Hughes & Windows XP vs. Star Trek Part II

Mr. Hughes is gay, eh? What's her "Contact Information?"

At the time of some swearing (as in sworn-in), I will tell of how the USAF couple next door disappeared under a gaslight replica light on their front lawn of a St. Rita Avenue apartment building. Now, due to this and much more, I have a new Bond franchise for you, and aren't you tired of the "Bond" movie genre? C'mon...tell the truth.

Yep, I've got three "Rita Movies," and I am not writing any more, because some fool might kill me over an unsold, unproduced movie script. Hey! What a country! "Famous," in the black? Sounds like an oxymoron to me, but not in a locked-down USA. Oh, you are free? Tell Mr. Hughes all about it, at the senior center where the seniors want their Social Security Retirement check, Medicare, and drugs. That's why they commented to wit: "Nobody talks much around here," and I will never forget the day they were hollering, "These people are crazy!" and they were not referring to Mr. Hughes.

Airlines? Who needs 'em, when you can pay, blink three times, and you're in Tokyo. Or Moscow. Or Beijing. Nuts? No, I'm not, because when you see the sign that says LITCHFIELD, IL on I-64 and then wonder, "What are these streetlights doing here?" that turn out to be to the south of SPRINGFIELD, IL on I-55, someone is trying to tell you something. What did I do? I cursed all the way down U.S. 51 in my thoroughly "bugged" FORD FOCUS, and only wasted about 90 minutes on the back roads. (BTW, policeman, how can I have two VIN Numbers and no car? Just wondering, but maybe it's another "Hughes thing").

How about that ride on U.S. 50 outside our nation's capital when the Maryland State Police were kind enough to turn-on the cherries and deter a pack of spy rodents who were gaining fast on poor Mr. Hughes at 85 m.p.h.? Ticket? What ticket? This is no damn Bond movie, this is the Royal Policeman, and he owns that transporter beam, not you. President? Don't cause history to repeat itself, because I do not intend to say, like grandpa did, "Sorry, I don't have time."