GOODNIGHT CAPT. VIDEO… WHERE EVER YOU ARE!

20 APRIL 2026. 

I HAVE GOTTEN BITS AND PICECES ACCEPTED HERE AND THERE BY PEOPLE THAT THE OVERFED FATSO PIGS AND PETUNIAS OF TELEVSION POLITICIAL SINCE WOULD NEVER SO THINK. I HAVE GOTTEN MY SHARE OF THINGS IN Anarchist, or at least as anarchist as one can get in the land of Wal-Mart, and have been lauded and tabooed by some who think perhaps nothing called  a Clinton ever think or speak or ventriloquist for them. 

Some of them have indeed been girls who have packed me in their rather nicely placed me in booklets where there is the thought by some that their being of The gayety means a kind of miserable lack of any morality, of any kind, no Romanism for them god knows, but then, no one has been devastated or starved or been blown to bits over Aeneas, if they ever was. One English gal took one of my Christmas lasses called over sexed although is only a Roman portraiture and outsole of her Saturnalia prettiness no part of, if I had to complete it would have been irritatingly close to the kind of a girl that always willing to take checks from the electric company and get checks with a GE surplice cyclone telling us we are all in for it collect as if at a Mafia wedding which all politics has sadly become. But that’s what you get when the fbi, dithering old Kentucky Homed senators and jubilant little negro lover, as long as they say what I tell them to, why they are almost as human as my dogs are, Jon Boy Stewart are al seated on the bride’s side, which doesn’t win as much s assay her piggish husband did so effortlessly once. We Jesuit boys are cursed with a best of fortunes…if we know when to abscond, or pay the fish wife for the Beatrice -acide that even my sharp as at tack Mother saw that first night of his insidious and perpetual Clericalism. Sometimes. Bill, all that the ides of March means, as Guido Panzini once said of the Paar tonight show, is that April is just around the confer. Only Iranian Persian Bel Arab trash would be smoked that their rallies against war wouldn’t get the peanut gallery once the Jews who paid the freight no longer nodded to commence one of Mucius’ parades. 

So, as direful and derided evil eye snatched man in the gray flannel suit of armor Steven sweeps up his last spotlight, and Emmett goes towards his sadder than not clowns end, you know, when a clown dies, or cries, or whichever, I must be true to my Antoine name and give him the requiem that he so fittingly deserves. As he is the last to be ground up and thrown aside and paled on the same pyre with Rodger Mudd and Tommy Smothers, I feel it  imperative as I did to leave a Basile like crumb in the black forests as the edge of civilization, a dirty word among those who have Roman weeks be boffo at the Met, whichever ones, and I must speak of how I came to hate old Herbert ANDESRON, A BESPECKLED CREEP WHOSE DENNIS’ WERE MERELY IMPLEID AND LEFT BEHIDN IN BATHROOMS AND RAPE ROOMS UNMENTIOEDN WHEN THE Junta Provosts became the blackest pope, as a jurist was made pope against all millennium discordant, so why not a cretin from the swamps pond what my father called the cesspool that is and was and is now worse than ever. America. I ,MUST NOW , LIKE THE ORGINBAL Picaresque Petronius hero, like magic realism being as Italian and since Dante, too the picaresque novel is somehow a tortilla more than a Calzone, but then they must be lauded and beloved in ways that no Italian needs be, as that is the last racism comedy they are as whoppster would say allowed , as she amidst there are things she is not somehow allowed to say, and a Spanish brougham is one, though she booster her merger career of having played a Richard like drug addict for Broadway babies, by being an ugliest of habit warring nuns who was marked for death by local outfit, as wops is always funny and somehow maybe you too, Robert can make the lazy minstrel show into something of what Chuck Noll said, a life’s work. So deciding long ago, I was not of the woe caliber of clowns who would actually commit the Roman treason of believing my own act, as ill just bet that Colbert as shocked when he had heard that of all people, the mausoleum of Bill Paley, after having done battle with Lucy and Marshall Dillon, as if this always on some kind of running, Dan Rather, must have been caught from behind. 

A woman at a barley above xerography pamphleteer of arts and racialism and political science that no hags who worked for face making POW for life John Mac Kane would ever admit to there brining much less signed off on between commercials for dishwashers and jet engines, we bring good things to blight, and now you’re ante War, since ffing when, as the heckling Jackals gather as a swam, or what was the name of a bunch of crows again…?, on the flaying Buttresses of the Notre Dame Di Avenue of the Americas, where the presidium goes , no sadly as I feel as if , like my brothers we were disappointed by Trump, as sometimes its better to just be a dead carcass thrown on a Roman alter and be the true end of the senate than to have to be, as Ovid said, by slopped or slop the hogs of empire. 

