6.30.2010

Torture Under The Negro



As the ex-brother in law used to say, "False hope."


They want to know everything about Mr. Hughes, and even a skilled mentor cannot figure out who "they" are. So, I will continue giving out information, because I have nothing to hide, and asking few questions. Yesterday, a nifty article about Voltaire's Candide was put before me [Sarah, I got briefers!]. So, I'll give you a ranking of my favorite big-time political philosophers. And, thanks to the unorthodox "briefing book," I finally "get it" regarding Candide.



Voltaire spent his whole career on writing nonfiction political reasoning, then wrote a weird novel that, "...suggests some things cannot be understood, and that the search for universal truth is futile." I think he was pulling some French legs, and lived long enough to joke about it with USA's Ben Franklin, yet was banished by the French government. This much I knew, but as with a lot of stuff lately, now I know why. Okay, with apologies to DICK CHENEY, here's the HUGHES TOP 5 POLITICAL PHILOSOPHER LIST:



1. Rousseau

2. Locke

3. Voltaire

4. Marx

5. Hobbes

6. Smith


He can't count! Put him in the loony bin! There's six philosophers, so he's ridin' with flyin' saucers! Marx is ahead of Adam Smith, so he's a communist, like Howard! No, numbnuts, but Cheney would, from what I've read, put Hobbes higher on the list. Me? Genius? Howard Hughes paid the Three Stooges' salaries, and the gag was to look over your shoulder when someone alleged you are brave, handsome, or a genius.



Was I looking in a "crazy window" reflection this morning and marveling at my furrowed HH brow, HH eyes, and nose just like the "other" William who has apparently, per Ralph's check-out aisle tabloids, impregnated his girlfriend. I'm not in London yet, but I say, this looks bad for royals. And, if a female ever has mercy on me once more, I'd do that part, but not embarrass anyone. Oh, I'm getting old, and I'm stuck in the USA's most fruitcake state of our disintegrating Union.



Not my problem, as a certain person said to me more than once. That's okay, but you cannot keep saying it to I.G.'s [for the non-gov'ment types & drugselling idiots, that means Inspector General, and believe it or not, the CIA and DOD have them]. On to the main topic, which is that since 2002, the year after a big event was staged four days prior to my birthday, I have been.....no polite way to say it: TORTURED REALLY BAD, LIKE IF I HAD NOT BEEN A "PSY-OP" VICTIM SINCE 1974, I WOULD BE:



A. In a Loony Bin ("Institutionalized")

B. Sitting in Prison (Because I had killed your ass, Soldier Boy)

C. Very Dead (We do not come back, do we? Consult your local Rabbi, Priest, Minister, Ayatollah, or Yogi on this, because I do not know).



Torture details? Let's be brief:




1. HEADACHES



2. GASTROINTESTINAL TROUBLE



3. HEART TROUBLE: a) Arrhythmia; b) Near MI (no soldier, I mean "Myocardial Infarction," not "Military Intelligence," which I am now convinced really is an oxymoron, and you Pentagon types, all the way up to Chairman of the Joint Chiefs Admiral Mullen, who's head I want on a platter, are morons) .



4. POISONINGS: a) "Heart Attack Drug," as follows; i) Blood Pressure Spike Method; ii) Capillary Constriction Method; iii) Rhythm Disrupting Method. b) Nasty Gastrointestinal Viruses; c) Kidney Infections; d) Rashes, growths, etc.; e) Dizziness i.e. The "Mickey."



5. VOMITING


6. INNER EAR ATTACKS


7. TESTICULAR DISCOMFORT


8. EYEBALL ATTACKS: a) Painful Eyeballs; b) Itching/Burning Eyes; c) Blurred Vision


9. WHOLE BODY PAIN


10. ROSACEA



Regarding #7 & #8, have you .mil dropouts heard of gravity?All that you have to do is alter gravitational fields, and boys, what are the most vulnerable (soft) parts of your body? Your EYES and TESTICLES. Two administrations have been running some torture on U.S. Persons in the USA: G.W. Bush (R) and Obama (D). I am not "crazy," I am not wrong, and most of California knows it, because the space-based torture platforms were constructed and launched here in the early to mid 1980's, were partially operational by 1989, fully operational by 1994, and not used on me until 2002, when I hollered, "Why go into Iraq? Ya' need more troops in Afghanistan!"



I hate being right, and may get stuck serving as president myself someday as a consequence of all the "correctness." Digital 6411 Alamo librarians, you know I said it [BTW, is BOB RYERSON'S son in jail yet? And, I confess to being a regular ONION HORTON listener as well...but hey, that wasn't against the law, was it?]



Yes, my doctor knows damn well I had Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) as yet another "fake" Hughes diagnosis. People, you absolutely, positively, cannot be "successful" at being flat-out homeless and on the street for nearly 18 months and have any of the following:



1. Bipolar Disorder

2. Hypothyroidism

3. Irritable Bowel Syndrome

4. Hepatitis C



But, you can be tortured by the President of the United States and entire U.S. Government. Watergate Spooks, do I have to put the "Central Intake" story on the "Worldwide Web?" It is a story of how the current president tried to kill me, more than once, and I'd much rather it be a court filing, if you all don't mind.



Drama! Drama! As we chided each other in high school, "Too much drama!" Did you know I was BANG-CRASH-TINKLE president of the Redman Road establishment? You can't change it, although somebody probably stole that gold nameplate off the wall because it said, "William Hughes, comma, President" on it. We can't ever have that again, right! Wrong! You ass----s! How about three recorders, all analog, one inch tape, going all day, because you f---ing worthless spies will not come in, lie to me, and then change the story.



Transcripts? The media will get them every day, with all of the cursing, and if I want to curse at a press conference, Cuckoo Christians at the networks will just have to BLEEP it out. Nixon cursed? Ain't never been in the Navy, so I wasn't a sailor, but you've never heard anything like it, if it happens, given just about all of my talents have been heretofore wasted. You don't like me? As momma (who you murdered) would say, "They can dish it out, but they just can't take it."



It is "Obama Drama," I allege. Sir, you are "Holding the bag," and I did not do it to you, nor did I do anything unlawful, yet I have been forced to live like a fugitive. I await your departure, well ahead of schedule.

6.29.2010

Whew! Can You Get Any More Inhuman?

Hey, AIRBUS INDUSTRIES, I thought what I call the "Mike Meyers Movie Emergency Alarm" was sounding at the Central Intelligence Agency when I researched how helicopters fly, given Howard Hughes gave us the Apache, but how about watching "close call" videos from an Airbus 300 flight deck? Oh, I'm sure Pentagon types had their tidy white boxers & briefs twisted, as the USAF girlfriend looked stunned, and was probably thinking, "Damn! He's so close to figuring it out."

Yes, I finally did, and for all spies in the sky, terra firma, or on ships at sea, please now know cockpit video of rockin' & rollin' down a mountain range toward a rather skinny runway fighting, as my TWA cowpoke pilot put it, "Really bad wind shear," was played more than once. What I liked was the talking computer, and the sound of the airframe, plus anything that wasn't tied-down rattling. On went the lil' headphones, so I could hear what the flight crew was doing, and oh Lord, they were not talking. Why land under those conditions? Don't know; a dry fuel tank, perhaps.

Back & forth they rocked, with like, uh, mountains on either side, until the blessed WHUMP of one set of wheels was heard, which suited the pilot just fine for awhile, then a WHUMP from the other side, and when the nose gear finally WHUMPED down, all that was heard was: Whew! That got my attention, Cuckoo-Bird E.T.-chasin' Air Force, because I never got to do that.

And now, I don't want to do that, but the Tabby Cat and I are not getting out of any Mars lander, because, to paraphrase what a character said on the mind control screen, thanks to big jerks at Paramount, "Let's see what's up there," for sure, but I'd like to make it back before selling Martian condos.

Do an EVA by myself? What? Do you think I'm nuts?

This isn't torture? Our 20th century courts are open M-F, generally 8-4:30. See 'ya there!

p

Hey ART BELL, looks like USAF is all "done" with their cuckoo contrails & flyin' triangles. Did they make me watch K-Pax? Yes, they did. Are the DARPA Boys in jail yet? Not yet?

