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:


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

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