I was never in the need to be a Cicero, whom I hate, as again its better to be a copse on the Roman amendment house than to be Cicero who is paying for unneeded and again Octavian hated Confetti everywhere one goes. How does a man lose the zeitgeist…he is listening to enemies and Jews who heralded Biden, no matter as long as new Judea supplants nove Roma, as I wonder does the Jdater, if that, blonds make a single file line, just like scalpel, put a pin in that creation, no really, well all get back to him, as indeed Gummadi Pilliozi plays the Turk, and the haunted woman if she can becalmed that, makes sure a Livian vowel ends not only her name. buT her title as unisexed, undersexed fagit loving defecation of allowed women is dream no Roman ever had and the word to be correct, as Copula can tell you is Brava, as the watches are up for slashed fire sale prices. Ah you see knowing this since forth grade, and seen at HBO, the trash and barbarian rages still wear a Roman drag, and the Sicilian diminution is for fun, but the sad Roman detritus is for honor. 

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1ctyx

This gal in her again Xeroxed booklet she sent me to keep, as other higher up art imagines wanted paid for even so much as a cartoon accepted, fine by me, the resume s I say to a unbelieving brother is all, she was thinking about how it was so apparent now that Swill well, well, the representative who played the part of Cassius’s but in a modern cress Caesar that didn’t have the heft of the nominal pages of the tragedy of Pompey the great, upon whose bones it kept in places as a shroud of words, as it appeared and I was told as much that Pompey, like David with the Pergamum more than Judean attitudes, my father would not have been shocked to see that the sudden reversal of a noble savagery. And when I say Xerography, I do not put her down, at all, as heard and know all I need to about graffito from roman walls, disliked and dismissed by mushroom yellow submariner Aaron, ill have fungus on that pizza, as whole Roman walls are at white trash museums as worth their weight in cement, unknown of in the dark ages. 

She emailed me, as she like some, and not somehow AI until now in search were upset that it seems that Swill well, he who has all the television city aplomb of someone selling depreciable silent on the high sixties channels, came and went unnoticed by the midnight riders of the dying networks as they look to leap away from, the crumbling black rocks, as had George and Gracie and Jack and Top Banana Phil, looked to escape the burning arson that was vaudeville long ago. How did you know, Anthony…?, she said me in type on a glaring screen, how did you know that there would be silence this time from the fat bloated puppet Etters, water carriers like Colbert and Jimbo, as indeed two weeks in and there is not a word said as Michelle, the Livia with a human heart, she just ate it, smiles and reenacts about the feral class of politicos. One thinks, get out or back to the kitchen, dearies, as Hubby builds the makeshift Stonehenge, a Church of the mille gracias to himself, that Madre always wanted his heart buried at. The Jews who screeched for this war and got their war, well, even Bobby of the Nero has to send out images of his racialism under fake names a now low for American Italian trash as he, and she wondered how was it that I knew, whether scalpel for not that Fang was a joke I would make, and that the Jewish pouter wouldn’t dare to do. So, began the death of the twerp in the gray flannel suit, be gone as they don’t make midnight roulette as they sued to do, once, and crying and kidding you not has become a sorry state of not being or having to be funny on purpose. My father, warned me of it all, as I note the Anglican girl, she liked the charioteers I have made my family unto, easily a smart assed brother and his devotions immixed with eye rolling about me, as my father who seems a Virgilian figure, she took Italian literature as a sub major and of course recognized the Brethren she also had, as think she is English too, as she recalls not with fondness how the tragedies and triumphs of grannies people, aha! Were damned but be being recounted, if not reacted by slick Willie at the globe. We are not all Beloved queens , she told me, as is Ian Mackellan. But I have always liked Ian, “will do any comic book for cash” Mckellan, so didn’t much recuperated about that, but alls, we have , like with many a unmarried girl Anderson Copper sees as sissy broodmares, just like the Nazi’s, we hold a hated for blond pigs daring call themselves stands ins for a beloved Kim Novak. Again, like some, she is a woman who wouldn’t be caught dead at a Hillary Rally, as Machiavelli said we are not all well off enough to be at such changes for the rich, a reason he is so hated by the smiling animal loving filth at magazines so sanctimonious, and yet where all are on Atkins, and being thin, despite any dancing pigs and hippos of big Phrama commercials, is still a Capote age relic of swans now sung their last long ago. She accepted a drawing of mine since art school done of penthouse girl Jamie Dion, a Bill fave, as again mere bust, and I mean the Romans sense of the word, head and shoulders in a Father Saturnalia cap, twas the midnight before Saturn’s day and all through the casino, …and my more or less new journalism about the marriage of Figaro, there are so many, but the one at a Roman armamentarium , where the pacifists frolic Ennius, caught her fancy and was allowed in. And somehow I get essays of cnf about Lisa schoolgirl in magazines that seem devoted to queers, who after all have been pro war as I say to admiration and the horror of those who work at Spacely’s Sprockets, since Sparta. I don’t see as much of her as was. I think my story about buying the pictures of her in boudoir finery as a fellow HS student may not have been as excised as they can do from the constitution when the fat girls have another Nicene conference, as drunken Julia’s smile with tragic anchor girls that the hags and harpies try to blame Cash for as opposed to some spic who is playing Eisheied in real time. 