Doomsday FOIA

They blew how many tires in Vietnam on 11.20.2006? Six? And, Georgie-Porgie, what was the "Doomsday Plane" doing there? Auto-brake left on? These things happen, right Cuckoo-Bird USAF? Did "Uncle Ho" have some ho's like...never mind.

I'll be the first to admit hollering, "Bush! War criminal!" and "Obama! Big crack dealer!" is not terribly productive, but I try to do it only where horses can hear me, as the man who tends the horses long ago gave me a $5 bill and uttered another of Thousand Thieves' favorite lines: "Get out of here, and don't come back."


I can say that from the big chair too, someday, and if you don't think so, consider this. The last U.S. President who was not, as I like to say, "Doin' some spyin'" was Gerald Ford, who found himself stuck with the job because Howard Hughes (yes, he was my grandpa, 'ya big dick) kicked Nixon's butt out. The erasures of tape? No mystery at all, really. It was Nixon himself on the ERASE button, and it was all about Howard--the erasure, not Watergate.

Give the "plumbers" a million bucks and then turn them in? I could do that, which might explain why I sleep under trees. It's a bit like the sign that tells all potential stickup men the clerk cannot open the safe. Did I really get a response from the Bush White House about COG exercises in 2006? Or, was it 2007? A big FedEx envelope it was, but I did not open it in anticipation of hiring a...what? Lawyer?

What's that? And, who needs 'em? What did Shakespeare say? Cause bodily harm to lawyers and create potential tort claims? Never! Why bother, when "they" know my lawyer categories: A) MAFIA LAWYERS, who pick every nit to skirt the law, and seek to put their enemies in the County Jail for jaywalking. I'm not making progress? Per the Kansas City Star, policemen are cracking down on jaywalking in KC, but how about that big crook Claire McCaskill (D-MO)? Lordy, if I get my capital, there will be no more Democrats walking free, and I've voted for the bastards since 1976! And, how about my: B) GULFSTREAM JET-CHASING LAWYERS, who are those guys & gals who look like fashion ads when they run to the SEC and shuffle my capital. I think they are now worried I might figure out who is trying to, "Take over the world" in the course of my duties as unofficial DNI.

A quick look at Hughes' Mayor of Gotham City resume finds a "central" question, and it is:

Q: Why did the gov'ment, through a multitude of spooky proxies, ask me many times if I would like to, "Overthrow the United States Government?"
A: They know full well how rotten they are, and don't give me any ideas, fellahs, if 'ya get what I mean.

Now I know White House love notes via FedEx morphed into connections at Kinko's, which is far better than putting up with that rowdy FedEx negro who worked for them in Memphis prior to making a mental patient career out of threatening to kill me every other day. Is that why LORI HARTLEY put a security guard in front of the Dielman Industrial Court office? Smoking cigs by the picnic table and conducting stare-downs with CHARTER CABLE, were you? Good thing I did not smoke at work, but I may have endangered the health of some spies by mentioning Charter's large stable of satellite dishes that all said HUGHES on them. Does my big MO Driver's License say that? Sure does.

No? [could the e-Mafia quit making a small case "o" large case? Thanks.] Excuse me, my name is really "Shickelgruber." (That's a 1970's joke, son). What are you loonies doing out here in California, anyway? Can I appear on a talk show? Here's a sure-fire laugh line: "All of America's kooks & crazies fled west, until they ran into the Pacific Ocean, then they dropped their "stuff," and that's how we got...CALIFORNIA!" Jesus! Do they do anything here like the other 49 states? Pass the bong, please.

6.28.2010

Earthquake!!!

Got devices? What's the name of that fault? Not my fault, right Langley?

Do you ever read print ad copy in the USA, and not understand what they're getting at? This is a clue you are:

A) Maybe in the wrong country; or
B) Descended from the guy who failed to send enough troops in 1775.

It's all about sending enough troops, right Karzai? Has he joined the Taliban yet? Not yet?

We go to the lies in our media, and then some guy telling the truth who graduated from Colby College up in Maine. Ah, they love me up there, and this proves once more a four-year liberal arts degree is not a total waste, although these days, you'll be working at STAPLES for minimum wage, and living with Mom & Pop for a very long time. Too long, in my humble opinion, and this provides motivation (MO) to run for president under some under rather adverse circumstances, like being half-dead, because California climate and Left Coast kooks really suck.

Now, let's go to the mass media lies. Topic: Earthquake In Haiti:

"Entire shantytowns were destroyed by the 7.0 quake, the strongest to hit the area in at least two centuries. Witnesses described seeing buildings crumble in Port-au-Prince, where people covered in dust and blood were crawling out of the debris wailing. Corpses were being piled up in the streets, with expressions of shock frozen on their faces...The Roman Catholic Archbishop of Port-au-Prince was among the dead, and the head of the U.N. peacekeeping mission was missing."

- "Sir Harold Evans?" Who's that?

"Just came back Saturday...from working...near the epicenter of the quake. It was my first experience in a place so impoverished. There was little water access, no police presence, and little infrastructure. The people were dignified, polite, beautiful, and appreciative. They have amazing fortitude and resiliency, but they need a lot of help from others and some devine intervention to get through this."

- Dan Driscoll, Colby College (Class of 1978)

Floods in Rhode Island? Tornadoes in New Hampshire? Hurricane after hurricane barreling into Florida? (Reform temple closed, orthodox open during hurricanes). Earthquake in Haiti? Freezing my ass off during a Southern California summer? Did CIA really tell me they were commuting to New Orleans before...what?

FACT: In my unpublished, yet very famous book manuscript titled Gangster Nation, I measured and estimated the size of USA's cocaine importation in terms of Superdomes full of coke. Shortly thereafter, the real Superdome got a bit soggy, didn't it? And, "The Big Easy" was like, gone. As I said to my 911 St. Rita USAF spying illegally neighbor with the MAZDA MIATA & dog that pooped in my back yard (a lot), "It's all about the timeline," and EVIL, for real.

" Good afternoon, you're next up with Mr. Hughes on the Big 550."

That Guy's Botherin' 'Ya

"Fresh Market," eh? Shopping some human beings? Why? You be spyin'? I guess I should thank AL GORE for working on the Briley Parkway so much when, uh, yet another Air Force girl was making me like Mormons even less. Who was WILLIAM GAY? Trivia: For fabulous prizes, name the first name of the "Two Date Wonder" King William used to shake the "gay" label. Stumped? Try MONICA. Who was supplying B.J.'s to who? Loo-(like the nickname for St. Louis, MO)-in-(she sure got in, but not "in" enough to be really having sex, right Clinton?)-ski-(why was the girl who lived across the street at #6 The Byway, Ithaca, NY about 5 ft. 11 in., typically seen in skiwear, Bond movie beautiful, and asked me if I wanted to learn how to ski?) Don't know, but I've got theories, because they are free to construct. Girls? I fooled you all, because me momma (who "they" murdered) said to stay away from them. Girls, girls, girls.....don't trust 'em, boys.

Bill & Hillary? Fox News, it takes a "liberal" to throw them in jail. And by the way, who are "they?"

6.26.2010

Liberal? Meet Canada's Nazi-Mounties

May I visit London again someday? Hey Dave, why are the "ditch points" for my Space Shuttle GANDER, NEWFOUNDLAND and SHANNON, IRELAND? Those are two places I visited briefly on my only trip outside of the United States in 1977, because airliners need jet fuel, don't they? Oh, I "died" on the trip because it was, "In the black?" Caught smuggling drugs in Europe? Not so, Ding-Dongs, my bankers conveniently went deaf, a condition that persists in contemporary Zurich, but the battle flags in our consulate back then were way cool. The president asked what I thought of him in real-time? JIMMY CARTER, so in jail!!!

I've surmised the shuttle is about "done," right? And, it is 100% true I called USA's Military "Space Truck" a piece of excrement in 1978, and man, does NASA hold grudges. Did I really say, "Jesus! Why not a solid coating? The tiles will fall off!" ESP? No, Howard Hughes' grandson, you big dolt, and they always strategically put a Popular Mechanics or Popular Science in the laundromat, didn't they? U.K., I need more than your consular bitch sneaking up on me at Starbucks. Did I mention I do not spy? And, BTW, our Head of State is..."So in jail!"

