing Hillary coven now fearing being called communists or showing Gore again as right when he said, no fan of the junior senator form Wisconsin once, he was no RFK, would unequally have to be given a strange due, and thus, all the mid level apparatchiks of the white Vatican hill are busily truing to cleanse themselves of the communism that Joes in Mourning again never saw coming, I guess having never read much less adored Sallust,Ah what fools these war loving mortal chicken hawks be,as the plagiarist Willie stole, as I had an inkling if mentioned at all, old Vince was either too dark or too white too big a clown and not conquistador enough for the Jewish and white chick interlopers and translators to even much care, as in his requiem for Italo,Gore implied that the best fabulist this hell hole my father called an empire of weeds and highways could ever do would be the mourning period for Carson’s Brutus Joan Rivers, who even as a kid, I never found that witty,

Tired of the older woman in Cleveland show anyhow Valera takes a brunt of diminution from the exhilaratingly vapid and once cute Wendi,I did notice it is the poor English girl who takes the most facial hair jokes from the to me un take bale Betty White who I have grown though never liking her too truly despise, And she showed when Beatrice Arthur was asked why she was so cold and businesslike towards betty and didn’t really allow her periodontal feelings to poison the set, trooper Bea knew that the sortie of open locality that she could have shown was best in spurts, and the layer Roses open distain for the gal from Frazier was a tad too much,

I turned it to the even more dreaded and disliked Everyone loves Raymond, a sort of egotism that is allowed by a wop as he if it is certainly not caught dead in the Romans gardens of Italian rye, as this caste system of Jews playing Italian Stereotypes up and down were in mid show and allay, the poor unmitigated botch who is the put upon wife, the beatings that are implied as much are seemingly not as bad, as she made a mention how she as from a Normal Family, i. e ,a WASP’S PAPER HIVE, the honey inherent in Virgil’s bees and or Crackola crayons no where to be found, she has too tough this brunette that it is implicated no real American would so want.  

She is victim of la familia,when in fact she leads this dumb dago by his bulbous nose as one could guess the interpreter Jewish creep who Letterman brought it to make sure again this all didn’t go off the rails and journey into anything that could be misconstrued as a dumb dago daring to push back against his harpies shrewish wife, showing the Clinton’s blueprint for a happy marriage is indeed as American as Cherry

Pie,No matter what HAL IS PROGRAMMED, THE TYPE SEEN HERE IS ALL THAT THAT THE SANCTIMONIOUS HAVE LEFT, and so, waiting for the later METV having to replace the two hour block of Raymond and his studdabaubba mother hitting every note this far from the wife in Barney Miller, I found that , never watching it, still the interlopers at world wide Pantaloons were certain to get their moral in, and that even the blond children he had somehow with this reactionary cow witch, were held back in preschool, a joke about failing finger-painting that they were rescued to repeating, juts in case you missed the point, I thought I couldn’t stand Debra, but found myself now rooting for her. 

My mother did so despise that fat bloated ruin from the age of Barney Miller, Doris Roberts, closer to horrid Jewish hated mother than any Italian woman she knew , but then these whose imprimatur is behind this Raymond garbage as it was with their Jewish Theater, the sopranos, well, they worked both sides of the Venetian street like a shylock does, It was a glorious day to her, even she heard that bloated monstrance flopped dead of too much guilt and Brisket, as this open diminution of all those typed Italian woman who married Jews for their seasons of comfort didn’t erase that everything indeed gets into the act, Her Facia Procello, exactly what it sounds like scale, her Pumpkin jarhead on cues, Jacccuse , laughing, everything about this studdabubba bothered her, as I let my own reactions more from her than from a stoic father, who could care less and who would have been not shocked to see Meathead be killed by his own son, a cut throat closer to a Manderino than any Roman radical he might have preened to be behind the Xanadu walls, So when the old bag dropped dead, it did pleasure that she had outlived another enemy of hers, AS SHE WAS WHEN SHE HAD HEARD THAT CON ARTIST Mother Teresa, who openly spoke of her lack of faith, of while willingly taking monies from juntas and Babydocs, She knew that the admirations of that great mezzanine out there for Italian woman or Italians ar all was ephemeral at best, and that the new found by me sudden knee jerk hatred for Raymond and his minstrel show and his yelling and screaming Your show of shows skit turned into a a gaggle of Jews doing sepia face to even be on the Cyclopes at all, showed she was indeed correct, as she, like sweet ole Bill, and unlike his leech steerage forever wife, knew that Signora Fortuna will always get her last laugh on anyone who thinks they can pass by or easily through. 

