Obama's Osamas

For God's sake, Osama died of typhoid in the summer of 2006. Paris is wrong about everything? No, Paris Hilton was right when she alleged JOHN MCCAIN is a "Wrinkly old man," and Paris, France was right when their CPL. LOUIS LE BEAU types reported somebody got to this particular bad guy's water supply.

Do I have to find out "Who done it?" Mother of Pearl! Have mercy! And, is the Ventura County rumor holding that Sen. McCain dunked a few fighter jets in the drink true? Hey, Navy, I'm getting old, but I wouldn't do that. Those planes are expensive, right John?

Right!

Tom is Dead, Tom is Not Dead

NOT EXACTLY THE "FRESH MARKET," BUT WHAT'S FOR SALE AT THE I.C. SECOND-HAND STORE?

How about that big rabbit that ran from INDEPENDENCE CENTER, BOB HARVEY? Who ran the BAY OF PIGS OPERATION? Never mind; it didn't go so well. U.S. Generation 3 told me to never trust someone who uses initials in lieu of a name, and I have further come to not trust anyone who has the word "black" contained in their last name.

Why have I known so many "PatriCIA's?" The acronym "CIA" is in the damn name, and I am on my last nerve with their foolish "mind games." In my sorry trillionaire life, "KARLA" is the name bestowed on a female who comes along and befuddles the hitman at times of maximum danger (he's around all the time, folks, and I've actually befriended a few--I'm that kind of guy).

"Karla" has come twice; once in 1976, and again in 2009. Now, yet another Karla is reportedly impersonating a Case Manager and having sex with the married male clients at a local social service agency. Heavens to NASW Ethics Code!

Ethics code? In Arnoldland, the "social workers" are uncredentialed, and in cahoots with the sheriff. They think stress "causes" mental illness, so they will surely f--- with you until you are indeed "crazy." Then, unlike the situation with CHARLIE SHEEN, who's daddy knows better than to leave him languish in Las Roblas, the taxpayers will get Proposition ZZ dreams over a "revolving door" of, "Ain't got no MEDI-CAL" Texas-sized hospital bills.

Seems I wrote a 600 page book manuscript on this, and though a dozen or so literary agents and several publishers liked it, there was no book contract in the Year 2000. Why not? Ask Senator Feinstein, she knows. Oh, baby! I was supposed to be murdered on August 31, 2001, and SCOTT GIOVANETTI, you'd better guard those records, because I want to know what cases every investigator in my office was assigned, especially mine, in the run-up to the big event.

Would you like to live with the thought you almost busted it up? Aw pshaw, I now know enough to be certain if that had occurred, our rotten to the core 1947 system would have seen to it that the informant, poor William, or both of us were made good and dead.

Idiots, idiots, idiots. Keep coming around me and talking about aviation and oil wells. Until I, as my former oil drillin' partner used to say, "Whop you up the side of your head?" It ain't gonna happen, California Cuckoo-Bird. The parrot is dead, the parrot is not dead. "TOM," I fear, is dead, but maybe not of a Prozac overdose. What was his last name? I think I told you on AbolishTheCIA.org about how when a fat, depressed, seriously and persistently mentally ill male does not tell you of his girlfriend, he does not have one.

Oh, but the I.C. wailing and gnashing of teeth held that he was despondent about said girlfriend and took his own life. Bullfeathers! I was subbing a few weeks for a JASON BLACKSHEAR, and the fictional spy-fraud ass at PENSKE who got the truck debacle rolling was a "JASON YEH?"

Are you people crazy? Yes, you are. Where are the Department of Homeland Security "Haldol Wagons" I have requested? Line-up for your shot of antipsychotic medicine, and shut-up, please. You too near Culver City people are so crazy, I may have to exhume the baby body of my stillborn brother to prove that was the only one, yet Star Chamber nutcases will never rest with their Dark Side "prosecution." Where is this "brother," nimrod? How did "Tom" really die?

21st and 22nd Judicial Circuits, State of Missouri, here I come.

Military Delusion = Civilian "Fact"

An entire blog piece...GONE. Stay tuned.

Job? How About Bob Hope 2.0?

I just can't take you warmongers, killer spooks, hitmen, drug thugs, defense industry buttinski's, cheap-o "confidential informants" (i.e. street snitches), impure Marriott guest gov'ment money-wasters, and assorted crooks seriously, so here is a new idea if I am so blacklisted I can't make any Bond's gotten way too boring and needs replacement "Rita Movies." This is cruel, because in a flash of inspiration, I figured it all out. "We" make HUGHES IT'S SO GOOD THE STUDIO CAN TITLE IT SCREENPLAY #8, II, Ask Not, and Walking the Cat all at the same time.

Then, the lucky actress who plays Rita will not age, "we" release them over time, make dazzling amounts of money, and if one wins a little statue, look for my back and the broad shoulders of my very expensive Harry Truman suit on Dish & DirecTV, as I walk out of the ceremony, and the cast had better follow. This will allow me to get them done pronto, then run for el presidente.

What if I get bored? Soldier Boy will never let me use his toys for II, so we can film it in Iraq, can we not? It's "stabilized," isn' t it? Is there a Iraqi Air Force yet? There ought to be--how the hell long have we been there? That's how I'll get the hardware on film, because Baghdad will give it up, whereas the Defense Pentagon won't.

Meantime, some rock bands, rappers, and Penthouse Girls could find their way to a C-130, and I can be a newfangled BOB HOPE, right? Don't look for Al Franken on this tour; he joined some type of Dirty Democrat Club. Mind readers, what would be my first line as I lean on the golf club?

"Hey, what are y'all still doing here?"

Mubarek, Please Put Me In Jail

I am stunned to speechlessness, which is bad for a relatively new politician, upon discovering over among my non-buddies at DOD, the same photo that is still Bill Gatesian wallpaper on my Penske-seized computer graces the homepage of our Defense Information Systems Agency's White House Communication Agency website. Air Force One over Mount Rushmore? Didn't that stupid Soldier Boy love it on AbolishTheCIA.org? So, he just had to put it on his page, too. Son, why did you put a hole in your own building in 2001?

Did a purportedly real CIA person really say, when I remarked on how my face does not belong in certain places, "How about Mount Rushmore?" He busted 9/11 perps? Uncovered air crash intel murders by the dozen? Dead drug thugs? We got 'em, and don't forget, "I didn't do it, I just found out about it" because the girls must have their cocaine. "They" killed a former president? Holy smokes, Batman! The prospect of WWIII is serious, isn't it? Military dictatorship since 1947? "Plan B" developed in 1948? Good thinking, guys, now start carving my face in the rock, you a--holes.

Will I be chained to the seat in a DASSAULT, BEECHCRAFT, CESSNA, OR BOMBARDIER? No matter, as long as a friendly former member of PSYCHOSIS NOS STATES known as the "Axis of Evil" agree to lock me up, feed me three skimpies, and don't spare the rubber hose, as long as I can bring a good supply of the shiny, crinkly, but won't stay folded or creased, very lightweight stuff desert talker ART BELL used to expound upon in the "Go-Go .com" 1990's.

Seems I now have a "tent" made of this substance in my RALPH's bag, or is it in the JERRY'S RESTAURANT & DELI bag? Must be another of those "Hughes things." What of it, flat-top? Now, I do not wake up with numb feet and hands, ass----. Yeah, when I saw it all folded-up--paging SIGMUND FREUD--I kinda knew what it was, but now I really know what it is.

Wasn't it in 1988 when they said, "It's the economy, stupid." [Google-goo & Wikipedia have corrected me; it was the 1992 H.W. v. Clinton contest, and so as to be (literally) tagged as homeless, but not a political gaffe man, pardon me for the confusion. 1988 was, "Where's the beef?," or was that Mondale in 1984? Do you know these things? Do you know anything? MY CALIFORNIA QUESTION: "Have you ever read a non-fiction book? Not for school. Not a comic book. Sir/ma'am, have you ever read a f---ing book?"]