Call the Cops, Call the Cops

$400,000 worth of "boo-boo," and no criminal charges? Mr. Hughes had Thousand Thieves, CA cops on his royal ass for shining his flashlight on a dark road filled with fog lighted, halogen-fired Nazi-mobiles. NHTSA was going to ban those crazy headlamps during the Clinton era, but today's He-Man simply must see well to squish homeless folks, right?

Right!

Quick! Does Palin know what NHTSA stands for? May I blow her off the stage with rhetoric? May I defecate indoors today? How about tomorrow? For the record, the T.O policemen said, "You can shine the light," and they might mean more than you think. Does Palin know what FBI stands for? $400K? Why, Hughes would be, as I like to taunt, "So in jail!" for similar accounting snafus.

FLASH FORWARD: United States Department of Justice, your computer passcode has been changed. The nice young Marine will redirect you back to your vehicle, because you will all be fired, and any documents related to the surnames HUGHES, LEONARD, GALLAGHER, & OLLINGER will be "carted' off to the UNIVERSITY OF MARYLAND, where someone might be able to be a tad more objective regarding the content.

p.s. I seem to be almost killed daily, so I'll damn well ask: BOOB JOB, GOVERNOR? Nice.

May I?

Old School Gangster Girl RITA RIO



Newfangled Ganster Girl SARAH PALIN

"Holy cow!" as Harry Caray often said. Was I really demonstrating what a balk is, and is not, utilizing not yet ripe peaches this a.m. as Chinese ladies did their Tai Chi? Heck, Hughes has got his own little United Nations going out here in KookLAland, while Palin came into California State University - STANislaus and talked bull excrement. Who needs this stuff? Does she get paid for it? My STAN'S DONUTS cost 50 cents, a substantial markdown from OTC prices. As a wise man said in 1996, "Hughes, it's bad out here!" Bad? Don't tell me Watergate was worse, because I saw the movie, and early 70's shenanigans pale in comparison. It's something about computers, satellites, swimmin' pools, and movie stars, isn't it? Where's my JANE HATHAWAY, before I, as the Bluesman says, "Lose my cool."

Don't believe me? To the diary we go:

06.26.10

10:28 a.m [REDACTED DUE TO TOP SECRETS, like girls, girls, girls, dancin' on the Sunset stri.....what? You talkin' to me?]

12:07 p.m.

That's the good news--JUSTIN #4 tromping over the cloverleaf at 3:00 a.m. or so was not. For the record, here are the JUSTIN'S:

1. LUTHERAN CHURCH SELLING A BIKE FOR $15 JUSTIN.

2. GAMBLING BY PHONE/ARRESTED & JAILED FOR ARSON JUSTIN.

3. BIG MARCHING TO & FROM THE LIBRARY JUSTIN.

4. "MO-MO MONSTER" JUSTIN.

Of course, Mo-Mo Justin was the one on the cloverleaf. Quick Hughesian exit it was to GOEBEL, and out front, there was the CHP, pulling over the quintessential "suspicious looking van" right in front of me. Am I famous yet, to the point where, as with Obama, there will be vanloads of Nazi skinheads riding around heavily armed looking to kill me?

Not me, c---sucker, and don't you know, an airplane so fancy the French only made six of them flew over my head at 3:28 a.m. when I reached a sort of safe spot. 'Ya made six, and I know two of the owners?

ATTN: Creepy Boeing Chicago fat white males, may I run for president, please?

Thanks.

6.25.2010

Grattan-Arsenal-Delmar


Hey Saint Louis, is it still there? I'm trying to make a movie, kids.

"Mr. Hughes, I have never seen any sign of psychopathology in you" [over 14 year period].

- VICTORIA CORNELIUS, M.D.

6.24.2010

Yea McChrystal! Boo Petraeus!: Obama? Please Ready "The Hook!"

Hey fellahs, why can't I send a message to IslamOnLine.net? Not worthy? Don't like Islamic moderates? Why not start another war in Iran? Our brave Soldiers, Sailors, and Airmen have nothing better to do in "BigBroICA." "POLITICAL PRISONER UNDER THE NEGRO" is my slogan, and let's don't test the First Amendment, because they don't call it "Con Law" for nothin', right Harvard/Yale/Cornell Law? Right!

I feel the pain of "frank" Soldiers, however, I really was accused of "Falling on my sword" in 2005, and I think it is now clear, after 17 months of living dispossessed and sleeping on park benches that I did not. The accusation was hurled by a POTUS-boinking, "middle-management" CIA girl, by her report, but NSA, I think she was lying, don't you?

Gentlemen, let's don't get all personal like that, okay? Attention .mil types! The civilian knows he is correct when hypnotized park district employees approach menacingly with a big axe at 7:30 a.m., but why call the cops, when they truly do not care about the spy's psychodrama? And, neither do I.

That said, and I, William Charles Hughes, just alleged it, here's a welcome to my stream of consciousness:

"Hmmm...after seeing a MINNESOTA Twins game, the drunk married with a kid spygirl said, 'This might be our last chance.' To have sex? Good God, the wife was already trying to kill me. I listened to Prairie Home Companion, set in MINNESOTA, when Lutherans are plotting in the church basement! When is NPR being rounded-up? When is Keillor going to jail? Seems my 'bodyguard,' when I didn't know what he was, listened to MINNESOTA boy Prince's 'Purple Rain' over & over. Nobody sold that purple LSD, to the best of my knowledge, and that was 34 years ago. My lawyer, who was a spyin' barrister, ran away to MINNESOTA, and when the State of Missouri put me out of yet another job, the black dude went to MINNESOTA. Of all the gin joints in North America! Northwest Airlines pilots can't find the biggest city in MINNESOTA? Minneapolis is big, isn't it? They were working on their laptops? I've done that, too, but an ARMY MAN broke my computer, and all the world's spies are too poor to help me fix it. No TOOLS, either. How could you get lost in MINNESOTA with avionics, computers & stuff? Where's my stuff, in MINNESOTA? No, it's on OLYMPIC AVENUE in LA, and we're all in the 'Watergate Baby Spying Olympics.' That's right, grandma--yeah, that grandma--lived on MINNESOTA. What if I get to know the Chinese as well as those damn Russians? Would I get murdered? Would anyone care? Not me. Crap! They know my slogans, like, 'If I buy all of Minneapolis, The Mafia will buy St. Paul.' Did my uncles really say, 'We need a dog act?' And now, I've got one? Or, some guy who stops by often has one. Did I really figure out, thanks to some spooky librarians, I've seen MICHELLE OBAMA close-up? How long did it take for my brain, a biological computer, to recall where I saw her? A few weeks. Clues? I got 'em. Who is that big man? The current President of the United States was there, too? 1993? No, 'they' corrected me--it was 1994. Did they have to put 'Central' in the name of the agency?Flash-Forward to 2004-2005: CHESTNUT LODGE/CHESTNUT HEALTH? I read a lot, so I got the 'joke,' and a measly $24,000 per year, with a Master's Degree and an ILLINOIS LCSW. Pitiful, spies...just pitiful. Yep, not funny, boys & girls. What did baseball announcer Mike Shannon say? 'Right down central.' Look out soldiers, sailors, and Cuckoo-Bird Air Force, because you know it's coming, don't you? What's that? The high hard one.

Next president, please.


Gas/Food/Lodging/CHITOWN - NEWARK $69


FUJI Blimp? Couldn't see the side when at 12 o'clock, but the video guy got DAT. Flyin' monkeys? "We" await them.

01.10.10--really? UNITED 634, did you try the crank? And Hughes does not talk "spy talk." I guess it didn't work.

CLICK: "This is Captain Hughes. The left wing landing gear seems to be stuck, and there is a finite amount of fuel aboard the airplane. We can't, despite our best efforts, get it unstuck. So, don't worry, there's no drama here, because I've done this in a simulator a zillion times. Please put your seat belt on, and you know the tray must be up. We shall be on the ground shortly, and a mechanic from United, despite his union card, will be running about headless. Nonetheless, I'm happy you flew with United today." CLICK.

What was I going to write before I saw the 01.22.10 issue of The Week? Must be early Alzheimer's, like Pelosi.