Just in waiting to watch the Golden Girls at night, a last gasp that METV had to retain some audience, and billboards them incessantly, and again tired of a show starring Wendie Malick when the Beatrice who is Valerie was right there for Juno’s sake, I saw Raymond again for a first time in a years full of Mondays, as I’ve avoided him and his Herman Munster brother and Il Duce father, a hippie killing Joe, and the poor put upon brunette wife, who couldn’t have been a brood mare to bring more blond retards into the world, I noted that they made sure even with blond hair, the retarded boy is a Sicilian who smiles and shrugs through life, a boy man who was thought of as just so funny, until they realized though trashing the wops is a HBO specialty, well there were one too many fagot jokes for a curia that is in a virtual spin as Arabs again, true to their once Jewish insinuations, brought more scansion that was uneeded nad kept more money with white husbands of racial lefty hags than is needed in Italian folktales called political science.   

Unlike the Cambridge professor under  the apple tree had to say when an Oxbow , Oxbridge, oxford, sanctions was there to say that Sir Isaac was again a fraud from the land of the scribblers and plagiarists, like Chaucer and Willie, though I’ve always liked Geoffrey, that the name of the heinous name of the whitey twin wop half breed pom Raymond, and that Isaac said nothing that this original paper chaser said could be found in the works of Galileo if not older back to Roman architectural digests, Isaac said he merely stood on the shoulders of giants‘, But then one can hear the Godlily speaking to Moatzart by Salieri in music that predates a little night’s, or a midsummer’s nights there of, The politicos of now trying to find their ponies, of targeted for Eqquis, stand on the shudders of no one, especially not Niccolo or Giucciardini, lest they had seen it all coming,

Why did I dream about a x rated theater back in little Chicago, which I know left to the rats and the a gaining sluts of Valley high…? It seemed to be just that in the abandoned  dreamscape, the old time some lights broken marquee, which I would have bought had I had the money than to so it and be a legitimate Theater, A girl I knew then, we had become teenagers by now, bargaining already in the hidden ties and leaves of old Bill, a priestess of Bacchus from that time, a magnet she’d explain to me in a memoir censored on a writers site even before voting for a segregationist was seen as something they’d have to do at least until they could sign a contract to hopefully and which I root, ruin Tolkien as that recitation German so deserves, She was at the box office, here, that glass booth that Ovid said was indivisible from the strata of sanctimony that one could get.   

As I said we were teens by then, she an requisite exemplar of the Italian girl remade from Beatrice as Rape victim then my mom and the nuns warned me so, hourglass as the bargaining brunette starlet said of her double duty bra, as she was curvy in the way that the white girls ere indeed not having been.   She wore a uniform of her post, pored into a white blouse and showy skirt barely covering her massive and powerful Venus thighs as she was a symbol of all which the wop older men had to resign and repeal, and her candy bar colored short hair a short bob that was in places black and were told not to be, AS THEY THEIR MOTHERS TOLD THEM HAD A TARGET PAINTED IN LIPSTICK there on the white silk sheer shirt she wore and somehow, before I’d deal with an axis of some fagot and his stragea tom boys and I’d give in and give up, was seen as aloof but likable enough.   