Hey buddy, it is the Year of Our Lord 2010, and if I want to run for president and say, "It's Roswell, stupid," what is wrong with that? Wasn't it the one and only spouse who said, "Bill, you know something about more things than anyone I've ever met." Retractions will be accepted for 14 days only at:

Hughes Slander Retraction Center

P.O. Box 999

Albuquerque, NM 87102

Read some fiction? Only the KAFKA the missus gave me, and did she know many things? Yes, a great many things, like why ALAN RICHARDSON, LOUISE RICHARDSON, DR. RICHARDSON, and GOV. RICHARDSON = a peck of former V.P. at Hughes Aircraft trouble. Here's the "scoop." U.S. Hughes Generation #1 knew his playing cards and somehow also where the oil was. #2 knew how to make money--lots of it--fly aircraft, make movies, and he studied the difference between the male and female orgasm. Generation #3 did what he was told, I believe right up until the dual sawtoothed shredders arrived, and beyond that, I'm a little fuzzy.

Generation #4 wants his MAYPO, if you remember the 1960's hot cereal ad campaign. I can't help it if the Maypo includes oil rigs, mines, real estate, a big chunk of Silicon Valley, Boeing, the Las Vegas airport, a pre-superstation movies all night TV station, plus likely EU aerospace consortiums, super-secret L-3 isms, an oil company or two, a family of third-rate casinos that are as good as sold, and by the way, can I buy the SAINT LOUIS RAMS before they up and leave a paid for with lots of taxpayer money JONES DOME flat. [Or, did someone else buy the dome's "Naming Rights?" I don't get out much, and the Soldiers are mighty stingy with their Internet].

I used to work at Jones, don't you know? And, how about that long-term memory? The Chairman of my Hughes Aircraft Board was working "undercover" at the then "EDWARD D. JONES & COMPANY" to up and fire me because the big as a room computer and its crappy 1977 modem did not work right? How well I remember the calls to NYC in the middle of the night, smoking Camel straights in the break room, and drinking--yum, yum--E.D. Jones vending machine coffee as the first job out of college "set-up" tick-tocked on.

Mr. Hyland, who ran my company like I will in the future, called them "put-up jobs" instead of "set-ups." Did I smoke them out every time as would be expected out of Howard's grandson? Yes, but I could never figure out why it was done to me. Do I remember vividly what it was like to work my ass off to make it right, then some flushed-face, probably drunk on the job Culver City ass fired me? PUCKETT clan, where are you? Do you hear the hoofbeats yet?

To add a bit of detail, I believe I drove off dejected following my first "firing for no reason"--the first is always special among totalitarian spookies, right?--in someone else's car, because my victim of car vandalism broken record/skipping CD goes way back, too, does it not? Why was that? All together now! DRUGS, DRUGS, DRUGS, DRUGS DRUGS, DRUGS.....yeah, and didn't I blow it on Sixth Street by saying, to the roommates, "Don't you know? The guys next door are narcs!" Our neighbors in question promptly came stumbling out in the back yard, walking in circles and shaking their heads like, "Hughes, why did you blow it like that?"

Later, in 2007, I was not as confused when the elegant Colombians had driven away in their EXECUTIVE LEASING SUV, the man--you know, that man--brought his daughter home, jumped in a crappy car, and chased them, I decided not to retrieve a handgun from the STARBUCK'S Men's Room trash can, because spies tend to change their stories, and consequently, when a hand came out of the little convoy of other SUV's and motioned, "Follow us," I did not. No way, I got on the highway and drove as fast as I pleased, because, well, it's what I've long called, "The Hometown Advantage." Aw, it couldn't have been that bad, because the pretty lil' RICHMOND HEIGHTS policegirl was not there to meet me at the BELLVUE EXIT. Was that the same bridge I walked over when the highway was closed for then-PRESIDENT BUSH?

Don't you believe my stories? If you don't, I'll never even get elected Dogcatcher.

YEAH, DICK, "I LOVE 'YA" NIXON/"GOD REST HIS SOUL" JERRY FORD/"WHAT DID HE REALLY DO IN THE NAVY?"CARTER/RONNIE, "WHY DID YOU NOT LIKE HOWARD?" REAGAN/ "I AIN'T DOIN' NOTHIN'" H.W./"LOOK THE OTHER WAY" CLINTON/"WARTIME" BUSH/and who's the president? They finally put a Negro in there, right? What's his name? What does it really matter to JOE SIXPACK? Why should it matter to me, at least until LAPD recovers my truck full of psychiatric and political books. (The two topics go together like never before, especially with the kooks I've met in California).

Back to football, only collegiate, thank you very much, but I can still recall, from our end zone cheap seats, the fully extended in midair body of a SAINT LOUIS (football) CARDINAL receiver and the DALLAS COWBOY defender a step too slow and a foot away from...what? We won that game? Really? How about TED SIMMONS and a Grand Slam to end the game? Again, viewed from the cheap, nosebleed a risk seats.

Wreck my memory through years of "psy-op" torture, eh? No, because that ball was tracked by my eyes the whole way, and are we talking a high arc for a walk-off home run? Awesome. Oh, and don't forget the hair on "Simba," because I laughed at it, though mine was, and is, again long, it looked funny as he chugged across the plate. I think one of my out-of-state guests, after the lengthy ovation, said something like, "Can we leave now?" Now that I am running for president (and there is nothing you can do about it, Nazi or Liberal Fascist), I've learned to think on my feet better, so if I could go back in time, I'd deadpan and say, "No, we're spending the night. It's tradition."

Uh oh, the way things are going, next walk-off homer in the new BUSCH STADIUM, they will stay all night, but I'm not who I am, and the fans will refuse to say why they stayed. [Don't you know when spies are good, you cannot tell they are spying? It's a "Loo" thing]. Has somebody already built the plywood facade to the "new" Busch Stadium I knew I'd need in 2006? Plenty of photographs to work from, including archival stills as it went up, with little Billy watching from a caddy-corner building long gone.

Say what, dingle-balls? Ask Not was a terror plot? Excuse me, as I am way tardy confessing to The Negro's gov'ment. So, you thought you were going to steal/hold my film of J.S. ALBERICI topping-off the JEFFERSON NATIONAL EXPANSION MEMORIAL, known in the town where I am headed as simply, "The Arch?" You thought wrong.

No word from my Democrat saviors? Feinstein is beyond the pale, but I can still invite BARBARA BOXER and JANE HARMAN to a "Town Hall" meeting, can't I? How about gathering at the senior center for:

"HOMELAND INTELLIGENCE GATHERING: POST 9/11 FACT & FICTION."

Me? I'm the moderator, and if this won't fly, Hosni, will you please take me to Egypt and lock me up?

Dear Diary

Did someone fix-up my car after I sold it in 1979? Really? The guy who bought it said, "I knew you went to college, because your ad said, "'Runs well,' instead of, 'Runs good'." "Road Runner, the Coyote's after you." How long ago was Mr. Hughes being "pinged" by Road Runner and Rackspace? Try 2001 or so. What happened back then, right before my birthday? How about the kid in the UPS store who had never heard of the Lunar Excursion Module (LEM). "Were you even born in 1969?," I asked. The dumb look was priceless. Could Arnold's replacement blindly throw even more money at some already over-funded schools?

The problem is not with the school or teachers. Hint: We invented geostationary orbit at Hughes, and the boss is a bit miffed. To the handwritten diary we go:

01.02.10 6:26 p.m.

"On the way to STARBUCK'S, there was much speechifying about JACKS OR BETTER (1983), [and] STEGTON RESTAURANT (1976), where once again, I was forced out by the other cooks "disappearing." So, I drove a long way to work part-time, and the road antics began. The shouting, near auto accidents, throwing objects at my car, nearly running me off the road, and the THUG PARTIES in the parking lot behind IRWIN HALL. Oh, I just had to yell about HEAD EAST, A&M RECORDS, and my sealed copy of FLAT AS A PANCAKE which is in the truck.

"Save my life, I'm going down for the last time," would indicate to me in 2010 A.D. that the CIA as we've known it really latched-on the "breathless" and the asphyxiation murder method. The theme: WATER, WATERBOARDING, WATER SPRINKLERS, WATER BOTTLES, WATER TORTURE, water, water, water. The E.T.'s are coming to steal our water? Don't think so, Cuckoo-Bird.

