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Anthony Acri
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cartoonist, writer, master, pinball wizard
cartoonist, writer, master, pinball wizard

83 followers
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DEVELOPING...

Every tine I see Devito OR THE Troll under the Milvian bridge he was married to, or any of the house wops, I recall my stoic and dignified father saying once seeing either this idiot or some wop doing his act, Dont these beasts have children trying to grow up in this cesspool...wont post for personae reasons, but this is an excerpt from a to be published essay of mine, as no idiot, I only queried about 60 times before I realized they seemingly wanted the art i cobbled more than the essays, and theyd take those if only absolutely necessary. I sent the apologies with the art, and have thus gotten four of this done in a few days. This is important to place here as prince among men I am, will always do the hard sell, and too saw house wop equal Cuomo brudder be so upset when someone said something about dame Hillary, worst revival of little shop of horrors ever, or is it Sweeny Todd, and so I recall him as posted at the time, just take it as such a good house dago, when someone implied his father was a mob tied loser since he didn’t grab for for power with the Grimm aplomb , of Mother Hubbard. Well, do wake me,old Roman Antony when brother Bill does help destroy the res publica with such helpers as old man Erronius and Lawanda. Oh i want to be at that that triumph...I HATE USING THIS OUTSIDE COMPUTER THAT THEY THINK PEOPLE ARE BEYOND MICES, I have to get out of here and get back home in time to watch my nigger Fred G.Sanford. But again, do wake me when Bill is a destroyer of the republic and less like Ovid than the man who cast him out into the winter
lands, ouch, as that day, Bill Clinton becomes everything you think he is, aaaaaat least to a Roman schoolboy. There might not be a parade that day, Lucius, as the democrats are always willing to avoid parades when the queen of the maypole is a cop killer, as the dolingout the confetti Jew Shylocks in purple drag, cant quite get behind all of that.


an excerpt

fēlan is old English for feel. What makes you feel attraction ? Please feel free to add anything else you think is relevant.

The Smart and the pretty, the earthy and the fleshy, the warm and the Neapolitan girls that attracted Roman senators as a respire from the awful demands of prerequisite war for constant requiem, perpetual war for perpetual profits, all ways as war, as comely cute ladies smiling at the old Pompeii-an pillars in more danger than anyone would think. I AM DEVOTED to the zatftig and the warm, the sisters of the operatic sun in the Italian ancient cities, the smiling, snide smart princesses that no northern barbarians can ever really kill or rape out of existence ever. As sadly today, even, a show a bit loud and brash, called 2 broke girls was canceled by a station allowing a snerdy little twerp to swoosh and play Roman satirist, no i’ve dealt with his paid minions. they have all fallen out of the good lifes tree, although Roman they arent, and no satirist artist am I, not really I am a ‘oh how noble were the nights of old’ type, ask Rachel what that means, she does occasionally sneer when the vulgarians make their salons into may day and once got a like from her or one of her coven for knowing that salon is from the Latin for silo, as it was where the swells and the grave robbers like Bush kept their salt, one more precious than Gold and hidden from the plebs, as Saloon therefore means what youd think after the crash of Coriolanus. No, No satirist is he, at last this isn’t Rome, I have known that since 1975, and Beatrices long ago, and my Ovid-Ian moments don’t come within and around the gallows as do some. So, be a dear Bill and when you bring the Bushes their entree, do wear clean glovers, they know where your hands have been, and make it snappy, they like their niggers to really jump, and for gods sake I hope you didn’t Jew out and get crows again and got Pheasant for the party, and god help you if you didn’t tress the pig correctly, as no one deep down wants to eat your shit anymore...Satire is what closes on Saturday night, literally as find out no Horace is there to sheepishly ask Cecily to dance as a country mouse would, he is no satirist, this cretin creep whose hands smell from here of boys room disinfectant as i have seen that monsignores smirk before, that closet will spill open mark my augers words, as satirists are not on teams like Borax or the rockettes, and they die alone bleeding out into the porciline not begging for their time-slot. He now lecturing the audience, as even Rosie O’Donnell peels away as things get as shameless as a Shylock, the only talinate thing that George will ever compared mother courage Hillary to, as it seems sad to me that the Roman comedies are unheeded as Steppeinwolevs at towers of fairies who destroyed Joepa and placed innocent teachers in jail while uncles eagerly diddled their nieces, as rapists show upon parades of democrats and football stars, as epsn lace-curtain Jews to beacon from dusk to dawn as Rachel dopplegangers are sent to the showers, and how,it is sad that Roman anything can be ascribed to any ninny who obviously never read Plautus as if he did, wouldnt be lecturing the audience after a reaction GE seemed to want to get, until rethought, or at least crunched the numbers.Despite my love of Plautus and Roman farce, i hate hate it when things get , well,Too Jewish, and shameless. Though am developing an idea watching this much free TV, as the Romans knew it better all be free, health care, lawyers, especially when the the patricians are stealing AT THIS Rate, Trump bless his vulgarian heart is Dick York and Bush and the Macckane Scarlet wings of the empire, is Dick Sargent and the res publicans as always dear Elizabeth Montgomery, as i read that Endora, the last Amberson, and Calpurnia in modern or at least mod dress, seemed to have extra oomph in her diminishment of less goofball aging Scopes, hated by the preening king Col Brady reciting a bible, and more snide untakable Durwood 2. Sad today as queens of nice spit the bit, and dont as Sallust said, want to take dictation about the appulse sign as the only credo, i proudly say that I know the Romans sonnets inside and out, and dont lecture the mezzanine as tragedy tonight. There are two less girls like Kat and Beth on the cesspool of American television, called a wasteland which is now more TS than Sherwood Shwatz , as there are tonight two less Roman dancing girls dancing in a stage devoted to death and war, as i can recall being demeaned by some women over a piece called bad verses and had to ask what bothered them more, the fact that I hated, or at least was fatigued as evil always does by Hillary, or that I came to the defense of another brunette victim in another slasher slop, an actress named Alexandra Daddaddo, soaking of transmuatio out of dullsville....And these lesbians I think named for angry old Greek broads said Both, ah the sanctimonies of the bribed, and I almost posted their names she wed know what floor of the Manor they washed for the Bushes who unlike Isis, can always find a buyer. Two broken girls are gone in this gay day morass of license, and that is sad, as they were the kinds of woman liked more by me and Bill and Cornelius Tacitus, and hated therefore by Turners Red Sonjas, Hillary the mother in law from hell, and Judd Apataow.