My mother did warn me before I just gave in, that there were awful white woman she told me to eschew, and that they’d do to me as they had to many an Antony and Mario, Guido and Jimmie, that they’d cry rape when gram found out that they were shtupping a wop, and some used a Mediterranean calculus to hit them up for not only sex but cash from the beguiled white trash girls, and soon enough she knew of gumbas right and left who were suddenly paddy Wagoner away when Priscilla, her catch all name for the white chicks she nad the nuns despised, would point a finger as the molesters of Laura’s went happily rolling along.   Thanks of that Elmo and your Hal, remember when that, as so many italic boys found themselves in jails and worse, penitenetaries that  perverts as the church held itself up on pillars and stained glass of child abuse.   Soon enough, the Irish drunkards of the bluest eyed, bluest states, an affectation that the democrats didn’t want when tool and   died by the National Biscuit company, that they’d rewrote the law with a  codicil called the Romeo and Juliette defense, irony abounds.   It emended that their  bobby’s and buddies and sonny boys were caught up in various dragnets along the way.   As I turned over and upsides downed  I was looking for a Candy Loving of my own, the last thing I would do would be impregnate a white woman, older woman came on to me the most, how fukk the jails would have been then, as this night after I watched Raymond most despite myself , as the great Gene Siskle would say of the mob acts of various buffoons like DeNiro and Fishy Pechje, there was a level of keeping it all comic, and they never net all the way into their minstrel show to show upon what sewers it was built, Dante’s map of hell no where to be even alluded to.   In my script for a reunited Gilmore girls just to show what I could do, but a sharper than I am brother told me no one, not them or anyone else wanted to hear anything about it.   

In my pocket, I pulled out, like in the joke, as I sauntered towards the old theater owned by the local outfit than, where woman who were on soap boxes and then porno whims as I was a kid were shown , I found some slips of paper from those bourgeoning days of my own,I had written about the early invaliding into the x rated movie palace, but it was no big deal then , and I’d find as I wrote in that novella so disquieting to Hillary Voters even before the coming fall, the girl with the ironic but maybe not Italianate name, she had told me about the priests who had a keen eye for gals like her, and not always falling all over themselves for the alters boys, which was a butt of Jokes as it were before was had to ehar the incessant apologies from those who paid Gumba Jews on the peacock network along the way or at least until Larry could play a now seemingly missing along with many of the Assembly of Queens, Bernie.   In a midsummer’s night.   Shadows offending ,

The papers were of a boyish attempt impressing many, of a space opera of my own, as I did get people Italian actresses and Chakhas to ask why Italians are missing so, and not just the grand mothers who were used as human guinea pigs for a Imperial Pooh who, is certain to not expose himself of any Politburos and yet still Byzantine steps, Behind me, on the fifth avenue that went straight to my fathers candy store, there was the ruination of a war of the world walker saucer on its no longer diabolical legs, but broken in pieces, as they walkway s get, as no one understood the dirt of the west as well as the maker of Django, the now lauded and no longer a joke in the mouth of Quint from Gun smoke, Corbucci whose again Italic Genius in often spit at as indefensible by the collection English teachers who think they are the found of knowledge or at least Gilded laurels.   I saw I had the slips of paper that were my own 2001, as I try here to write this in a simple clear way as did Arthur C Clark, who being from Kings College, was free of the royals and the imperialisms that now give us ginger Prince ling with the mullotto wife, havening to rerun to the happy little inland as here in the hinterlands, he is , alas, a no one cleaning his Blind wound, I didn’t expect Virgil from Noland to begin with,

There. On the brick wall of the relic theater, that seemed to me since my mom pointed it out the inner sanctum of the italic love of sensuality that is now verboten by the barbarians and their love of death, evasively if able to be taken three times a day with milk, sugar optional.   I saw the poster of Django by the now triumphant and admired Corbucci, remade by a mongoloid wop I never much liked anyway, who replaced Franco Nero, and like Italian with whoever he thought he had to placate, Always a ruination. The sonnets about that girl I knew my hostess as I snuck intro the skin flick theater, and her being openly, even demeaned, for being molested as the Italian girls could take you happened once, as layers would tear any woman apart as a way for the cloaked Prothonotaries and monsignors to fulfill their true love of gifted girls , as I wrote the attempt at my own Space Odyssey, as already had write out my Germanicvs, a Roman story mute to Stanley Kubrick once finding out Spartacus wasn’t the stand in for any tied to Negros that he was assured by Howard Fast he was, took his make off of his Roman epic, The Monolith is too as Roman as anything, Ovid's wall that moves and revivified when whispered at.   As to me all the writers of Engelterra were indeed plagiarists at heart, and that Shakespeare was again to Dante as John Lennon was to Buddy Holly, Not a compliment.   I did resent  Elmo’s Hal reading, if it can be called that, my work and joke it discombobulated that red eye which I now more than ever not worth Martin Balsam’s basso profoundo voice.   Being a Roman satirist at ear, I called the machine becoming if not sentient, sarcastic, a word it was told not to endure, and I renamed it ‘LSID, like in Mad, and instead of Brahms, I placed in the Funk Brothers and Martha and the Vandellas, and the then before sadness Stacks and Sonny Bono as opposed to Bono,Yet the town was not as abandoned as it is now, and the faced of the half recalled metropolis was art deco as much as anything,