Twin Towers

CORNELL v. NORTH DAKOTA, eh? Is the ITHACA JOURNAL still there? Good, because the WORLD TRADE CENTER is not.

How many rumors can the Defense Dept. dingbats of our MILITARY-CORPORATE-INTELLIGENCE COMPLEX spread about one guy? Mr. Hughes can feel them through his pores, and the latest Dx (diagnosis) of Rosacea is not life-threatening, but it could be disfiguring, and it had better stop. 5351 Delmar, Saint Louis, Missouri is where I knew a patient who had it bad, then he went on to be the tillmaster of Social Security income for CIA sociopaths, so of course he called me as a civil commitment investigator and asked that they be locked-up.

I was not assigned that case, as MS. BROWN had me pegged for all "pretty depressed girl," "drugged-out but kindhearted prostitute," "politician's relative," "spouse vs. spouse," "mental iconoclast in the deepest ghetto," and, of course, the "house full of guns" cases. Did I have a newsletter put in front of me about Rosacea? Yes, I did. Mayo Clinic or Harvard Letter? Blond-headed girlie, please check it out. And a week later, I've got a case of it?

Hmmm...the Mayo Clinic cast a 2-1 tie-breaker holding I did not contract Hepatitis C from a CIA whore, so if she really didn't have it passed to her by her previous tennis-playing, presumably wealthy, bisexual boyfriend, maybe we could get together for a non-alcoholic beer or two. Or, is she too busy by now with her duties as a spyin' soccer mom in a DODGE CARAVAN they are not going to make anymore in Fenton, Missouri, or anywhere else.

Should I buy the RAMS and hire a "football man" to run the team? Then, I'd be in position to snipe at the Cuckoo Birds from Cincinnati who dare to own my baseball Cardinals. The St. Louis Blues ownership? Unspeakably bad! And, if I am wrong, why was I sitting right behind KEN WILSON and BERNIE FEDERKO at the game under previous management? So the latest USAF snitch and I could be seen together by many?

Illegal military-affiliated snitches are, in Hughesese, "Goin' to jail!," as are smart assed ARMY & NAVY JAGS. Tim McVeigh's? I think we've got some more coming along to make their debut in the legal system, and if I ever get to you-know-where, I'll arrange to turn them off on Christmas Eve (it's a private joke, son). Ladies and gentlemen of the largest rogue terror state, why do you think I've written a thank-you letter to, of all people, MARTHA STEWART? Seems the trash to treasure queen, as I tend to say, "Knows many things." So, somehow the guy who tossed her in the clink for questionable stock trading got mildly embarrassed over trainloads of whores.

What does this have to do with me? It is a fact that MOTEL 6 housekeepers have nearly trampled me on the way to snatch a strand of the H-man's hair off the sink, and likely sell it to someone for the DNA. Given the state of not-so-secret technologies, I have to wonder if some Hollywood people with too many babies have a few of mine. Legal nightmare? WOODY HARRELSON starred in a "Zombie flick," while I live in a real-life one. Therefore, it is time to go home and rescue the Rams, and don't dare tell me I can't.

In case you are wondering what some of the video will be in the previously described campaign commercial that starts with me at the tippy-tip of the F-15K, some of it will be sports moments I happened to be watching live, like the Rams only Super Bowl victory that came down to the last play and tick of the clock. It's all about clock management, right Mr. Vermeil? On the more unpleasant side, how about my satellite going ZZZZZZit...ZZZZZpop, and then, "I think we've just had an earthquake," said the sportscaster, in that most brutal year of 1989, before they cut away, scared I suppose that the stadium was about to fall down. How many dead in Haiti? Never mind. What time was on my watch for the Hughes boy's only California earthquake thus far? Never mind, 2x. (Sitting outside the METHODIST CHURCH, for the record).

Hey gang, how about "we" go back in time and ask why the NASW Journal "Key Words" for 1985 around the ranch at 420 were "TOWERS" and "WILLOW." Let's tackle "Willow" first. It is the older of two no longer so secret prisons in Alaska, funded in 1973, suspiciously after I had been elected president of something, and ready for me to be abducted and taken there by the time the first of what I have come to call "Vandenberg Crap" lifted-off in about 1983, but it never happened. "They" tried again in 1989, but I beat them again and paid a high, twice near-death price to prevail in what I've termed "The Great Psy-Op of 1988-89." It was the nastiest of all, though not of Marathon Man length like the present one, which is lumbering into an unbelievable sixth year.

Yes, 2012 voters, half of this man's life has been spent in Soldier Boy/Spygirl "psychological operations," wherein "they" act as crazy as loons, commit crimes with good old Central/South American "impunity," then amid CIA/DNI corpses, "blah, blah, blah," like DUDLEY DORIGHT is the one in trouble. Oh yeah? If the boring and difficult to get along with Alaska tour guide was who I think it was, the joke is on you extremists, because the "secret" prison is not for me and my sister, IT IS FOR YOU, DUMBASS. Plus, I think I can get elected and put you there, because unlike the GITMO 14, people are not ready for that kind of bizarre in open federal court. Not yet.

It will be a nice little apartment, with no Waterboarding allowed, because some of what this man's intel community does is so much for ROD SERLING's ghost and not popular consumption, I'm not sure USA and the rest of the world can handle it. How to handle paranormal lawlessness probably depends on what the real General & Admiral Boys tell me when I really get a briefing on the Cuckoo Birds. Want a "legendary" president? Look for a black powder pistol on the wall, and should military types get all defiant and tell me things I do not want to hear, after three years with no doctor, a lifetime with no honorable legal representation, no "security" guy," unless E.T.'s are really running about, and a near-solid year homeless and on the street, when the pistol comes off the wall, you'd better run, and the Secret Service can remain at ease, because I will put a ball-shaped slug in your .mil ass, then send you to Walter Reed, where they will laugh and say, "The President shot you in the butt! Ha, ha!"

TRUMAN - MACARTHUR EVERY DAY is my early campaign promise, because leave it to another defense thinker to realize somebody wants an "Above Interpol" outfit to "disappear" people; he thought it would be "bad guys," and I'm still here to tell you both that this "system" is the 1947 National Security Act system we've already long had in the USA, and "they" can't tell the black hats from white, because like the expression, "One man's freedom fighter is another man's terrorist," these "tracker duds" are high school drop-outs, not the cream of the crop from a long ago CIA Ivy League crew of decidedly bad boys.

MICHAEL TOWERS died too early in March of 1985. Thanks to the French guy who wrecked the clutch on my mighty orange AUDI 100LS, so I couldn't be accused of knocking the poor guy on the head. Over what? DRUGS, DRUGS, DRUGS that I was not using at the time, and never sold. Bad smelling drug intelligence under Reagan's Executive Order 12333 is what was going on around me, and I can remember that catchy E.O. number even after three and a half years of psy-op torture. Why did MITT ROMNEY quit with a lot of delegates in 2008 while I was enjoying a cup of CINNABON coffee at a rest stop off I-95 on the way to a place called Washington, DC? You can't be president unless you wink at illegal drugs or sell them, Maf-IA style? We'll see about that.

Is that sort of shenanigans why PENSKE TRUCK LEASING thinks they can keep my $10,000, now probably more like $11,000 in government bonds, and MELLON/BANK OF NEW YORK wants to go "back to the future" with old HUGHES TOOL COMPANY money squabbles? Howard had the "shorts" for 707 engines? Shame on you, Howard! Are you really going to keep playing FINKEL/FEINSTIEN games with my stock account? Poor planning had the Constellation usurped by jets, but "we" caught up fast with stuff like this, and I shall catch up with thieves as well. (Pardon me, as I am not sufficiently sociopathic to catch-on quick):

"The first flight unit had been literally tested to death. It was worn-out; we were not sure it would hold together through...a landing bounce in the low gravity of the moon. Yet every critical maneuver during the 250,000 mile voyage to the moon was flawlessly carried out. Touchdown was announced by telemetered signals...After a seemingly endless wait of only a few minutes, a picture began to form on a monitor. The camera was initially directed at one leg and foot of the tripod frame. It showed them clearly, with the foot making a couple of inches penetration into the moon dust. The shouting and applause in the audience and the control room released all tension."