"Distribution Hell" = Mafia Doin' Well

We await word from E.T.'s, who will be able to brief Mr. Hughes on how many spies, Mafia, and Secret Service guys & gals attended my dollar show screening of Casino. Did I tell a local videographer who lunches with a semi big shot I'd pass out in the presence of Sharon Stone? Hey, those people don't age, but my face will look like Jimmy Carter's if I don't get a multi-pic deal soon. As for my In The Line Of Fire dollar show screening, Clint, I don't want to think about it, because I didn't notice much, so I guess that's why they put "Secret" in the name of that outfit.

"Good movie?" What's that? Have you read a lot about the making of that big flop Casablanca, as Mr. Hughes has? Have you read-up on the commotion in LA caused by Hells Angels? What scoundrel made that movie? Shut up! Because he's not your grandpa.

What do I get out of this, besides a bunch of crap? Pennies from heaven, and the real bikers who dress like DANIEL BOONE love the show when I sleep in a ditch. I know so, because they roar by with much fanfare as I brush the Sandman's grit out of my eyes.

How do they know I just awakened? I don't ask many questions, which is part of the reason I'm still alive. Spies, on the Harry S. Truman "other hand," ask a lot of questions, and I'm stupid enough to answer them. Mr. Hughes does have questions, however, such as how have you blocked my film making from the "front end" (read Bush 41 blacklisted) since early 2002?

Now, given Hollycreeps may be ready to quit artificially crying poor and make one of my least expensive tales into a...what? Are they still called "movies?" I hear there was one released that was really expensive to make, and as my guru said, it was about, "The Amazon and shit." That's a lot of money, Cameron! And, a wayward copy of Wired magazine told me y'all are in your home theatres watching interactive "Holograms and shit."

So I'm "nuts" for knowing what I know about you know what? I can't help it I'm good at this, whatever "this" is. Genetics, my boy, genetics. The jigs up: What are they really doing at AMGEN? Oh my, I've strayed from the topic, so I must be "bipolar." Are you nuts? I'm not. Bipolar Affective Disorder, and out on the streets for 17 months? No hospital? No arrests? Would it hurt you spies to secure a clinical fact or two? Ask a psychiatrist, please. That's IMPOSSIBLE!!! Have you seen me pick up a coffee stirrin' stick off the ground and use it? Yes, you have, spies, and I'm "OCD?" ONE MORE TIME: You are nuts, and I'm not!!!

Me? Mentally ill? No, ADMIRAL WILLIE is not, but I almost put two unemployed actors away in the local loony bin for 72 hours yesterday. Fussin' & fightin' they were, over what I am not sure. Kids, can we make a movie, before I put Fagan & Becker in jail over the "Show business kids making movies of themselves, you know they don't give a f--- about anybody else" business?

Please, Yahweh, Allah, Buddha, Jesus & Mary; can I get an airhorn like my SETH SINGER character you all like so much already? Talk about a "spoiler"--no date in the nation would fail to know the ending, and I don't even have the damn thing typed-up yet. Spyin' a little out here on the Left Coast, are 'ya? Just a bit, like every man, woman, and child. Hey buddy, can 'ya spare a pirated copy of MOVIE MAGIC? How about a $79 download of FINAL DRAFT, and you a--holes are not stealing it this time, or London will truly be calling, and you will find a severed weasel head in your featherbed.

Wi-Fi? Download? Will it work right? Frankly, my dear, I'd rather have a CD, or if I must download, buy TIME WARNER for that cable modem thingy. Satellite dish? Who needs 'em? Hey, I'm the boss, and you, whoever you are, don't like this. "Tough nugies," as my 5th grade nun said, and don't ask me what a "nugie" is.

I say, "F--- all of you,"and if we manage to make a movie for 2-3 million, what then? Movie theatre chains be Maf-IA. Mafia! Mafia! Aw, get real, because then my headaches begin anew, at the "back end," right? If a tree falls in the woods, and you are not around, does it make a sound? Thanks, 01.22.10 Rolling Stone, because it looks like Nothing But The Truth died a slow death, as many good movies expire, then get buried in the $5.99 DVD bin.

Hey PENSKE, may I have my 2,000 or so sound recordings back now? Why did I find so many good CD's in the Vintage Vinyl $4.99 bin? Mafia! Mafia! Any questions? Comments? I've got two Q's: 1) Is KATE BECKINSALE divorced yet?; and 2) What kind of name is FARM-IGA?

Oh, and just one more question: Can they act?

6.23.2010

Cop Stop/Hoodie Hop

MAFIA CENTER DISCLAIMER: We control the horizontal. We control the vertical. We f--- with Hughes' blog, because we can.

A week or so ago, someone came out the door of the senior center and said, "Breaker one nine." What fond memories Hughes has of being run off the Interstate highway (I-55) in the FBC Blue/HUGHES NETWORK SYSTEMS Blue van that was not technically mine. It was equipped with a Citizen's Band Radio, and.....no one answered, no one cared about my predicament, but I'm still alive. Mother of Pearl! How do you like kids? Well done.



Is breathing a violation of a T.O. Ordinance? Not yet? No "BILL HUGHES EXCEPTION" allowed! Did the policeman really say, "I've not had the pleasure of stopping you yet"? Keep the bright light on? Yes, sir! And, how about that "hoodie" daring to sneak across the Mafia Man's lawn? "You scared me," I said in the dark. Black hood, black sweatshirt, black pants? California, it's not just a fashion statement is it? And I've only known this since when? Uh, June 2008 when my "stuff" disappeared.



Did the hoodie really smile and congratulate me on something or other? For the record, I got out of there fast, because "fortress homes" in oh so safe California communities tend to have spot lights rigged to motion detectors, barking doggies, and even pressure plates in the Zoysia grass to alert the occupants that a hobo or misdirected zombie is nearby.



Maybe that 18 year-old guy wants to get his own racket going and move in that house someday. More power to him! It's the 1947 system at work, right 90 year-old Mafia, 80 year-old .mil spooks, & 70 year-old Watergate spooks? You know I'm right!!!

6.22.2010

June Gloom/Blum Doom

The President is "furious" at a ranking Soldier Boy? Smoke 'em if ya' got 'em? I'm trying to quit, myself. Me? Angry? Oh no, I'm just sitting here like a damn sheep, waiting to be murdered by the Maf-IA/.mil spook continuum.

Did they invent "Sick Building Syndrome" just for me? Maybe, given papa almost got gotten by "Legionnaire's Disease." At CORNELL UNIVERSITY, when the snobs whined, Hughes cleaned-up for minimum wage. Did I really toss down, not a gauntlet, but a damp rag in telling the black man @ personnel, "I want a better job." Textbooks? Did I write one, like deregulation enthusiast ALFRED KAHN? No, I sold them.

Let us summarize recent unclassified intelligence. Baby Rattle Snakes will get me on HWY 23, the county will pay half my rent (not!), and scraping chairs, playing radios, surfing WI-FI, tooting musical instruments, turning-on tinny speakers, and coughing loud between 4-5 a.m. is now big fun near CRPD public buildings. May I sleep? And, are you all such wealthy idiots you have to ask where I sleep? Sleep deprivation: #1 Weapon of the United States Government "Homeland" psy-ops crew. Where's my lousy tee shirt? You know the one: "PSY-OP VETERAN SINCE 1974."

"Hoodies" lurking? We got them, too, and the Brits call miscreant punks hoodies as well? "Spontaneous combustion," just like in 1977. Oh why, oh why, did the Russians wreck my car like a spy movie? The bank with the crazy name is not real? Hey NSA/CIA/DIA: Where did my money go? To an intel agency "boiler room?" This might explain why the bank's toll-free phone line went down, then back up, because I do try to pay my debts. Hughes v. Federal Reserve Bank? Let's get rockin', BANK OF AMERICA, CHASE, CAPITAL ONE, DISCOVER, and as for American Express, you'll be paid promptly when the president stops torturing me and holding me political prisoner.

Free car! Ah, but there's always a catch, like where did ROY BOY tow it? KEMP FORD? So in jail! I worked with a Ford, Getty, & Hilton, just to brag a bit, so tell me you aren't going? As a newcomer to the senior center said, rather distinctly, "They don't talk much around here." I suspect there is good reason for that, but Hughes though I am, I cannot run a detective agency out of Ralph's Cart 729. However, one friendly Fraulein did ask if I'll be walking on water soon.