http://felanzine.wordpress.com

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almost out of data on cinco d mayo, a drinking holiday we dare not recall was a military victory day that the serfs are never allowed to have. I always thought march 9 the day Amerigo came to America, to escape the Uncle of the gal he got pregnant, a man named Medici, so was the perfectible American holiday in this spasm of love of immigrants, Dust off Marty, Judd, no not that one, yeah that one back there, but that would replace an Italian holiday with another and not nothing. That was an amazing tack to take as the gumbas jews lose the north now. This is earlier than ever before but okay by me as gave, sent, my Venuses, especially Patty the bunny accepted much, except the new Yorker, too much Don Orcheck, not enough Charles Addams, and my Hercules and their asking where have the Italians been in all these plagiarisms of Italian folktales. Larger placards than i have ever done, as knew all of Italy you weren't, and that detergent blood is meant for wops on film, not cunts as the Bushes weren't keen that Pollocks wops and Jews were suddenly in their country club, and though as perverted probably as patricians have always been, the more outlandish hags have always bothered the familia, as they did Hillary in September when still wearing pearl necklaces from hubby and tweed braziers, as that hag bitched about having to be seen too close to Trayvons mother. But a good week for the res publica, as jew york times hemorrhages readers as did didn't even when scribing us towards imperial wars, stupidly pencils in Bushie hack Bratty, thought Trump hate was a calling card, and not a vocation, and old Stevie the amnesic finds that dyke drag is an anathema to the Roman Goddess. But did my share of admiration these weeks as it seems i am not the only one wondering why no race of Amerigo is on the starship, asked to cover the Anglicize by an accepter, and this time did it because was asked without vitriol, and it turns out a lot of gals too wonder why the race of Beatrice can be called ugly and laughed at and the barbarian cunts cant. It seems everyone has a Nana. I do hope Colbert is destroyed,as in Sparta, like Hillary bombings, its the only way you show you have a good heart. I had a feeling that old Steve was either the Unknown comic, or more likely, Vaughn Meader.