That's an account from Mr. Hyland, the guy who really ran Hughes Aircraft while Howard was busy being James Bond. All that I am not, but if you want Howard's imagination and Hyland's business sense, as yet another campaign slogan will go, "Don't let the long hair fool 'ya!" Yes, I am the real Hughes, and I think you are all nuts. Yes, "Two can play that game," as momma used to say. Was ELLIOT SPITZER really going to try and plant my DNA in a "cold-case" Michael Towers evidence bag?

Don't they hate it when I'm on the FAA website? Time is the enemy of a Hughes, so let's make this another two-parter, shall we? HOWARD DEAN will just love my icon of the big blue broom, won't he? Pick on Republicans? Heavens to Betsey, we already know they are no damn good; I'm after those ass-kissers who got my vote every two years from 1976-2006, because in 2008, .mil spooks were so thick in Newbury Park, a suburb of beautiful Thousand Oaks, California, and shucks, all's I had was out-of-state ID, I had to skip the Obama coronation. It was kind of like a Central American/Sub Sahara Africa scene, so if JIMMY CARTER wants to get nosy about elections, he'd best stay home, where the real terrorists are.

Is Hillary In Jail Yet? How About Condi?

When Hughes spends 25 minutes looking for another Thomas Barnett quote, the "invisible staff" is not helpful, consequently, they were not asked, "What is Barnett's doctorate in?" Not prudent to ask, because some Thousand Oaks/Westlake Village moron might allege I'm talking to myself.

Quiet on the set!

"And to do all of these things [and eradicate poverty] we need a military that will wage peace just as effectively as it now wages war. We need a new department that bridges the divide between our current departments of war (Defense) and peace (State)."

Barnett, you should not give a big thinker like Hughes any ideas like that, because I have been thinking about changing the War Department/Defense Department name again. Barnett oh so correctly points out that today's DOD is busy planning future wars and they seem to be almost shocked, and awed, and downright annoyed when their precious budget is "hit" by actual warfighting.

Also keep in mind we have not had a declared war since 1941, so since that time, it has simply been a matter of the POTUS telling Soldier Boy to go kill people and blow things up. He does so effectively, then tries to get himself out, and.....did you say the "q Word," Dr. Barnett? As in quagmire? Yes, he did, and I did not, but if I'm allowed to really run for president, I guarantee I will.

Before the CA lynch mob gets me, please keep these facts in mind: 1) I am every bit as intelligent as Barnett; 2) I am Howard Hughes' only grandson, and therefore, the rightful owner of most of DOD's toy shops; 3) I am running for president. Did I really sleep outside with frost on the ground? Hey Moscow! Hey Beijing! You wouldn't do that to your premier oil & aerospace man, now would you?

No, they would not, so though I froze my butt off last night, I'm still planning on doing good things for the USA, like cutting the Department of Defense budget in half, and making you safer in the bargain. Now, Barnett has added to the scheming, because I see no reason not to "glom" the Department of State on to DOD, increase Foggy Bottom's budget with the spoils of waging peace through cancelled weapons systems, and then we would have my new Department of Peace Maintenance (DOPM), with a Division of Warfighters (DOW) and Division of Peacemakers (DOP). Who would manage today's occupations and insurgencies?

The DOP, dummy, because the homeless candidate has only skimmed Barnett's new "map" for the Pentagon, and really truly carefully read through Page 23, but I am a quick study on things global, and I see where he's going with "A department for what lies between war and peace." I really do have a photo of the "Hughes family of missiles" circa 1979, and I'm "homeless?" Wow! One of them had a little TV camera in the nose 31 years ago? And, I am quite sure I manufactured the CIA's 1970's era relic of an early drone, dragonfly-sized and complete with a camera onboard.

California, go ahead and stay deluded regarding the relevance of our 18th Century legal system to 25th Century technologies, because although I've had pleasant chats with Department of Homeland Security girls, I don't think they are going to heed my recommendation calling for "Haldol Wagons" to inject some antipsychotic medication in your crazy butts. Grandma said more than once, "When the time comes, pull-up the paddywagon," and now I know what she meant.

Number Kooks Gone Wild

Thanks to "Fern" for reminding me that in addition to about a dozen fake medical ailments, I was supposedly operating with an impotent thyroid. Low TSH? Marching from Newbury Park to Westlake Village with more on my back than the average Soldier Boy in Iraq at age 53? No, I will not build you an air-conditioned, infrared goggled, blink & shoot from drones helmet. I say, USA out of the Middle East, before some A-rabs pull-off a real terror event.

"They" all know already, don't they? "Retinal Tap," Big Brother House senior center cams, and good old fashioned humanoid spooks mean ya'll know I've written to Boeing to demand my company back. But first, extremist "they's" are worried I am working through the crash of two EMS helicopters on June 29, 2008 that is not what it appeared to be, and the spy-blooper is so glaring, leave it to the FAA Man to say, "One printer cartridge a quarter! I can't wait until March to print one page!" And, off he went to the library, I suppose, but I will not pay 20 cents a copy, and there are so few photocopiers in this digital file Nirvana, it's like they want paper documents to disappear.

Never mind multiple parties can do that disappearing act, too. Oh, "they" hate the Congressional Research Service documents I downloaded on the China tech two-step that goes back to H.W. Bush as VP. And, that Concorde crash report from the EU version of our FAA they really hate, so---ZZZZZIT---CRACK--BOOM---

Oh my Lord, the computer room has gone dark, but I've quickly pulled out paper clips, chewing gum, a lead car battery literally fell from the sky, and my trusty DC/AC power converter has enabled me to stay on the blogosphere. My bailing wire may not last long, so I'd better hurry-up and say

American Ugly

I thought this movie was horrendous, but that is merely one man's opinion, right MafiaWood?

The Thousand Oaks "Spy Conveyance," in an earlier iteration. Today, they are green & white, and you can ride with confidence after they "switch" the 3 and 4 routes on you. As for the mind control devices on the ceiling, when they turn from black to white, does this mean something? Better check the D.C. subway--quick.

We proved in high school I am not a very good actor, and "straight man" Is not working either, because a twenty year career in the mental health business means you meet a lot of people, so when they start darting past you with a grin on their face in Southern California, having assumed some "other" kind of role, well I cannot help it if I start laughing. "My life is not a spy movie!" I often holler, so if I "blow your cover," do not complain, because when it comes to the thousands of illegal spies who got close to me during the "mental" years of 1991-2007, I would rather put you in jail, because we just do not have an MI-5 like in the United Kingdom.

Wanna rumble? Then it's a firing squad, because a guy with the same name as a fictional FBI 9/11-related hero was maybe right in late 1977 when he said, "You're just like Stalin. Conservative socially and radical politically." "Radical? Shut up, you big asshole," I believe I said way back then, but that was then, and this is now, as maybe, just maybe, the circus wagon is getting underway.

Yes, when the All-American Girl next door feels compelled to name-drop her agent's name, either Mr. Hughes is too close to Westlake Village, California, or someone is really going to raise a modest 40-60 million for a "major motion picture." Agent? I guess someone heard me when I said, "Feel the power of The Loo." I'm no genius, but it has become "code" when people point that thang at me and then say, "We've got a long drive." In the other direction, I am quite sure, they are "on the road," because there surely are a lot of cameras at LAX, right? Right! Plus, extremists of all stripes have probably posted what I call "sentries" at the gates. If TWA were still flying, they would have it made by pitching a tent or New Age-ish pagoda at my airline's gates. Remember the "Moonies"?...never mind.

As it is, the Mossad Man pays a visit by walking in and then out the doors of the senior center. What does that mean? I know there is a LED ZEPPLIN album titled In the Out Door, and come to think of it, the night shift stockers do it at the not-so-safe Safeway, too. I think I know a spy who f---ed JIMMY PAGE, but is that really useful information to anyone besides Senator McCain and/or Governor Palin?

