. I can make some truly amazing dishes I can make stuff that could make some restaurants weep. From the most basic of ingredients. . BUT Despite my ability to easily do THAT Sometimes All I want It a large bowl of cheap white spaghetti Covered on loads of melted salted butter. . No skill No knowledge needed (but Never the ‘easy cook’ crap – there are still some standards) . . If there is one thing I learned from having a sexless marriage... (But you love her too much to ever be unfaithful) - When you can’t get a romantic hug in real life You can always get a “hug n’ a bowl”! . .

Like a car in a parking space. Each and Every day I feel I need to "validate my parking" in this life. If I can "validate my parking " by helping someone, anyone, in some smallest of ways... ... Then I don't feel a need to "vacate this parking spot" that night when I look at the ceiling and feel despair. Because I made some tiny difference that "validated my parking space." For that single day, Only. ...- for just One More Day... .

! Men as protectors? Who men protecting woman from? Exactly? Because IF your Only answer is ‘other men’ ! And IF you cannot see how batshit insane that problem is... How deeply flawed that logic is? How crazy that sounds? ? ...THEN I am Not smart enough to explain it to you. ! . A Man and a Woman hug each other lovingly. . Her: “I feel so safe in your arms” . Him “You should not need my arms to feel safe” “You whole world should feel safe anyway” . Her: <pushing away and punching his arm playfully> “Shut up!” “I’m trying to be nice here” . <There is a pause as she returns to hugging him.> . Her: “Well then” She whispers… “How do you feel in my arms?” . Him: “Like a real person” “Validated” “Whole again” “You Feel like home” “A Home I never knew I was homesick for” . Her: “You should not need my arms to feel that way” “You should feel real, valid and human anyway” . <They hug each other tighter> . Him: <silently thinking> ‘ i wish i could believe that ’ . . She h...

. “Holding out for a hero” by Bonnie Tyler Changed to “I need a Yenta” By Ross E F Lombardi as a spoof. (I’d love some singer out there to do this spoof version) . [Intro] Do-do, do-do Do-do, do-do Do-do, do-do Ah, ah . [Verse 1] Where have all the good Yenta’s gone and where are all the hope? Where's the streetwise Matchmakers to fight the risin' odds? Isn't there a love queen upon a fiery steed? Late at night, I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need . [Chorus] I need a Yenta I'm holding out for a Yenta to make things right She's gotta be smart and she's gotta be wise Because dating apps are Shite I need a Yenta (yenta) I'm holding out for a Yenta to make things right (yenta to make things right) She's gotta be sure and it's gotta be soon And she's gotta be larger than life, larger than life . [Post-Chorus] Do-do, do-do Do-do, do-do Do-do, do-do Ah, ah . [Verse 2] Somewhere after midnight in my wildest fantasy Somewhere just beyond my reach...

 . 14th of Febuary Ahhh! Valentines Day . That holiday, that like Christmas, We celebrate . We celebrate lonlyness We celebrate tears We harvest the sadness of others And try and make a few quid off of it. . Well remember This "love birds" Even IF you fulfill the fantasy of a long and happy life in love One of you will die before the other Leaving one of you devastated! The longer the "happy marriage" ? - The happier you both are? - the worse the pain will be for the one left. . At least us cast-offs will never hurt anyone we love like That! How's That for a touch of comforting shadinfraude for the undateble ones! Most of us will never have to face That level of pain. So, "Ha!" "In your face - happy couples"! ! <mic drop> !

. #Art #Artist #Redcar . "Unshared Memories." Art By Ross E F Lombardi . "Sure Redcar beach IS beautiful.. " "But.. "... does it even matter?" "When any of these little memories can not be shared with anyone?" "What is the value of an unshared memory?!!" . 3x A3 canvas . Canvas 1 A Lonely Redcar Man in the daylight . Canvas 2 A Redcar Sunset . Canvas 3 A Lonely Redcar Woman on a clear moon filled night . Some background: Whether real or just in my head. I feel passively rejected by the wider art community. And while it might just be my own paranoid imagination. The last two art things I went to, I felt unwelcome. As if no one wanted to be tainted by my "looser stank" So I'm pouring all that feeling of rejection, all that pain, all that feeling of isolation, all that suffering and that being made to feel like worthless shit, INTO THESE Paintings. . . PS . I will Never bend a knee to anyone just to have "success...