No, I won't, but I did have fun on the beach in Ventura trying to not get caught by every intersection cameras rigged-up with stoplights for that 0.2 second yellow light to...what? Issue a ticket to 911 ST. RITA? Excuse me, the New Hampshire license plates "Lived Free and Nearly Died" at 30 CENTRE STREET. Why all of the cameras? Oh, that's right; Summer has been cancelled by that nuts-o facility on the beach. What is it passed-off as? A "weather station?" As my not-yet-famous character "Maui" says, "Uh huh." You all loved my photos, didn't you? Did I really stand on a wall to take them? Did a guy really sneak up and stand behind me in my favorite federal polo shirt? Who are you? Where are you? What day is it? Who is the president?

On the latter question, not Obama much longer, if my money ever talks my kind of talk. Feinstein, what do you want? Blum, as in Richard, you got an attorney? Why do you ask, Hughes? Because I can't get legal representation in the United States of America, not that I need it for defense, but I am indeed planning on running a bit of litigious o-fense, as they pronounce it in Canada, where I hasten to point out once more, government officials admitted my relationship to HOWARD HUGHES, then tossed me out, with ample cash, active credit lines with high limits, a valid passport, and only a short trip planned. Trick question: Where does the CIA stash Nazis? Answer: Canada.

Nope, spies, I don't really need lawyers, and I used to admire them until I had a prolonged civil case against me where I carried the water for a psychiatrist, psychologist, and a big hospital, per usual, then discovered the plaintiff was a secret admirer. Matt B., just wait until I get some capital, buddy, and many posteriors shall be kicked.

"I left my wallet in El Segundo" sang hip hop jackasses on my Starbucks' speakers, and you'll be missing more than your wallet when I sell DirecTV and get my act in gear. Been selling illegal drugs? No conviction required to take your house, cars, boat, airplane, etc. etc. etc. Don't mind the hair as I make friends with U.S. Attorneys, who already like me a lot, dumbass. Meantime, I've had one too many impromptu conversations I did not start about drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs.

Blum, as in Pamela, will you kindly shut-up and go away?

Thanks.

Keeping Up With The Hiltons

HACKERS, YOU CAN ERASE A PHOTO OF GOVERNOR PALIN AND CALL THIS TO MY ATTENTION ANYTIME.

"You're not me," is an often used taunt among the California cuckoo-birds, and as for, "walking in the other guy's moccasins," or "assuming the role of the other," well, the coke-nosed, genitalia-seekers out here just can't do it. ME, ME, ME, was a 1970's thing? Liars, those old spooks! 1980's greed? We ain't seen nothin' yet, right along with unseen objects like black holes and OLIVER NORTH'S notebook.

To steal from Chico Esquela, the SNL character of my youth, "The 1990's were very, very, good to me." Chico was on the air with "Mr. Bill" (me) and H-wood types have taught me how Producer Lorne Michaels had better give Hughes the show for one night, or else...what? Only civil courts of the future know for sure, and I'm no extortionist, so why not look for mucho criminal counts against those who made a lot of cash singing, writing, acting, and joking about that poor lil' prince, William V.

Pax Revengicana will be sweet, and MI-6 will teach me to play cricket, won't they? Hey, this is Hughes, the real one, so I'm not asking any questions about potential old screwballs across the hedgerow. Gentlemen, don't mind the SAM battery, if my RAF says it's okay. Meantime, the CHP (California Hughes Patrol) look has changed from a grin to a classic trooper dirty look, and this, my friends, paradoxically represents big progress.

Sheriff? We've got a new one, a "reformer," taking over a department that rumbles seismic waves like Shiites and Sunnis. The real Muslim rads William is studying-up on, while looking for moderates at home and abroad, yet this impoverished "king" is not afraid to threaten the placement of a want-ad seeking Taliban helpers--why not, when every known species of Bond-movie worthy kook is running around "VC" unimpeded?

Per usual, the dreaded local cops may be my heroes, as they sure do drive around a lot when I chat with a guy who has taken the same name as the boyfriend of a famous actress with the same name as my high school "Theatre Nun." See how it works? Have you brushed-up on your SWB St. Louis phone exchanges of old, Soldier Boy? Better drop that crack pipe and get cracking, son.

Yes, the people known all over town as "The Cops," also drive up & down when-screech-who drove by? Girls, girls, girls; this is not the right way to audition, but please don't think I'm going to do it HH's way, either. So unprofessional! But, uh, like, uh, maybe we could...uh, like...Tall, Grande, or Venti ladies, because I do get a little help there, so I finally have discarded Small, Medium, & Large to get with the program, but not, so please drive carefully while you are gawking at me, Mr. Hu-SCREECH-BAM-BAM-CRUNCH-CLUNK-TINKLE-TINKLE-Fzzzzzzzz.....

6.21.2010

Just Another Niggah In Jail

So, the President of the United States is trying to kill you. Sir, how long have you been endorsing this delusion?

The late, great, Californian FRANK ZAPPA, upon joining-up with Turtles, called his entourage "Just Another Band From LA." Me? Seems owning a good portion of the D-FENSE industry, plus 2,900 oil wells or so has rendered me, "Just another homeless guy." Oh Mafia! Now I want to know where every penny went, and hey, United Kingdom, given the "royal angle," my probable minimum wage as Duke of Clarence is...what?

No title? Oh, so we're going to press the WILLIAM V issue? "Whatever"--and while that one word almost got me tossed from STARBUCKS after a featherbed donated by a nutcase went in the dumpster, it is also an album title from 1992 by a musician I strongly suspect, judging by her long arms, is yet another not-so-secret royal.

A featherbed? Brand new? Retail cost estimate: $200? Is California nuts? Yes. Is Hughes? No. Are we done yet? Not yet? Royal singer, thanks for stopping by my coffee place on DeMun Avenue in Clayton, Missouri where an F-15A rattled the glass and almost stalled one day. Messages? With aircraft? Surely, you need Ativan, Prozac, Risperdal, or some such stuff. Back then, I was more "rational," and thus did not believe it was you sitting there staring out the window in the same direction as I. A trick, I thought. Clones of old "friends?" Hughes takes it all in stride. Not a hologram, eh?

Probably not, but I didn't touch her in handing over a pen, as requested. However, I did drive through the hood of a red pickup truck, which you absolutely cannot do unless it is a hologram. And, I vacated that south of LA Motel 6 when a .mil spook from my old AAA Auto Club job was spotted on the corner giving a hand sign that I interpreted as, "You almost got your ass killed." Why all of the simmering scepticism, when PINK FLOYD used holograms to good effect at their 1970's rock & roll shows? This is 2010, last I checked, nitwits. Long live the RAYTHEON GIRL for matter of factly saying, "Yeah, they can do that," regarding my alleged satellite antics, and they are mine, not yours, motherf---er. Sorry (but not really) to be so rude.

Did some drug dealing Navy scumbags really take me to the Zappa show in that banner year of 1974? He was hollering about a "Howard," but I didn't get it, nor did I get stoned, because I'm a good boy. And, believe it or not, when the "Dynamo Hum" lyrics were left on a Washington University in St. Louis chalkboard by F.Z. in 1978, I was perfectly "straight" that night as well. Subsequently, JOHN LENNON would not be well, however, and do I ever want to get to the bottom of that mess, fellahs.

Flash forward to 2010, and it seems I'll have to work on ending-up President of the United States and tying-up half the U.S. Navy's boats. Way too expensive! And, when the choice is often JAIL vs. NAVY for young men in the USA, what kind of Navy do you get? Sorry I asked, Admiral Cuckoo-Duck. Worse yet, I saw the NAVY RESEARCH LABS with my own eyes, and did not take a photo, because:

1. I hate gridlocking Washington; a politician might be late for his oral sex appointment; and,

2. I thought I might be killed, even though the acres of one-story gray buildings are there for all to see. (Same color as I painted my grandma's porch in 1987--you know, the one who got birthday cards from GEORGE H.W. BUSH. Did I really say, "Grandma, this does not look like a stamp. This signature looks real." For the record, she blushed a bit and said, "I get one every year.")

Girls, Mr. Hughes knows what is in your purse, and he has a very good idea what is going on in those buildings he would close-down as your president. Evil? Christians, what did JIMMY CARTER do in the U.S. Navy? It's one of my first January, 2013 questions if I could pull this one off. USA! USA! Here's "The Pledge": NO INTELLIGENCE BRIEFINGS UNTIL I GET THERE.