No, it is not, but I can say, again with confidence, one of the best local bands I have ever seen (for free, too) was called JED ZEPPLIN, and they did parody covers of the Zep's songs magnificently. At that time (1979), someone named JANE was trying to have my ass killed, but failed in her tawdry "mission." Later, while working at the bank, when I heard a GRACE SLICK-less JEFFERSON STARSHIP sing, "Jane you're playing a game, but I play for keeps," on the radio by the EDS cubbyhole, I thought it might have something to do with me and my "Jane," but I am not a schizophrenic with "ideas of reference," I'm that Hughes, so "they" left the HUGHES off of HUGHES ELECTRONIC DATA SYSTEMS. You mean I was giving trays of checks to my own computer guy? As Ronald Reagan once said, "The bombing begins in....."

Wow! What "pull" I must have, and that was when I was working with a HILTON, so I am wondering if Paris is going to the KENTUCKY DERBY with me in May, fruit basket hat on head. No? It is the California State Word, and I can say it, too. Want something out of the HUGHES/BOEING/CIA/DOD/DADDY WARBUCKS, INC./SILICON VALLEY/OIL DRILLIN'/8-9 MILLIMETER FILMS, LLC/HUGHES FOR PRESIDENT 2012 Rock of Gibraltar? The answer is, "No!!!"

We're going on a year with no flossing, girls, and I am mighty pissed. Wanna sit in Talkheetna, Alaska for four years? It can be arranged, because you know the MO-MO MONSTER is coming, and how about this commercial, already as good as in jail St. Rita Avenue ARMY JAG? It opens with humble me at the tippy-tip of an F-15K nose antenna, hair down and intact, $2,000 Harry Truman suit on. The script?

"They never let me fly one of these, and I'm not very happy about it. So, I have a message for the USA."

CUT TO:

Oh, I'm quite sure the surviving AC/DC boys back home will give me the rights to "For those about to rock, we salute you" grind, and on the BOOM, I will be able to make some new shells for those "Reagan shelled Lebanon" boats, right? Right! So, go over the water fast, helicopter with the Panavision real live film camera pointed toward the big gun, and then, what do you see? That is between me and the mind-readers, but I can tell you the close of this one requires earplugs for the Hughes boy, as two engines on the other end of the aircraft ignite over my left shoulder and I yell, "I feel all better now!"

The Republican Governor of Minnesota wants to run for president? Who the hell does he think he is?

Mental Note: Do Not Hang-Up on Hotlines

Why did PENSKE TRUCK LEASING, Reading, PA seize (read steal) my whole personal library, including a book that told me a lot about nuclear war DUMB-SAT near-misses, like the one when I lived in Madison, Wisconsin and the regional Soviet nuke officer said, "Nah, I don't think so" with a screen full of incoming? He's a minor hero there, and he ought to be a major one here. Can I grow up to become president and name another Monday Holiday after him? Why not, dumbass? As for the one grandpa maybe caused, because he didn't like rotten Soldier Boys either, not much was written. That means it was real bad, but "good," in my opinion, and that is all that matters, you spyin' twit. No wonder my Fifth Grade nun would not let us build a LASER for science fair.

I have discovered another genetic and operational trait I never knew had anything to do with Hughes Aircraft Company, meaning that the guy who actually ran my company, now known as Boeing, used to hang-up on NASA and insolent Soldier Boys. Yes, in my sorry and lawful life, when the phone occasionally worked in the budget hotel days, and the little Panasonic was spinning with two lively AA batteries, I amassed a "Greatest Hits" collection of either: A) "That's enough, ma'am. Have a nice day [CLICK]; or B) "This call is terminated" [CLICK].

The culprits? BANK OF AMERICA, CHASE BANK, FIFTH THIRD BANK, COMMERCE BANK, SAFECO INSURANCE, PROGRESSIVE INSURANCE, ENTERPRISE LEASING, AT&T, and more. The simple formula? Have the call center humanoid state the policy, walk them through how they violated their own rules, wait until they shuffled the deck, changed the story, contradicted themselves, then I simply referred back to their own policy for the trap jaw to clamp shut, and if they did not hang up on me first, their whining and blabbering motivated me to roll-out "A" or "B" and hang up on them.

I thought I would have talk show audiences rolling in the aisles by now, and go ahead, please ask my all-time favorite. It is the little Indian subcontinent AT&T lady who took--no exaggeration--over twenty minutes to change my address, and she got mighty snippy with me when I interrupted the soft fiber optic hiss to ask if she was finished with a typically 1-2 minute task yet. Yes, Hughes worked the call center gig, too, and never hung-up on anybody.

Conspiracies everywhere! Such as when your AAA Auto Club Dog decided not to pursue a certain introduction to an oppositely sexed person, but then the girl's calls for Alfa Romeo resuscitation were consistently routed to me. No such troubles today, as a 60-ish year-old female hit me over the noggin' recently (with witnesses) when she said, "Bill, the girls aren't around, because you don't have the money."

Thanks, I needed that. So, why not ask early? USA, do you really need a First Lady? I say, "No," but the problem here is, "First Girlfriend" would get far more attention than energy policy or the Middle East for sure, which could be a first step toward redirecting the POTUS-obsessed and actually getting something done. For example, why would HILLARY CLINTON care if the lights are on at 3 a.m., and how could she know if she's in a federal prison? Don't they have "Lights Out," or a similar concept?

I must be of good breeding, because between getting drenched (homeless = no roof over your head--duh), pushing my homeless and in your face shopping cart, and groveling for Liberty Bell postage stamps, I dream of doing as little work as possible with all .gov minions under my command. I told "them" about the drum risers for a big drum set, I am figuring the three-way vacuum tube electronic active crossover/equalizer someone will have to build for me, and the many vinyl LP's that still sound better than anything out there at 33 and one-third r.p.m. will be played LOUD. And, as a bonus, SAMMY HAGAR will never have to drive 55, because I promise to find some more damn oil.

I'm pretty sure AUDIO RESEARCH CORPORATION is still in business, unless Minnesota Lutherans meeting in the church basement have outlawed pricey audio gear. The Oval Office putt-putt green? Gotta have it. And, how about we add a few pinball machines that go DING-DING with 1960's bells, no whistles. Too zany? Oh no, as my fictional spy character Rita says, "Don't start." No way, because I am sure GETTY IMAGES is already looking forward to disseminating an image of visiting Heads of State on the pinball machine.

Boys must have their toys, but unfortunately, some go BOOM and kill people. Congress won't do what I want? Look for my toothbrush to go in the vest pocket, and I'll sleep on The Mall under black plastic. No heaters for the Secret Service; it shall be old-school fires in oil drums. Then, when I get up nice and rested, it will be, "Boys, let's go up to on The Hill." They will see the microphone booms, lights, and cameras coming, as they peer from offices of that "Club" I do not want to join. There will be nowhere to hide, and on the way, we will cut what I'm sure will come to be called the "Daily BLEEP-OUT," as in:

"Who is that son-of-a BLEEP who bottled my bill up in his god-BLEEP committee? Don't those ass-BLEEP know with housing starts still not worth a sh-BLEEP, and people getting out of a four-year college making f-BLEEP-ing minimum wage, those pieces of BLEEP had better get the god-BLEEP s-BLEEP out of their ears and listen to me, because I've got better things to do than look like an idiot for a measly f-BLEEP-ing four hundred grand a year."

It never hurts to dream, and this is another recurring one:

REPORTER: "Mr. Hughes, you are advocating a "rust-down" that is basically nuclear disarmament. As president, would you be willing to use nuclear weapons?"

HUGHES: "Yes. Next question."

REPORTER: "But, but, but, Mr. Hughes, how can you be in favor of near-unilateral disarmament and use of nuclear weapons at the same time?"

HUGHES: "Because some fool might really attack us. Next question."

Everybody's A Star

Right to left we have a stalker I've nicknamed "Rodentia Giganticus," a female I would not mind being introduced to, if 'ya get what I...never mind...and a man who admits visually he's to be left "Holding the bag."