#reapealandrelaceColbert #FireColbert

http://antoniusradiocomix.blogspot.com/2017/05/goddess-of-fields.html


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There comes a time in all republics, when the wolves are at the gates, the men massacred in merciless wars, the woman raped and taken as concubines the children made slaves, the temples of the gods are grind to the ground, and the holy relics sold for trinkets. At this time of suffering though, recall this, that the laughter and toasts of patricians and swells, to the plebeian ear, sounds the way Vomit stinks.—Truman Capote quoting Marcus Cicero in Tru, to explain why his last book was about the vulgarity of the jet set. [Thought about place a picture of grinning jackass Colbert, his hatreds are useful you know, i am perpetually being told which Roethlisbergers lead the parade and which Incognitos to hurl at wolves, but reassure as my mother would say he reeks of the mallochio now, loser is he] Also a good one, “Outrage and sanctimony is all manufactured and fake, its all American Hokum.”—Gore Vidal. I knew when my own unrelated work was hurled back at me, and Vikings placed as best of soldiers, take that apaches, but first get some cab fare, I knew things were shifting, as they always do, don’t blame me, I didn’t hire Brit Brat Brat Stevens to tunnel in. oh Steve sweetheart, lesbian drag is always an insult to the Roman Goddesses…Know thy audience, girls…


http://antoniusradiocomix.blogspot.com/2017/05/goddess-of-fields.html



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OTISBERGH…?

All satire is by definition despised and detested by the true believer, the devoted, the stalwart, the con man.—Juvenal.

To all those who were meaner than they needed to be over my pieces, I do do better with my art than essays I note as Jewish yenta Audddray tole me I would. To the hacks and hams who were truly upset somehow in this cesspool of America, over works called Tony land and Bad Versus, in which I more than intone that Marvel comics and the democrats party are pretty much Cesarean mausoleums that worry most about if the whip is holding out, suck my pawnbroker, symbol of the duchy, balls my dears as again I am the auger. Other lebso white queen hag who dared tell me that purple is some how the color of your revolution, right down the plate to ole roman Tony, beloved by priests so long for, it would be such I said, meaner back, ah the Romanist of ethics, as there is no escape from French Guinea and purple has before stolen by Soersos like Jewesses and Hispanics, whose missing chaplains we may not recall, steeled jazz and magic realism from the motherland, Purple is the color of imperialism dear. I know that because penguin, whose roman books have a purple sash, told me a book about the fact the Etruscans were civilized before Romulus got there was bad for their bidness.

Calling the Roman army the indigo girls was seen as ante gay slur by me, somehow what isn’t , but no, was merely sad Virgilian memory muscle memory before the wops all became fools, or lesser fools or fools with a smaller take, whatever, comedy writers with purple sashes will get there soon enough, which is why I have gotten a share of likes from fellow roman schoolboy Bill Clinton. I have a measure of empathy for him lately, who has openly avoided not only his wife but other senators like a Satan more akin to Virgiland than a Pentateuch. As reading Clinton ties is passé, at least to me, and so, saw all the pretty maids all in a row, where Caesar said the old men go to die, a senate that aint what she sued to be but then what is, anymore, as they all took time out of the ides of state date and time, at the perpetual proscenium arch to say how much they admired Trumpie for sowing the imperial seed, boy that was close, you can call in the dogs now, ah the dogs of war, which was never a commendation, at least it wasn’t in Virgil, I do not know what Shakespeare agin was ever talking about, if anything other than what sounded good. And the war ethics at old dying Erroneous has taken hold, were off to war again, girls, see above, old queers like he and Scarlet was feared might be gone once the plebs stopped voting for human urinals, in laws, brooders, first wives and other riff raff, willing to send men so wily nilly to die in perpetual wars for perpetual profits. Nothing you do, no make up you wear, no orbs you put on that were not spun in Tony beloved Rome, dear Jewish senate hacks funnier now than ever by being serious, I placed what Augustus thought of Plautus elsewhere, its how we Romans feel about Al Franken, as Mazini, Manzoni, Labradora and Verdi were senators of tithe remade newest roman republic and we get Buddy Sorrrrelllll! You hacks, and so, to the cows and fags who dared be upset or call my work harsh as get keep being invited to join guilds and since we are on the road to Lucca, in more ways than one, gee who shall we get to play Shylock, George will has a gal all pecked out, I say to the wrecked and the war lovers, sorry you brake the roman seal and Coney island hucksters fear full of the dismay of the army, or Aries, no Mars in Jewish occupied lands, too pagan, but god knows Thor is always godfathered in, once you put a man on yours shoulders it will be hell to get him off, as feel badly that you goaded Trumpie into your war dance gals, but being emotional your set piece of getting the vids of chidden gassed by Man Kane’s armaments best customers. But, am not nosier than a long time, I really don’t care as do page after page and you made the same mistake as in a book I write called Acrigola see...about a semi fictional relative, a drunk and a playboy who in roman style wins the war and then kills all his enemies as it was becoming a Decameron page here or an Andy Griffith show in that old men and Jewish comic shrill hacks were making us all feel bad as the Barney Fifes or the prince Amerada’s of the dying dusty frontier town in the mezzagernrno were having the dubiety to sneer at Otis the drunk and act as if he beneath them, aha but that’s where the Romans story spins, and then the Jewish haks run for cover or say they were always on Publius side, all along rooting for him, once out of the cellars.