Sadly, the Clarkian attempt as the Bell Service and Howard Johnson’s pleadings the music of the spheres was replaced instead with a tackiness to use a word dared used by Hillary about the gold Lemay of the white house, as if it was not abused enough once that she had her Jethro Husband right in the pearl necklaces, and the pay toilets, perhaps it wasn’t the sky they so polluted as the cities of the Infernal underworld, where my mother told Doris Roberts to be encased, At a late summer dusk I suppose it was, see about the basic tridents of italic arts like politicos elsewhere and the laws of physicists that are made mute by the atmen as by some to act like as opposed to Politics and paper money banking laws and the sonnet, that magic realism inst as an Italian con job as any, 

The marquee streaked with dirty lights, then flaked open as the sky started to become puce, I guess that color is, as it my training as an artist that causes me to be as poetic and anyone ever disliked, The giant D for Datolla, the name of the family who sold out the seats to the magazine age of Spinning Swedish stewardesses and deepest throats, when I did sneak in under the girds auspices, again no one cared or made a second notice that a young lady was working there, fie the local hoods, I found it less a holy sanctum of any Venusians goddesses as it was a sad hallway of men with broken lives, shrewish wives and windbreakers that Norman Lear didn’t ever much touch, as he knew where the lines always were, A toy was dirty on the ground on the street that wan and was not at the same time, like the sword of light that GIGI never even thought to steal, lest he get the same fashioning from the Kelley girls of the new Yorker that GV wrote about happening to the man who didn’t need the Viking praise that others yearned to get, and who sealed his fate, did Italo when he unlike Marquez from his colletid gilt, turned on the communists rather than be a plant in that Prague spring, The frog of the sesame swamp, Fervid Davis’ reality street, was now left as a broke toy on that street leading towards the Allegheny river.  As I write this,  in the laconic dog days of the end of Leonid summer, a woman on Curia television is being allowed to twist in the dog day afternoons wind,  as to come to her defense  would make Rachel Maddow be against her masters at Merck, and what with her being banished from the kingdom at the armamentarium, well, …so sorry unlike Dagolike Beatrice and Estelle doing their wop shtick that is funny and light and heartfelt, I wont find Boy man Romano’s CBS ABUSIVENESS  to ever be as funny as I never though he was.  

The anger that Elmo’s HAL had at my work, it is not so much sentient as it is keeping scores, tripped over by me accidentally, was that words like Hags were sued, HAL is awakened, and yet, a blanket use of Wop incessantly was not, But then the liberal polling stations think they are experimenting at tenth levels , or at least 9. And then, shades of Charles Portis, and the old west this weed empire still is, there was Raymond, mono mondo as my mother demeaned a realer one to us, hung from the retile, a half dead corpse and for some ungodly but after first blanches understandable recitation of my midnights, Romano hung there, the Jew who stole his act to paper over unlabeled Jews we may never get, another unknown comic at the Cyclops, despite the casting, and for some reason, the put on wife with whom he had a You Tube revivified hatred for “the wife“.   As is that too much to ask for that this honking wop hang like the drawn charcoal enemies of Borgia’s whose dangling death were the first true politic cartoons…? Is that too much to ask for…? I hope to see him as he was here, with a signage reading DIED OF AIDS nailed to his trunk.   As it took a second look to realize how venomous this blond brood sire is, and a new found liking of her caused me to note his open hostility to the wop and the Jew unsettledness that she summed even then to have the mezzanine of her side at each line.   So,  the unnoticed by me before Patria Heaton, a playable Elaine, stood there is a Heavy Metal iron brazier wearer, though I never thought of her as a Julie Strain of any sort swords in the immoveable suburbs that the Italians have been resorted to, cast to,  and Bellona out fit, as I recalled when death dealers in fires and ice, didn’t use big pharmacy spreadsheets.