From the Ventura County Star, Onion Edition:

THOUSAND OAKS (AP) -
A homeless man some are speculating may have been a potential Homeland terrorist was found dead early this morning near the intersection of Janss and Highway 23. "We knew a guy was staying near the cloverleaf. Kind of an odd duck, but we initially judged him harmless," said D. Dawson Duhde of the California Highway Patrol. The unidentified man was known only as "William" at the Goebel Senior Adult Center, where he was often seen writing in notebooks and patronizing the computer lab.

"We had no problem with him," said Andrea Koval, Recreation Supervisor at the senior center. However, Ms. Koval added that the deceased was seen out back of the center mumbling and apparently talking to himself. This was noted by the seniors in the billiard room, which faces the rear patio of the center. "Yeah, he'd get out there and holler sometimes," said Jesus "Papa" Giovanni, a regular at the billiard tables.

The unidentified man was said to have had several conversations with a retired North Dakota police officer, however, the officer in question has not been in attendance at Goebel of late, and efforts of several friends to contact him have been unsuccessful. This fact, and vigilance on the part of the Thousand Oaks Police Department, led to contact with the Department of Homeland Security. "We think this is more than a suspicious death," said Chief Jeff Matson of the Thousand Oaks Police.

Department of Homeland Security spokesperson Pamela Bing reported an investigation is underway, but was sparse with details. "The subject entered the State of California in May of 2008, and was involved in activities that made him a person of interest. The investigation is ongoing, and there will be no further comment from the Department," she said. A dissenting view was offered by American Civil Liberties Union Vice President Patrick Changrang, who said, "Waterlogged notebooks and inexplicable motivation are not sufficient to launch a major investigation. We believe Homeland has gone off half-cocked."

Lisa Sigmund, a Marriage and Family Therapist at Ventura County Behavioral Health, seemed to agree with the possibility of excessive zeal on the part of authorities, saying, "Talking to one's self is not necessarily indicative of a mental disorder. Many of our homeless population, even in an affluent area, are under great stress, as with living in camps, cars, or in the wild. This individual was probably merely lonely and estranged from his family."

Probing further among the Ventura County homeless population, the Star determined the deceased man was a participant in the Lutheran Social Services homeless program last winter, where he was often seen working on a laptop computer, however, Chief Matson said no computer had been recovered. "Possibly someone stole it before we recovered the body," he said.

Adding to the speculation, Ventura County Sheriff Bob Brooks said his department had interaction with the subject of the Homeland investigation when deputies responded to a call at McDonald's. "The subject was upset about the Columbia Space Shuttle disaster, and muttering curse words, so we surmised he had an interest in aerospace," said Brooks.

Also contributing to the gathering mystery is Brooks' report that a computer glitch destroyed data on the unidentified man's contact with the Sheriff's Department. "It's the darndest thing," said Brooks. "We wanted to assist, but there's a six and a half gigabyte hole in our hard drive." Therefore, the responding deputy, Lucinda Williamsburg, is unable to be of much help, and of the McDonald's contact said, "Unfortunately, I don't remember his last name, so we too at the Department know him only as 'William'."

Rod Readyruff, a terror expert at the Heritage Foundation, was quick to point out such anomalies, soggy notebooks, uncertain motivation, and a missing laptop, could be a formula for domestic terror. "We're tracking hundreds of cases like this," said Readyruff. Why add an airliner, and we could have another nine-eleven."

Local clergy seem to view the controversy more as just another indicator of deteriorating social services under the state budget's knife. "Be it wannabe terrorists or timid homeless people sleeping in refrigerator boxes, we have a terrible problem here," said Father Dingell Darnell of St. Paschal Bayon. "I encourage all citizens of Thousand Oaks to do more to help the disadvantaged during this most challenging time of serious economic downturn." Father Darnell noted there will be a memorial service for "William" next Tuesday night at 8 p.m.

Con Job Carter

May we begin to examine some rather dramatic "coincidences?" Here's just one:

FACT: In my first screenplay, The Rainbow Rebellion, begun in 1998, completed in 2002, there is a scene set in a "skunkworks," where several aircraft are floating around, thanks to anti-grav devices from a "reverse-engineered" UFO.

"COINCIDENCE": I have seen two real UFO's since migrating to wild & wooly California. The first I reported to three organizations that investigate such matters, and I posted the report on AbolishTheCIA.org. Since that time, every pedal-to-the-metal cuckoo I call an "E.T.-Chaser" has gone nuts. So did the official E.T.-Chasers at the USAF, because they ran to their radar, and they got on my own satellites, to make the same observation as I did in Kettleman City, CA--12,000 m.p.h. is pretty damn fast, isn't it? Now, if I ever make it to the White House to install what many Stereophile magazine readers call an audio "he man rig" in the Oval Office, along with my putt-putt green, there will be no more United States Air Force, and I just can't wait to call NASA and say the same thing they did after the Columbia burned up, that being, with a little post-electoral flourish, "This is the President. Lock the doors." And that, my friends, will be the end of our Nazis disguised as spacefarers non-space program. Investigating vaccines in space? Who do you think you are you kidding, Skylab debris brain?

As for the second sighting, it even caused concern in the pea brain of your supposed Ambassador Sarek and Democrat candidate for president, but remain calm, and if you think I'm writing a report up on that one, as I often tell all fair citizens of Thousand Oaks/Westlake, "You're all crazy, and I'm not!

Why all of the surveillance?

"Psy-opped" since 1974.

Residence "wired" since at least 1978.

Person "wired" since 1987.

Auto "bugged" since 1990.

Current "psy-op" length: Since late 2004.

Tortured since June, 2006.

Homeless since February, 2009.

Ready, Howard Dean? "It's Roswell, stupid!"

These are facts going to courts of law, and you, whoever you are, cannot stop it. William Charles Hughes is running for president in 2012, because it is just about the only thing the "they" of military thugs, mafia shooters, civilian spy-killers, and deefense industry rodents can't stop. Sorry, Maxwell Smart, I have worked very hard and been fired for no reason too often, gone out the door on layoff, had girlies manipulating my life, and now, my oil exploration company with 1,604 rigs has taken on a subsidiary called "B.J. SERVICES," and I shall leave the joke that is unquestionably there to Letterman, Leno, O’Brian, Fallon, Ferguson, et al. (Sorry fellows, no time to check the latest oil well count on e-mail, and no way to print anything with a perpetually broken Maf-IA Center printer. Screenplay? What screenplay? What are you talking about?)

Do you people know the following?

I knew there were always "narcs" next door, but that is not why I never sold drugs.

I heard the satellite "bounce" when spygirls were supposed to be in Texas, but were instead in some god-forsaken Central American place trying to blame OLLIE NORTH'S cocaine shipments on me.

I knew it was odd when a man in a room full of battle flags talked to me for way too long, and on the next visit asked, "What do you think of PRESIDENT CARTER?" For the record, I defended his change in nuclear warfighting strategy under withering attack from Dutch anarchists, French leftists, and Spanish virus-passers. Neutron Bomb? "Not a good idea, but we'll damn well stock 'em if we want 'em, and why don't you take a shower more often, sir?" I recall saying to the pre-EU Europeans. Did I almost die in the Spain where there's no rain? What's a little 105 fever to a Hughes? Just a delay in the sightseeing. Now, they've got the "Vampire Stake" out in Thousand Oaks, just like New Hampshire, but you know how I figure this? There's a lot more electoral votes out here, dummy! (No offense to NH). And, I may just have two Cheney's to your none.

Back to 1977, I oddly did not think it strange when I knocked on the door of ABBEY ROAD STUDIOS, a man answered, let me in, gave me a tour, and said, "There is the piano John Lennon played when the Beatles made their records." Was I that dumb? No, I was 21 years-old, and just thought they were being nice. When I later told my "black op" London host with the most I had determined: A) The famous album cover photo is not on Abbey Road; and B) That I had found the corner where they took the photo, he smiled and said, "That figures."