As again youre shocked as Augustus said before Jesus I am a sword, why we don’t often mention those red letters from that prince of peace. Easter isn’t the spasm of Jewish month of the dead it was perpetually for them, as kids and girls ask me to do a grimms comic, and like public domain I am never sure, but will if do so do for a gal who came to me with admiration not even a commission but kind words as was putting Violet back together as if boy. A man asks me for a threadbare publisher on sumbishmash where I send everything now, even paying 5 bucks at time to hurl my Roman pages and my getting all the jokes you’ve got, at the devoted and the ante Trump stalwarts, I take it the Bush check didn’t clear as you had thought…?, took five days for them to tunnel up and screech of false flags, ah but the Bush crime family is soiled enough having to have invited all those Clintons to those cotillions of power, so, being even remotely pro Assad is out doc, as they dream of an imperia where the Methodists rule the globe, and was asked if I can write like Calvino. I ANTE IT AS STRANGE IN THE SAME WEEK COMPARED TO CALVINO and called harsh. They admire Calvino much, ask for a book I sort of implied when I said I wrote a book as a 15 year old about how the bestiary of ariosto came to haunt the spic sweaty fraud who was Gig Marquez causing him a less cutiepie madness than you’d see in Cervantes. I have, he said a Poetic pitch, but Roman poetic, never effeminate, never butch either, not that sissy shit, despite being called harsh. All I know is I rote like I write, roman and curt if need be, but am a boy still in a land where purple is the only color that matters, Red is the color of radicalism, hun, as has been since the anti Caesar partisans used blood and a flag with a hammer and a sickle the symbol of the roman relic, ah Marx was a roman buff, just like Bill and me, sorry gals, and writing in a cesspool where aids victims were being gouged, so I think I have my finger again right on the spot.



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One of the gals I deal with now, who admire me in this same way that the nuns did, and who were afraid the clever and calculating Jesuits were make me one of theirs, your alphabet soup of perverts means nothing to me, writes to me and told me in some of the essays they liked and linked to this year I had again a money moment of augerism. In bad Verse—no wait, no #Dembones I think, I spoke of something called ‘Lesbian drag’, to me the errand of a decline and fall, as when the flamboyant gives way to the stoic Hulgas, the death dealing the warrior queens and the sad and the payout masculine, as if we aren’t Spartan enough. And I said the meanness inherent in it, the probably means we are in fer it. And then, at fagots best moment availing him left to go after another woman, as is his Anderson Copper careerism, in fact, Steven Colbert, not above anything himself, he wanted the credit for after weeks of an Asian gal being targeted he decided so do magnanimously to call off his dogs, now being told to hiss and boo at the correct moment showing a level of Dudley do right that I always hated about him more than my fellow corrupt Mediterranean Stewart. He dressed up as dear RACHEL, insured THE CREEP FAGGOT NINNY, and sued the thing I thought an exemplar of the stupidity of this age. Ah, but devotion is less roman than it sued to be, and in fact a shocked poll shows that following the silent dead puppet Madam, without a Wayland to pull the strings isn’t cracked up as that great an idea, even in or especially in a fake republic, and I know something is up as house everything Lester the molester is doing commercials in his own Andy pie way, hugging victims kept around just long enough to get the shot. I know when to make a sign to warn away the evil eye, as always thought myself a roman clown at heart, but by accident, in doing a requiem for Chuck Barris last week asked for as others who admire that sad age of the Babys and the imperial aplomb of comics with bags over their heads. as opposed to we wondering if they were fake then or now. I sent it all to lesbians not as availing to me. Named for hungry old Greek broads and not Roman heroines, showing how out of it I am. But instead of tempting fate, having found dikes who like my work and my rescued from aids up dagwoods Moonbeams and disco too, I dropped the essay down, as I, unlike the National Biscuit Company have no ground to make up when the rabble starts revolting. Chubby Moore said we are all Muslims now, I think he meant Palestinians, myself, so go do your Kennesate work, between ides, and stave those Etruscans good, between wondering where the north went. As again Resistance from Sister Gertrude sputters to me sounds far too close to what she must have told her staff when lecturing them about the Christmas party, when her husband showed up.