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

So, goodnight Steven Colbert, once laughing at a cackling strgea, making fat jokes, a champion of women who I never met at the Funny Bone in Pittsburgh as every of  those skinning nights hiding death threats, bra straps and spitting at the marble wall got you what you ought to have. And silence ensures. Of course, coming too late to Columbus day this wop, aging Imperioli,  was busily playing an Italian cartoon during shock and awe. None of the gumbas were even heard from while Bushie was torturing the starving. Therefore, my empathy for Arabs goes back to Jehdah when I was offered a going rate to be in a dying magazine now suddenly anti war, you know despite the votes bartered for once,  but then there is a reason a wop will always wave a flag, their meters are running. But then, I didn't become cast by J3ws to trash my Fathers race...who Roman Antony...? I can read chapter and verse where Shakespeare stole everything. If not ...Bill Clinton. Despite having been and have here a certificate as good as any in these dark ages, pop said havened exceeded yet, Met lifers, that my Roman befuddlement has indeed been reciprocated and admired by the Injuns no less, making me a Lakota in good standing, I always take the position of admirers of them with black hair as told a girl too busty and too darkie and yes too Wendy for the unmarried gals of empire, and the merry wives of By the, god only knows how many secrete ceremonies with Tuscans slave girls our Augustus has had. 

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

I am not schooled to hear that the Indians on speed dial awls there to black list and blockbuster for anyone in the one perfect that Barry the fairy thinks a white momma so includes, they are now after the still not sanctimonious enough Washington football team, who as a less than diligent Cowboys fan still, I think get what they deserve. But like Cobert and heinous wop named Jimbo, my enemies, real or invented get their’s. And more often than not its them just living out there meaningless lives. As a woman, fat baited, yes ugly in ways you called the Italians daughters  over and over to make sure that the rapes of hillbillies went unnoticed, I went to the hated Amazon as get books I never bought or just placed in a cart, papers I do not like, comic books like Conan id only buy on sale as have one in colorful pages of disrepair, I bought a disk  of Microsoft work 9 as was told I write better in that stylus than any. So, to the accountable once owners of the redskins and anathema to dying espn as Vikings never is, now realizing there is no winning ever obviously, as the Indians are upset now by the image of a spear’s they are mute on Florida states, I say call it the spear of destiny, a accruement of Rome wanted by Hitler, as saying that, no one like Liz Warren taking a scholarship not from me but a more beloved ethnic, no one will even pretend to care. I wont cry for smirking Colbert, whose eyes , or myopic eye as the Polyphemus case may be, ah the truth and consequences has dawned upon him, tired and beleaguered ahs our teepee Jethro alas now becomes., I wont recall him, though will make a sign to ward away the evil eye as Gore did on a Roman street, but like the Etruscans on Columbus day vilified as the Bushes and barbarism and the church always hated always  has, I will recall the poor Oriental girl who dared say a word against some goon on the wasteland my father called television and having a life practically ruined over it as he honed his Rube Goldbergh machine, but with knives, I shall recall the fact an American president was called a faggot by the handmaiden of a wife of a rapist, i will remember that. And mostly as he cries in the window as a hypocrite always singeing to a tenth row of an abandoned theater, i will recall the jokes made of a last Princess Cancer victim, the eyebrowed cow who got laughs without begging for them, and of course the blond girl , what else do he and his frauds chased after...?, the girl at the Funny Bone in Pittsburgh, i in art school then,  who said her and others had their bras torn off of their forms, from them, by a squatter of another man's nests, now he hates CBS, no body begged Doofus, to see you win,  who has done more to requiem for Colbert than the King of the vista Carson ever did for the uninvited he. I will recall the great Liberal as he twinkled and nodded about the poor stupid plebes not as positioned as dreadful he having now to eat Campbell Soup as Pirates and Stewart in laws stole nest eggs, the great bleeding heart or liver or whatever orifice spewed his puss. Good night Dick Martin wherever you are, and so, good night unto you all, give me your hands if we be friends and Morey Amsterdam will restore amends.