I get similar comments a lot, because I am the only grandson of HOWARD ROBARD HUGHES, JR., and all spies, foreign and domestic, can gyrate, use gang signs, belch, fart, tap the mouse with no mousepad in code, signal with old U.S. Navy spotlights, light off fireworks, or even empty AK-47's in the night, but as long as there is also someone to say, "William, they were breathing down my neck," and I have a fair idea of who "they" were/are, "we" can sit "it" out until a rapidly approaching doomsday.

Hillary, what does "it" mean? Among other things, it means when I name a State Department character "BURT" in a screenplay titled Ask Not, I get an alias of "Burt" at a local church in league with drug dealers. A guy I nicknamed "The Navy Bolshevik" said it well when he said, "You know, I've come to this place a few times to get help, but they always start talking about something else." This is an elegant way to say, once translated, "The Churchlady be worthless, and she's spyin' on you." We won't discuss the church-people's BERMUDA TRIANGLE today, or GEORGE W. BUSH'S great faith in "faith-based" fleecing, because these are issues to be addressed when law & order returns to the big version of Haiti, as in the USA. Who's helping who, I almost wonder, regarding earthquakes that are screeech.....you know where I'm going with this, don't you, Nazis? Negroes in New Orleans? Negroes in Haiti? What you got up there in geostationary orbit? Hughes just knows, like great-grandpa knew where the oil was.

First, can I obtain--by RMN hook or crook--an updated version of Final Draft® screenwriting software, because it is pouring rain, and I've been getting way too much sleep, so now, in addition to telling the International Association of Machinists I will pay their relocation expenses to the EU, if they desire to keep a job in the "global economy," I'd like to add the following lines to The Rainbow Rebellion, if I may:

AIRBASE GUARD: I am the Eggman.

PETE: What the fuck?

WENDY: Just go. Go!

Why did my own former spouse report spying on Mr. John Lennon in Central Park?

Why did I unknowingly buy dinner for the social worker who located "Killer Nerd" chump MARK DAVID CHAPMAN?

Why did someone have sexual intercourse with Mr. Lennon at a scandalously young age, and have the nerve to tell me about it?

Did Mr. Lennon die because BILL CASEY got cocky during the "Transition Period," or is PRESIDENT CARTER going to deny his apparent involvement? Gosh, and I thought STANSFIELD TURNER was a bit better than all that. Zapped with microwave energy during the "trans period" 2008-2009? You bet, so perhaps I should review those special White House vicinity protesting rules, or did the great liberal Obama rescind them? Hey Neil Young, a near-Southern man doesn't need you around, anyhow, but I did meet someone who said she rode down the canyon with you quite blasted, and I am the Hughes, so I believed her. Yes, your native land of Canada told me, with, in addition to the one who spoke the words, four rather official witnesses, "Now, don't go buying up Canada."

Did Dave's Top Ten List really say on CBS I was campaigning in the wrong country last time? I shall correct my error by 2012, because as an old client of mine who owns a business journal used to say, "They don't like me too much" up there, maybe because I'm not liberal enough. And speaking of Late Night, did Paul Schaffer really have a pile of paper on his keyboard the same size as my Gangster Nation manuscript, a photo of which I posted on Soldier Boy's Internet, then JULIA ROBERTS asked what he was reading? What does Ms. Roberts' husband really do for a living? Never mind. May I make a movie, too? Please?

You are not Hughes, you are JONES, or HERZOG, or CLINTON, or CARTER, and I am way fed up with this crap. How is the Negro in Chief's day going? My issues are keeping my socks and screenplays dry, and I am not talking any motherf---ing "spy code." Could someone/anyone who thinks there is a law worth enforcing besides the one I have not broken yet please arrest Carter in the front pew, then move on to the Bush 41 Gang? Thank you.

In the meantime, I shall try to not be provoked by .mil spooks and Mafia into a justifiable homicide someone will call something else. Is the spy-runnin' Sheriff in his own county jail yet? When do I get to sell-off Boeing commercial jetliners and get down to business, like being rich, arrogant, selfish, and saving the last F-15 for me? Just kidding, about the selfish & arrogant bit, but thought I'd ask a few questions, while I fail to go out on a date with LINDSEY LOHAN.

Palin Trash

Maf-IA spies may say they are from Venus, but I just don't have time to ring them up for 72 hours of detention and treatment. Ready for the big speech in Culver City? Judging from mindless Palin blather and Osama Obama muttleheadedness, maybe not. Given all the resistance, I guess I'll eat granola bars endorsed by the PGA and stay on "welfare" in Trash City. Golf? Movies? Aerospace? Sorry, no time for that when all ex-presidents belong in prison.

Sarah knows everything, so she probably knows SILVER PLATTER was the name of a social science data engine I somehow used for free to write my first book, when I think you are supposed to pay. As with the AAA Auto Club membership, which auto-renewed somehow, (and don't ask me how), there will be no "Silver Plattergate." And, if there is, I will plead nolo contendre, like SPIRO AGNEW, another trash-talkin' Republican gubernatorial crook.

Governor Palin, who did the FBI talk to in Saint Louis, Missouri? You, or me? "Troopergate?" Out here, they tell me MARIA SHRIVER drives as she pleases, and I said, "This is to be expected," but I'm rocking the boat? Now, I am going to start doing just that. What? You thought AbolishTheCIA.org was rocking? Naw, that wasn't anything, and now that a guy they call "Frank" gave me some big boots, maybe I will crush some little image-taking devices under my heel.

Go ahead and call the policeman, as he is surely as sick of you cuckoo extremists as I am. During my formative years in the 1960's, we'd say, "You started it," and that is the case with unauthorized images, illegal audio recordings, stalking, mumbled threats, and this a.m., the PIT BULL has arrived. Just like Clayton, Missouri, in Thousand Oaks, California, (a nice place to raise AMGEN demon children), pit bulls are the icon of drug dealing, but not to worry, as I have agreed not to sleep near the drug mule bike trail that supplies points north. (And, I received a small gratuity for agreeing to stay away, which was reported to the Federal Election Commission, because you all know I'm running for president).

Sarah, I talked to the FBI in Saint Louis, too. It was on July 31, 2006 to be exact, and the topic was--SHAZAM--a murder I later concluded was faked. How did I come to this conclusion? "The Bureau" did nothing about it on the record, anyway, but started spy, spy, spying on me, in addition to all of the deefense contractor spies, "Dark Side" spies, agents of a foreign power spies, Maf-IA spies, DIA "waterboys," the NSA male ponytail division, and even the Langley girls sat on park benches in Washington D.C. like they thought this is some kind of damn movie. No girls, this is my sorry life, and "they" won't let me make fictional spygirl "Rita Rattinger" into a franchise, although I did offer my Hollywood helper 10% on everything, including the inevitable Rita action figure doll and video game.

Fake murders? Fake funerals? Welcome to the CIA--Blue Suede Shoes Division. Yes, maybe all of my "news" during 2005-2007 was phished by BRICK NETWORK, I-NET, and that rascal Soldier Boy, but I was smart enough to fire COMCAST, which I had affectionately come to call "Commiecast," when my MCAFEE firewall let me know another me had logged-on to Al Gore's Internet in the state of FLORIDA. What the hell kind of a name is "Jeb," anyway? And, why did then-Prime Minister TONY BLAIR's commercial flight happen to skid off the runway in FT. LAUDERDALE and make the Soldier Boy e-news pages. You ain't so sneaky, Tony.

Why does, as my own sister said, the whole world revolve around poor William? Maybe the occupants of our Deefense Pentagon have eggbeaters on their faces over yours truly and the fact clues + genes = 9/11 busted wide open on September 2, 2004, to once again be exact. But, what happened in November, 2004? Are enough of CSN&Y still alive to sing, "Big rig-job in Ohio?"

It's a joke, son, but Hughes has learned not to complain to spygirls, and absolutely do not pantomime to a spygirl like you are the Secret Service agent who could not get his weapon out and at least point it in the general direction of JOHN HINCKLEY. Further, do not dare create a character for HUGHES SCREENPLAY #8 where it supposedly is the guy who could not get his Uzi out working as a bodyguard for a senate candidate. Don't do this, and don't try it at home, because you want to have rights, or at least think you do in the totalitarian state, right?