  Cost and Value (A   Ramble Thought) By Ross E F Lombardi . What do people "see in me"? . HA! No fucking idea! Likely nothing - by no one. Probably absolutely bugger all! I'm just another silly meaningless voice in the darkness Another lone nut shouting on the Internet. Making words that will do nothing. And art that will never be felt by anyone. Both - soul filled Creations I cannot even give away for free No one wants them No one wants me Just a man with no life worth fighting for. Not worth defending himself for No reason to survive No reason to thrive No reason to even want or care about making any money for. Or go to the doctors for a checkup for. If I made loads of money? Who would I spend it on? Anyone only attracted to me for that reason, is already, not worth the effort. Why get any medical checks? It's a hassle! A total waste of public money and resources. Who am I staying healthy for? I am disposable ...

  7am on a Saturday morning By Ross E F Lombardi . You know what would be Far nicer than making comments on Fartbook and Twatter at 7am on a Saturday morning? Making someone you love a cup of tea in bed and chatting, about your plans for the day, your shared memories, and a thousand other little minor things. The body warmth, mild scent, and presence of emotional intimacy as you talk about something simple, like, what brand of beans to buy, or which walk route through some woodland is nicer. Or the best name for a hypothetical cat. Feeling the same sunlight through the window, breathing the same closed off room air, and feeling that gentle affection for eachother. But that can never be 'me' now. - So do you know what I am ACTUALLY doing at 7am on a Saturday morning? I am, instead, making comments on Fartbook and Twatter. I doom-scroll, make comments on the internet, and scream into a neon green digital void, a demonic maw with endless teethy rows of sharpest plastic.. - This i...

  . "Unshared Memories." . "Sure Redcar beach IS beautiful.. " "But.. "... does it even matter?" "When any of these little memories can not be shared with anyone?" "What is the value of an unshared memory?!!" .

  "Dear everyone, everywhere" Size A2, oil paste on paper . Dear everyone, everywhere . Loneliness is not that bad Friendship is only an optional entertainment, it is not needed You acceptance is not required, Love is a lie Sex is overrated: Porn is far more convenient I am right - and you are all wrong ....about almost everything. Gods you all worship are all actually evil entities. The flags you all kill and die for are just 'rags on a stick' that I'd happily wipe my arse on. Popularity is just a "chain 'n cage" that tries to seduce and controle you All your joint, closely held - traditions, cultures, habits and other 'group rules' are rancid Your opinions, "likes", and 'gifted' 'charitable' tolerance of me is not cared about. I'd rather break than bend I'd rather die than comply YOU Are shit! We are all crap None of us have any value STOP trying to "save me" or bring the "nice before divorce...

  THE FICITIONAL FANTASY ‘PIT FIGHTER’ WARRIOR, THE MAGIC POTION .. …AND MY TRUE REALITY. – By Ross E F Lombardi . Imagine the following scenario (This scenario is a metaphor... ...but we will get to that later) . Imagin you were a pit fighter in some warped dystopian version of our world. Indentured, enslaved, forced to fight against your will. . Every three or four weeks... ...without warning... Ready or not... No matter how inconvenient... A van pulls up and takes you to the pit fight. . You are thrown into the pit to fight for your life. And if you win, you get to live for another three to four weeks. . And this repeats. You only have that three or four weeks to heal and recover for the next fight. They don't care if you are not ready It does not matter how badly injured you still are. Again, with no warning, every three to four weeks, you are picked up in the van and still forced to fight for your life. . And you keep winning! But the damage that never gets a chance to heal be...