Why? Because they're all liars. And, if I "made it," when they lie to me, much like that "eccentric" WILLIE IV, the White House maintenance man can patch holes in the wall from balls expelled by my black powder pistol. The sound will be a truly unique way for the staff to know I'm not happy.

Under The HoliTortureDome: Part III

"How much is that doggie in the window," sang grandma when I was a kid. Was she talkin' to me? A bridge? No! May I sell DirecTV and buy Time Warner? Thanks.

From the "Guess You Had to Be There Department," how about a petite female within spittin' distance of Mr. Hughes' advancing age, saying to the creepizoid sitting like a rodent in a big, black, SUV: "You talkin' to me"? A fertile question it is so near Westlake Village of the Damned, and she accused the metro area of engaging in a form of "torture" through the Ventura County non-provision of social services, particularly for the homeless.

What's not to like about a gal who wrangled a grocery store gift card out of the Mormons? Then, they started the patented CA "runaround" to aid her in dehydrating and dying, the accusations flew at the...what's that store called? HAZARDWAY? DANGERWAY? RONS? VINS? Whatever. Private security firms spying? No markings on the car? No identifier on the uniform?

You'd think they would put "BIG & BROWN SECURITY SERVICES, LLC" or something of that nature on their white shirt, and refrain from telling Mr. Hughes to "Hit the road," when I've been trying for 17 damn months, and that is an accurate count, not "Number Kookery," like the 117,000 population figure for your vile, hyper-narcissistic community. As a brave lady from the Philippines said at the senior center, "They're rich! And they just sit on their asses!"

That lady has got it going on, and yet another lady made the spyin' allegation, not me, and she's been stuck in T.O neutral longer than I. The problem here, ma'am, is you don't need any psychotropic medication, you are correct. Hughes will gladly entertain you with plans & strategy for future lawsuits and criminal trials, in exchange for a cheeseburger on Tuesday.

Under The HoliTortureDome: Part II

Mr. Hughes always follows the policeman's lawful directives, but if it comes to this...well, I just can't guarantee good behavior when Thousand Oaks hires these guys.

If I wrote a screenplay where the plot called for killer clouds of fog rolling through a park where the protagonist hid, a big, bad, tobacco company lacing cigs with a neurotoxin that messed with your lungs more than plain old tar, and the above creepiness was to set up, for lack of a better term, a "neuro-disruptor beam" aboard a satellite, that combined with the slightest shock to your senses, like a too-tart SWEET TART (www.nestleusa.com) hits the "target's" nerve endings, and...what? Your rather essential respiration stops.

How does the H-man, your Alpha Dog Sherlock, get his clues? Try the 11019 Mollerus, face carved-up from plastic surgery neighbor who worked as a Respiratory Therapist. Married to who? A guy who really knows CIA cocaine business, and he pulled-up next to me on Connecticut Avenue in our nation's capital, despite being "dead." Let's add the spygirl who took Mr. Hughes to see a Nestle propaganda film where the theme was "water," and yes, I am the Hughes, and my remark, post-screening was, "Did you notice the oil company film was saying, 'Don't worry, we'll drill and find more, whereas the Nestle short was rather socialistic'."

Nestle, your 800 number seems to end in "1971," which was the same year a Catholic priest accused me of drug abuse by saying, "Hughes, you've got needles hanging out of your arm," as with shooting-up heroin, when I hadn't even touched that marijuana stuff, and didn't drink alcohol, either.

Didn't they deliver a guy to a hospital in Houston, Texas in 1976 with needles hanging out of his arm? It was HOWARD HUGHES? Don't think so, however, I welcome you to my world of the "one hint hint." Text messages? Bridge games? Chess? Who needs it? Instead, please join me in wondering where they found a dead wino who looked like grandpa Howard.

Under The HoliTortureDome: Part I

"Amazing" it is to Hughes that a credibly rumored sexual predator I've nicknamed "THE VEGAS DRIFTER" can ride up & down JANSS ROAD on his flamin' cycle when I was having a bit of S.O.B., and it was not from hollering at Thousand Oaks morons who enjoy hollering at me from their expensive automobiles. Is that guy RICK GOWDY's gift? MISSOURI DEPARTMENT OF MENTAL HEALTH--So in jail!

The family sayings keep on coming, and a big one was/is, "He/she said it, I didn't." Don't we all love a McDonald's that fires its best worker in favor of illegal aliens, messes up drive-through orders to annoy, and provides the spy's beloved--in "T.O" anyway--"parking lot staredown." And, don't forget that "Funny Money" script the Catholics across the street give away, so the homeless can rub shoulders with drug dealers and move up in the world, if you get my drift.

I'm Catholic, so I've been recommending the LA Archdiocese pass the plate an extra time or two, because I may have a lawyer someday, or maybe even a whole firm full of them. "So in jail!" I've thundered, regarding "Our Lady of the Black Tee Shirt," and the more prosperous steeple with a miserly St. Vincent DePaul, where they keep a file on you without consent, run surveillance, and in my case, assume names from my screenplay characters, then "disappear." Don't ask the parish receptionist where the spooks went, because she's very skilled at playing it dumb.

Oh these spies, and their incessant efforts to change reality and change the story! Does the rest of the nation understand the Left Coast is on the verge of an odd variant of anarchy whereby anybody with money can get away with anything? But friends, don't dare get too noisy/nosey in a budget hotel, or sass the policeman--then it gets downright totalitarian.

The Hughes for President entourage will merely ask, "What do you want?" Total lockdown/total security, or a dose of Athens-like pluralism? "You can't have it both ways" is a favorite of the candidate; that's me, William C. Hughes.

6.17.2010

Donut Tossing Days Are Here Again!

Tossing donuts at various BUSH-CHENEY "Workmen-Hitmen." Those were the days.

When was the last time I watched the Channel 2, 4, 5, 11, or 30 news? Let's don't talk about it, because it seems like eons ago, but less that three years in what the spies might call "Dog Years." Instead, I'm wondering where KATHRYN JAMBORETZ went. [The magic of Soldier Boy's Internet! From KPLR to KTRS, to CHARLIE DOOLEY'S press spokeswoman! Kind of "media promiscuous" for a Nerinx Hall girl]. Melanie Moon and Dan Gray are still on Channel 11, but with FCC mandatory mind control digital, does the "channel" even matter anymore? May I run for president, please? Not yet? Okay, I'll sit in Carl's Jr. with an unemployed actor, like I'm supposed to.

Working late...always. Did I have a "bodyguard" from the Children's program when I worked late in Creve Coeur, Missouri? How about that goose poop on the parking lot? Was that supposed to be a joke? Those critters were mean; Canadian geese they said, and don't worry Barack, I think I'd rather burn down Ottawa first. "Uh, Houston, what did the Canadian National Security Man say...say again, please." What he said, in front of four uniformed witnesses was, "Now Hughes, don't go buying-up Canada." Secret agent? Vampire? Undercover E.T.? California, you are like an old M.A.S.H episode--Hawkeye (me), just can't help you, and Col. Flagg has disappeared, per usual.

How about the Creve Coeur tornado? The staff said, "You were in the office?" Were James Bond movies really about grandpa Howard, because I recall saying, "The lights blinked, and I heard something, but I had work to do." Touchdown! At a car dealer about a half-mile away, that is. Sirens? Who gives a rat's ass about tornado warnings when you're behind on your Medicaid billing, right Governor Nixon?

Former Governor Blunt should know as well, a Hughes always has a plan, and mine that late afternoon/early evening was to go to the Medical Records Room that was in the center of our one-story, no basement building, cover myself with crrrrrazy people's medical charts, and hope for a minimum of glass shards and objects that might impale me.

Hey, DAVID L., remember the time I locked myself out of "The Annex," and walked to...where? The mighty mysterious AMEREN UE power station, where I called the crisis line to find you. All concerned acted really strange, and oh Lord, now I know why.

Confucius say, "Never work that late when trying to get Little Debbie back in the hospital," because I sure know now NORMA wouldn't lift a finger for additional reasons besides taking the cake as the laziest bureaucrat I've seen in my entire life. Debbie, who liked to get "suicidal" and yank my chain, really did almost die--no canned ham--when my boss Rob was holding the fort. You see, a Hughes is never "on vacation," but spies seem to like their cruises, time-sharing, and amusement parks. America, U.K., and all ships at sea: I AM NOT AMUSED.