http://antoniusradiocomix.blogspot.com/2017/03/and-every-time-i-think-of-you.html
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So good night Mr. Barris,….

As your days of imperial splendor and vulgarity now gone, recalled with perpetual news from hacks and steno men and all is above board and all is decent and all is well at this perpetual bewitching hour, in which Hillary was alas as I always thought, not even good enough as to play medea well, much less an Oviddian witch, as something bumbling and shits stained as I said before any one, this way came. Ah but hubby famously came before and this was the week a gal told me, despite it all, as much as she was to hate Trumpie, a part of her a small hidden away part as large as anything that can bring down the battleship Clinton would always admire him for having dared the witch queen and her henpecked dearie, as I will make it eventually to hear you yayas and scumbags in one of them perpetual Columbus days called election years, I willed earned that you lesbians war queens, and sorry the more clinical term Dyke, you better burn Ovid like the barbarians, whose romanticized visage you put on magazines about the globe as it was invisioned in 1885. I will demand that the cunts and the whiners start burning Ovid as is necessitated by your blood and your ilk, and id like to see you take the copy from Capt Billys whiz bang, who alas seems gone, but hardly forgotten.

We don’t have newlywed games or god knows gong shows anymore, we have above board and credit rating checking and wholly shitty praetorian television who try as they might to disparage Trumpy without allowing anyone to recall they voted against Hillata first and most, as they giggle through the ruins and Barry the foray, why Tinkerbelle was just---leaving, another of the omegas pledges that our Bluto has always despised, I will demand that eventually that you white cows and creeps and Bush family attaches make Ovid a poet of imperialism, while say Hogan’s heroes is on, always a strange word when said with a Spanish lilt, as with Virgil and thus all the dido’s and the sad woman of roman history and all the Tarpeas can be unspoken of and leave the self serve gas station of literature to the Lady Macbeth's, and the Catherine’s as seen as through willies sissy eyes. Good night Chuckiebaby, as now we are an empire without not only satire, but eloquence of the vulgar or carnivals and the ratings of the perpetual purists are showing again I Was right in quoting Cornelius Tacitus who seen as a Roman farce to watch a gal named Lucia , always, a bodacious bountiful brunette as her Cat on a orange slate roof aplomb shows always enraptures us Roman schoolboys, when the usual succotash then tried to use shame, their first go to as if we don’t know that are all on the pad. Cornelius would have no part of it, he loved war and warfare like all liberal gumab Jew senators always do, and said, the works of the Greek are unreadable, inscrutable , unwatchable…irredeemable.