Right Sarah! Yes, Palin knows all, and has probably already reviewed the security cam video from RALPH'S, showing Hughes reading her book near the dairy case and cursing (again) over the absence of an Index. This requires the "skim & hunt" method for noting the former governor's thugs and provocateurs. What's the point of a big Alaskan oil spill in 1989 when I'm supposedly nuts? Don't you all know I was merely enjoying something the USAF knows is bad, that being four days with no sleep, thanks to intel agency designer meth.

Mafia! Mafia! This I often cry, but I don't think they were in on all of that. More recently, "we" proved outside Portsmouth, New Hampshire that a gov'ment CHEVROLET IMPALA cannot be caught by a 2.0 L four-banger in the FORD FOCUS. Later, when Hughes discovered the Ford Nazis standard tires are Chinese at probably $1 a pop, then he was scared and amazed they did not explode in pursuit of the GM mark of excellence. Yet the spookies took care of me by suspiciously sending a JD POWER tire survey very shortly after this high speed chase, but I'll deny everything, because ROBERT MUELLER sure will. Right Bob?

The "Ruby Ridge Protocol" is real, both the "far right" and "far left" know well, so I have three questions:

1. Why does the far right get away with hiring the far left for the USA's "dirty work?"

2. Why isn't FBI Director Robert Mueller in jail?

3. Why isn't Sarah Palin under investigation for what Hughes terms a status of "jail-worthy?"

Not jail-worthy? Would you like to see my Internet "pings" from Wasilla, AK? So, you stole my truck, eh? Does Governor Polar Bear Dung and all chilly skinhead white trash denizens basking in crack pipe smoke under the Aurora Borealis seethe in jealousy over the apparent fact grandpa had someone else run Hughes Aircraft, because he was JAMES BOND, and it sure looks like I am the BOURNE franchise, leading me to taunt the local spooks by bellowing, "I can do it too, and I can do it way better than you!"

Do they make movies about Sarah? Do Space Shuttle pilots crab about her? Do they crab about me? I think they do, or I would not have heard my first sonic boom awhile back--the first one since F-4 Phantoms were new. And, when the BOOM knocked me off my homeless trillionaire park bench, I did in fact holler, but no peace officers responded. It's kind of like, "If a tree falls in the woods," isn' it?

Hey, they outlawed sonic booms, and spying is illegal, too. Does Sarah know that? Does her thuggy husband know that? Golly, Sarah, there may be hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of spyin' transponders aboard my birds, but you can tell Hillary that if the eminently sane North Korea man shoots at them, I just don't care, because somebody with a spyin' pea brain stole my stuff, Romaine files it ain't, and I've been unquestionably tortured shitless in the United States of America for three and a half years.

Cheating on hubby, lying, spying, smearing, disrespecting the old man McCain, and supporting low-IQ white people who probably are high on meth and awaiting the great Christian conflagration when Jesus comes down on a cloud. Hey bitch, I'm Catholic, like JFK, so let's do the grenade-tossing on equal terms, where I might sometimes agree with BILL RILEY or LOU DOBBS, then you can start wearing diapers, like NASA spyonaut girls on a road trip.

Let's quit f---ing around, girl. I was raised middle-class, but I know megalomaniac trailer trash when I see it. Who's got it goin' on from the park bench as Irish naval genes increasingly override the Hughes DNA?

ISRAEL--EGYPT

INDIA--PAKISTAN

RUSSIA--CHINA (Taiwan, too)

IRELAND--NORTHERN IRELAND

SAUDI ARABIA--UAE

VIETNAM--THAILAND

PHILIPPINE'S--MALAYSIA

COLUMBIA--ECUADOR--BOLIVIA--VENEZUELA

ARGENTINA--CHILE

MEXICO--GUATEMALA--HONDURAS

Sarah, the Red Sea already parts, but it's a DOLLAR TREE or RALPH'S cart right now. Add the cool white jet, Harry S. Truman Key West type suit, and as Ronnie once said, "I'm paying for this microphone," and what will happen? Governor Palin, you shall be toast, and so will many dirty, cash-seeking, FISA snoopin', low-down Democrats who I was silly enough to vote for since 1976.

Who's the president? I have no idea, but I think they finally put a negro in there.

Car Wars

Did JACK CLARK really say that about MARK MCGUIRE? Goodness gracious, how "frank" we are getting all of a sudden in the USA. Maybe Clark heard about how for a solid week, when I wanted to call up JIM EDMONDS name, I got JACK CLARK'S face in my poor little neuron-crossed from Earth orbit brain. Cardinal Nation, be outraged. Very outraged.

Two VIN Numbers, no car, and the ever-vigilant policeman certainly knows where the black one is, but he won't tell me, whereas my white car, as cool as the "Internationally Accredited" police force may be, will not be brought out here in the Wild West to me, unless I amass some scratch. Will someone please make me a bumper-sticker that says, "MY OTHER CAR IS AN F-15E"? Thanks.

Sports fans, my feet are feeling much better, the rich guy who promised a big cart had better bring one with mag wheels, and then I might use it to make glorious return to the AGOURA ROAD STARBUCKS, where rich guys bragged of their fancy aircraft as I sat there in my "Psychotic Gorton's Fisherman" yellow raincoat. Plus, "we" will return to the Home Depot. Why? To wade through the sawdust spies, construct a simple device I shall patent, and advertise it is for something else.

What? You think I'm nuts? Don't sic the FTC on me like "they" put the FDA on L. Ron Hubbard. Me? A temporary supporter of Scientology? I used to dislike Scientologists a lot because of their wrong-headed views on mental health issues, but hey, they've got a lot of money, as compared to this trillionaire who has bank troubles going all the way back to the Hughes Tool Company/Mellon Bank scuffle. Who's holding my money hostage?

Ah, some of it is Mellon out of Pittsburgh, and now through dirty acquisition, Hughes struggles with the Bank of New York phone # & PIN # of the week. What fond memories I have of "Rod" and his 1986 Pittsburgh house full of spygirls. Seems the girls rebelled against that meth-passing Rod, and I did not even go out to the movies with said girls, as I was coming down from a "test dose" of CIA designer methamphetamine that was used to full effect a few years later.

[Since writing this piece, "we" find the REAGAN ADMINISTRATION approved three of my satellites going to China in 1989, the H.W. BUSH ADMINISTRATION did the "shocked, shocked" routine over Tiananmen Square unpleasantness, delayed the festivities a bit, then promptly approved the technology transfer. Clinton? 1996-2000 Clinton? Let's don't go there--yet. And, let's don't detail what went on in my life during 1989--not quite yet].

Can't you all wait to see my WHEATON VAN LINES full of "coincidences" from the past few decades? Hughes does not spy, but observant he is, and he reads the material put out for him by the Old Watergate Spooks. Did you have to tell me a CONTINENTAL AIRLINES plane dropped a piece of metal that "retired" the supersonic CONCORDE in a ball of flame?

My, my. "We" will someday ask, in a court of law, "Mr. Hughes, how did you feel upon seeing the front page of the USA Today with a flaming Concorde jet on it?" I won't fib under oath, but maybe competent legal counsel I've been denied over ten times in liberal fascist USA will advise me not to tell anyone about the "trance," where I'm in the left side Air France seat, doing exactly what I was trained to do.

He/I'm turning the plane around...looking out the window...there's the airport...there's the runway...stay away from the homes...got it going on...turn-off those fucking alarms!...oh shit, this is not good...but we're level...how bad's the fire?...that bad...aw fuck...got airspeed...a few hundred feet...c'mon, honey.....BOOM. We're all dead.

Did the French court drop that case? What did Continental drop? I'm thinking maybe something like the state policeman puts out on the highway with ugly spikes to stop bad guys. If there is anything I'm sick of, after nailing you, "Gee, we'll put a hole in our own building as cover" Soldier Boys, it is reading about our mini-Homeland terror war that took place before 9/11, and it still happened. Would anyone have paid attention if the "depressed" Florissant, Missouri deefense contractor housewife had snitched to me in early 2001? You don't really want to be me, now do you? If you want that much power & money, you are indeed insane, not me.