Not at all humored, because Debbie never yanked what may have been alleged to have been yanked, I never patronized the daughter's massage parlor, although as with Jimmy Carter's lust, I will admit I thought about it, no biracial children were transported sans car seat, and I did not kill the "Sugar Daddy," but I did muscle-up and insist her psychiatrist who hailed from The Philippines, and was making a fortune off this particular mess, be fired. Rob backed me up, and as the Treasury Department knows in relation to banks, gov'ment giveth, and gov'ment can taketh away.

Is Missouri Secretary of State and senatorial candidate Robin Carnahan still single? (That's a joke, son).

It's Time? Not Yet?

Spies with guns? I wouldn't believe it, so where are thee now, St. Peter(s)?

To the diary we go:

06.16.10
12:38 p.m.

"Thanks to the L[ ] CLUB for letting me know I was supposed to die yesterday--like I didn't already know that. Don't want that yahoo.com stuff goin' up? Too bad, [ !] Why all of the bloggy ideas? MIND CONTROL! Keep him blogging like a comedy show, with no POTUS action. Hey ass----, I'm running for president, and how about our:

INFILTRATED
DRUG-ADDLED
TRAITOROUS
GREEDY
DUPLICITOUS
WASTEFUL
TOTALITARIAN
F---ED UP
NEO-ROBBER BARON
BANKRUPTING USA
CUBAN MISSILE CRISIS EVERY DAY
TERRORISTIC
DOWNRIGHT ROTTEN

D-FENSE INDUSTRY?

Mostly mine? As Dr. Hood said at LC I & II in 1975, "That figures."

Jimmy, Roll the Jeep (ZOOM, ZOOM)

The first thoughts of a homeless man in the early a.m. often lead to the "Outrage of the Day." My outrage a few days ago? Did I really pull up to the SUNOCO pumps, access the 260 Blend--or was it 280?--and drive a FIAT X1-9 that was not mine, because it was way cool, but a policeman was probably lurking behind every billboard & bush. Ah, but no tickets! It's all about what my departed buddy Dick Nixon told the real CIA: "Don't get caught!"

"Outrage Central" finds that X1-9 was the same color as the FIAT 124, DATSUN 1200, and VOLVO 240. How about my "burnt orange" AUDI 100LS that came later? 100? Thanks, I needed that, and the coated in many layers of aluminum foil cake delivered by a "hippie queen" at the MIFFLIN STREET COOP was appreciated as well. Real-time thoughts of the Hughes? "This is a cool little car, but I'll pass on the mid-engine design at tune-up time," because it was conveniently not my car. And, in the 1982 cake time zone, it was, "Gosh, she sure put enough foil on here."

"People know many things" is one of my sayings, and now I know why my by ill-fated marriage step-brother had only a "Work-Study" job, yet lived off campus, drove a sports car, and always had pretty girlfriends. No rash allegations here, USA, like nuclear terrorism, attempting to assassinate the president, and crashin' a Space Shuttle horse manure directed at me; heavens to Betty, no! Let's just do a simple "Me & Him" analysis, as follows:

WILLIAM: 3.5 or so GPA.
JIMMY: Flunked-out.

WILLIAM: Student Gov'ment Bossman.
JIMMY: Failed Soccer Jock.

WILLIAM: 24 hours of off-campus (hard) work.
JIMMY: "No work" Work-Study job.

WILLIAM: No auto accidents.
JIMMY: Rolled Jeep 2x, or was it 3x (I lost count).

WILLIAM: No "downers" (Remember Quaaludes, spykids?).
JIMMY: "Soapers" for breakfast; how do you think he wrecked the Jeep?

WILLIAM'S "FRIENDS": Defense Industry, Broadway, SNL, Directing TV Shows, Aiming Crusie Missilies, and much more.
JIMMY'S "FRIENDS": Check Leavenworth, Kansas & Marion, Illinois.

Missing Items, Missing Persons

"GE ROLLS-ROYCE FIGHTER ENGINE TEAM, LLC"
LLC? that ain't gonna save your butts after Hughes gets going, not "rolling."

"FLASHBACK" BONUS:
In 1977, en route to The Netherlands, Hughes thought, "A bit choppy, yes, but the big engine says 'Rolls Royce' on the side. We'll be fine." Did they have to leave the door open? For an additional thought of, "Wow, those guys are flying the plane," that is (a few feet away, gentle readers). People, you were not supposed to do that, even back then. MORE TRIVIA: Q: Where did the Boeing 707 Captain sit, somewhere over the June, 1977 North Atlantic, when he wasn't on the flight deck? A: Behind Hughes, of course! Hey, when you are 21 years-old, and on your first STEVE MILLER "Big old jet airliner," you don't ask questions, like, "Captain why are you sitting behind me?" (Isle Seat, for the record). Yes, my fellow Americans, it would take a few more months for me to be DELTA Airlines Force brave and take a window seat to watch everybody break FAA separation regs and...what? Are you "crazy?" No, but it sure looked like your plane was flying into my Delta plane. (That's back before Southwest Airlines became the cheap St. Louis - Chicago ticket, then they started their antics with H-man. Got any money, SW Air? I wrote one of your 737's into my new screenplay).

Back to the "flashback," they knew who I was, didn't they? They knew what my fake buddy was up to as well, didn't they? No hash in an Amsterdam hash bar? They hid under the counter, just like EXXON MOBIL clerks hide from me in gas stations (back when I had a car). How about the intel world famous "Dominican Man" in the WENDY & U.S. 101 Mobil, who said, regarding banks that should have flat-out failed, "Uh, do you think somebody, like, uh, maybe stole all of that money?" Mr. Hughes is, among other things, the ED MCMAHON of American politics, as I replied, "You are correct, sir!" Next day, the Sheriff was out there--welcome to Ventura County, eh? Where did those official green "CONEJO COUNTY" road signs go? How about the BRYAN ROAD sign in Virginia? Or was it Maryland? It was Virginia. In Maryland, where did the SUPER 8 MOTEL go? Where did the USPS Post Office go? America, you know you are important when "they" tear-down the hotel you stayed at with .mil spooks, and move the Post Office. They sure try to disorient the Hughes, don't they? What did daddy say? "Pick a landmark." Amen!

Back to 2010, who's next to "Walk the plank?" How about ROBERT MUELLER, III? Why? The FBI is not supposed to go looking for cocaine, are they? Is that still their job? In 1977, it was, but only if you are named HUGHES, right? Right! "Saturday Night Massacre?" I do not like that violent metaphor; how about one by one, until little Barack is all alone?


For your amusement, in chronological order of disappearance, as the maternal side of the family said, here's a list of things that "sprouted legs and walked away."


(1974) The "It's the End of the World" Associated Press (AP) "ticker" paper. (I-Pod people, you will not know what a ticker is, will you? GONE!!!

(1978) Letters from an Israeli spygirl's kibbutz. GONE!!!

(1983) College yearbook? Surely you jest! LC Lions, lock 'em up, and maybe I am talking "spy code" here. GONE!!!

(2007) Tom Wolfe's The Right Stuff (hardbound), with a note from Mrs. Hughes. GONE!

(2008) Everything I've Ever Owned. GONE!!! (Don't think so...right LAPD?).

(2010) Mr. William Charles Hughes. NOT GONE!!!

6.16.2010

Liberal Republican! Sorry, We're Outta Time

It has been three years since my helpful computer guy removed Internet Explorer 7 and got I.E. 6 back on my machine, and guess what? It worked better. In California, people aren't too talkative, but when I mentioned the old neighborhood's penchant for, as with cars, "souping-up" old Microsoft products, the comment was, "Yeah, they don't support the earlier versions, so nobody cares."

I don't know computers, but on this point, I doubt I'm guessing. I get my property back from PENSKE and...it's WINDOWS 95 baby, plus WORD 97 on the very first computer I owned, right .mil spooks? Right Maf-IA? Right .gov types? Right! Kinda slow at 200 mz, however, so I guess I'll rush to Best Buy and...not get shot on the parking lot, right? Right!