But to show I know the basics, A toast of roman beer to Chucky baby, and his paper bag comics unwilling to sue the smirk as easy aside, to satire and to dancing girls and realizing too late roman Tony knows the arts and witchcrafts you pretend are your own as you more quickly than you thought, end up at Bush Numbers when you make Bush amends, ddaddaddeddeddbbbbadddennnnneeeeadddebbbe that’s all folks!, you get Bush numbers, its Roman calculus, and to the vulgarity of adult hood where in your ass is a response no one ever more is allowed to give. Poor Rachal, now blaming her audience a Roma no no, with Her living out her Paddy Chaivesky tragedy, and within hours of a shocker poll saying the rabble hates the democrats worse, why auntie Jamima and Rastus, Lester the molester and Donna Brazille both did mea culpas begging not to, as they always are in new Judea, be the ones shipped our first, as why Lester cares about the filth out there, if he absolutely has to. To show my bonifides I said that eventually even this crew would get the gist, usually all what Rachel has. But all has a good side as when an Arab glees native and hilts off people who had been actually recently looking down on the nation of Beatrice openly and almost admiringly so, only a few years ago, so, again don’t expect me to cry, when one of our scum backed Arabs either does or doesn’t do the bidding of the kenneset of comedy writers, well, there is at least and unlike before imperiousness, there is quiet from the Jews and the gummas who played it all for all it was worth. Without any true decency, or god forbid thoughtfulness,that corner you hacks have tiled yourself into,the true roman aside, as who the fuck paints a floor outside of West Virgina ?...so, a Requiem of silence unseen by the arsenal of queens so long, at least and by chance, a quiet for the death and and the dying and the sacrificed to Zoroaster, wait I mean Islam, whatever pays the Bushes wages, anyway, at least a modicum of decorum and silence if not shiftiness, from the peanut gallery and the old dying rats of an opulent Venice, doges who sing of war with glee, finally, even the Machiavellian silence has made you hush up. As I said before I won’t want to hear anything from a senator who lived as buddy sorrel and now thinks himself a charioteer in girl loving, farce adoring, smart Cornelius tragedies or the farces he loved going to when not again as liberal senators do, speaking of the decency of the noble savages, before dining out. There is no satire, not anymore, only housewives and decency and lesbians on the air going through sox drawers and tax returns, and reading love letters aloud, all but Billy boy’s, whose his if cracked upon would make the national biscuit company turn into a barn or bestiary, where the sentient clever fairy tale crows all sing of Hercules.

Next: And every time I think of you ….







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I keep answering ads I think I wish to do the work most, as am accepted to do a Star Trek satire, for one if I can make it a satire, who…me….?, shit, its about the only Italian yeoman on the star ship Anglicize surviving the Kahn who wins. Oh send that in, please Tony, one said, one more willing for the Juvenal’s aspects of it than the other, accepting it,but who thinks I draw nice spaceships. I am doing two chapters of it now, backwards. Still would like to have a chance to do my swipes at English literature, or what passes for it, mere translation and traitoring as Russell Baker said, finding soon after an anti soprano column, like Harold Bloom after trashing the dreaded boy witch Harry Potluck, the PBS luncheons weren’t as open to him as were before, in fact him escorted from masterpiece theater, which made its roman bones on the trashing of the Graves of Suetonius. He amid the middlebrows, was paraphrasing Dante. A swipe at the English literary, I daring so in the Italic as much as anyone’s art Comic book, as hate Rawlings almost as much as I hate Dahl, it seemed to me a real strange underpinning to Wile E. Wonka ,saved by Gene Wilder with his producers charm, and exacerbated by our Burton, a Gahan Wilson without the warmth. But as I said before wasn’t shocked when after thirty years of an English beauty banging out a witchoepoo after the next for her husband, she jumped at the chance to play loveliest Elizabeth and get her hands on those shoes. And would like to do my Harry Popper, scabrous as it was called by Zoetrope polish starlets, as answer to that, called by me Harlen Pouffer , I am nothing of not subtle, perhaps returning the fantastical beasts to the glass Bestiary of Ariosto, from which they were bought or swiped like a puppy mill, as I wish to get revenge on Disney and Dahl and Burton and the rest for Collodi and his snide little puppet. A lovely idea I was told, as warned them as much as anyone that when you are a character out of Virgil, you’ll be dammed if you avow yourself to be made into a stooge out of Tolkien, with all the gay innuendo and false endings and tarot doors, as don’t like Roald and or JRR or JR or Viking thrones and don’t wear German armor, like ironically you Jews do, and made sure they knew I was talking about my buddy always heeding Machiavellian Roman Bill. A heroic thought, Tony, they told me, a lovely idea, and again, was told the word Commendable, which is besieging out unacceptable now three to one. The line has impact as to be honest, old boy, these English publishers told me, a Roman amid the sissys of Hogsworthes school for sensitive boys, as you called it, is a lovely idea, but around here in pompous London, we wouldn’t touch that with a ten foot pole. As for poor Rachel, feel badly and sadly she was as I thought fingered as having been stupid enough to wince when Roman Bill dared call his marriage of connivance and rape insurance, a moment out of that Vita Nova that keeps cropping up, as Doge’s ties have turned a baronial purple, as a gal noticed and thought of me. I don’t join in when incognitos and brunettes are being hung for public enjoyment.




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