Even when I don't feel like blogging, I do, because the "Homeland" criminals just don't get it.
From the diary:
11.23.09
0509
"What I have long called the "degradation and humiliation" has continued with a vengeance here at the P______ Inn. We've had two unauthorized entries to the room, with several pairs of socks taken the first time + items left askew and just items moved around the room the second time. On the cuckoo message-sending front, the housekeepers have marched back and forth out front with items in their hands and displayed colors, like B___ V____, the window lock was jimmied, per Hughes tradition, the blanket was pre-burned with a cig butt hole, the window lock broke when I tried to fix it, and now we're seeing lights out (bathroom) via the 30 CENTRE power surge, no doubt. "Plans" are, of course, formulated "on the fly," and I absolutely don't know what to say except, "Get me out of here!"
I'm a criminal? Don't think so, but the neuron-frying stress has me threatening to:
1.
2. [REDACTED TO PROTECT THE GUILTY]
3.
And I put M___ B______ in the hospital for such behavior? What did I know? Not much.
William C. Hughes
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