Hughes wants fast, Hughes wants a hard drive, not "clouds," Hughes wants a little camera to videoconference with big-shot corporate types, Hughes understands that you can just about make a feature-length movie at home that will look good, and Hughes might even go back to places FASTRANS, BRICK NETWORK, and i-NET sent me due to over 50% porn link e-mail. Add dating services, penis enhancement, lost Nigerians, and that was my mailbox 1997-2007.

To be continued...everyone likes me now? Why not distract me...in a good way.


Blackmail? Don't you get it? Yes, I went one click into the XXX sites, and it seems a radio personality who complained about the porn-laden Internet provider ended up dead. Police detectives are supposed to look for "patterns," are they not? How about the radio turned TV newslady who also ended-up squashed and dead in her lil' BMW on I-270? Seems Hughes had given her some scoop on mental health system issues before the "big bang." HINT: Look at these gals husbands, not me. Death is permanent, don't you know? (Pardon me, Californians are so crazy, I feel compelled to point this out from time to time).

Yessireee, early campaigning would consist of sitting on the edge of a college auditorium stage and asking 18-21 year olds about S-E-X, because the out of control U.S. libido has moved way past this quasi-Freudian stick in the mud. Add the "homeless quotient," and I'm really in the dark & dirt--no "spy talk" here. No secrets, either, as the senior citizens of Kaiser Permanente-land have given me another idea.

Why not buy my very own Glomar and go nuke-fishing? Stealthier, faster, cheaper...hey, this ain't your grandpa's Hughes out here. I want a sub, too, Admiral Cuckoo-Duck, so here's the "cover." Create an oil spill, hire a PR firm, and PRESTO! It's "Hughes the environmentalist," working diligently on new scrubby methods to clean up the mess.

Really, I'd love to be coveting a U.S. gov'ment nuke, if I went that route. Air Force lost it, Navy never bothered to go get it, and...are we having fun yet? Or, didn't another sub that was owned and operated by you know who...like, uh, sink?

History repeats itself. Just ask the French.

6.15.2010

Melanie Easy Street

Melanie, where art thou KPLR Melanie? Did I not live on MELANIE STREET? Don't lie spies, the policeman let me use his car battery on Melanie, to launch a big fat rocket that "disappeared" from my closet, as many things do in the life of a Hughes. It looked suspiciously like the Space Shuttle and its solid fuel.....never mind. Melanie, didn't your partner, DAN GRAY, stand behind me the last time I was permitted to vote in the United States of America?

Oh Melanie, airplanes are real, because Howard flew Lockheed Constellations to get away from a-holes, and he was such a "communist," he toted the passenger's bags as well. It's true, because I saw a photo of him in his snazzy TWA uniform on that Soldier Boy's Internet, but now, it is surely "gone," because that's the way it goes in this "War of the Rodents." But Melanie, I'm not one of them, and more to the point, I was always a big fan of yours, so, like, what's your marital status?

Mr. Hughes, Just another St. Louis boy

This Is War

Girls, how do I get something like this going? Hop the White House Gate dressed like an Apache? The Apache helicopter was stolen from me, don't you know?

Hold on little intel Missie's, I've had about enough of this crap. There's only one Hughes eldest male, only one knows politics, and only one does not do "bad things," or provide funding for them. It's a lotta Howard, a little Charlie, and all Willie IV, honey. I'm not kidding about issuing an Executive Order someday calling for no more than 15-20 minute military commission trials, and BANG-BANG, TIMMY MCVEIGH soldiers eat lead in front of a firing squad. Without a doubt, MICHAELE and TAREQ SALAHI are being
rewarded for their behavior, and hey U.S. Marines, "nice job" knocking down photos on "The Web" of you posing with this slut.

I'm so damn rich & important, I don't seem to have a movie deal, or book contract, nor much cash to run for president. In fact, I sit around Thousand Thieves, CA awaiting my own murder, and this is George W. Bush "unacceptable," baby. Our U.S. Navy has been engaged in domestic spyin' since day one, Army is klutzy at it, Air Force will tell you they are doing it, and Marines, now you are in the "construction business" too, eh? SO IN JAIL!
Can you pass it down the soldier/sailor/airman line that spying post-discharge is highly illegal?

Hughes, you are a day late and a dollar short again, because this here slo-mo military coup is way down the track, isn't it? Good God, it took a Marine spygirl to let me know I got it wrong in my world famous, never published in the USA book, Gangster Nation. Soldiers are going to be selling cocaine? They've been doing it for decades, dummy, she non-verbally told me. And how about Ventura, California, circa 2008, back when I had a Ford Focus with a jacked ABS braking system? Still couldn't get me, could you? You dumb-ass soldiers! Marching, marching, and when H-man says to himself and the Focus bugs, "These look like active military boys," you know I'm right!

So, the 40-something year-old reservist from Vermont goes to Iraq and gets his ass killed (a lot), and the "fresh" high school drop-out soldier is going to make scenic Ventura County his location for secret nutjob military drills, obstacle courses, and looking fearsome to local homeless hippies and drug dealers. My obstacle courses are called RALPH'S & VONS, but dear God, you can kill me now, because now I know why the fat lady was stuck in the isle of SCHNUCKS & DIERBERGS, plus we've all got 300 coupons and returns, right?

Right! It all makes sense if you live long enough, as with the little Jewish ladies in Florida bringing their bric-a-brac crap back to delay the great Hughes for a few more minutes when the poor guy didn't even know why he was being delayed, all of the freakin' time. And, as for the many Cuban guys sitting with me in Dunkin' Donuts, I knew who you were, but not who I was. Fan clubs everywhere, and no capital--it's enough to make me a Marxist.

Not to worry, as later I saw a C-130 trim the trees of a local Thousand Oaks church, as did two F-15's at my way too famous former residence, 911 St. Rita Avenue in Clayton, MO. Plus, I've recently spied the activation of "CIA Acidheads," and don't you know they: A) Made a hell of a lot of money since Timothy Leary days; B) Know computers well; and C) Are up to something, don't ask me what. Back when my intel knowledge was all from published material in the "free world," I thought, as with all spying matters, Harry Truman had a number of reasons for unleashing the CIA on us.

However, I never guessed the good reasons would include rebellious armed forces, visitors from very, very, far away spying on the development of our "A-Bomb," the "activities" of my own grandfather, Howard Hughes, natural-born mind readers, ESP types who really have such talents, as well as to guard against more mundane collectivist schemes, bad guy "terrorists" (before we called them that), foreigners stealing "military secrets," etc. etc. etc. Wow! Now I'm doubting RICHARD HELMS burned the MKULTRA files, and suspecting our "SS," namely the Secret Service, carted them off to a highly undisclosed location.

USA, this has got to be considered a problem, but as I often point out, the policeman still travels in a car made of steel & plastic with rubber tires. He, as I joke, is mainly concerned with the size of his "direct deposit," and I know I'm right, because I really did work for a state government, I really did ride shotgun with the cops, flirt with a really--ahem--fit bicycle cop, get scared by a female cop who drove like her gender tends to, plus I really did answer calls, ask the nature of the problem, and a guy said, "He has threatened the life of the President of the United States." Always a joker, but in that instance, I can be totally JOE FRIDAY, and I really did say, "We'll get right on it." (Stopping the would-be assassin, not helping him, and Mafia, you just can't turn this stuff around, but I could be artificially homeless for many more months, or even years, unless somebody steps up to the plate in my behalf).

Do I have to get "radical" or something? Is this required? How about the fact that Japan's whole government can resign, and guess what? The newspaper is published, the subway comes, sushi is on the table, stocks are traded, ATM machines still spit out cash, the kids go to school, a campy TV show is on in the evening, and.....life goes on. Couldn't Joe Biden pick a whole new Cabinet? It would be legal, right? I think I'll try to e-mail Ron Paul.

6.14.2010

Jesus Therapy

What kind of war is this, where I fight back by repeating these lines as needed to the surveillance crowd?

"I think if it's controllable, we oughtta just try to land it."
"You think so? Okay, let's head for LA."

DARPA Duds? So in jail!

"California is wild!" said The Arnold in Time Magazine, so how about I get my California LCSW and introduce you all to a new psycho-therapeutic treatment: Jesus Therapy. Can you see the ad in one of the many health-conscious (read obsessed) publications on the Left Coast? Slogan? Gotta have one, and mine would be, "Jesus Therapy--Your New Life Begins Today."

What is Jesus Therapy? Why, I'm going to raise you from the dead. Mafia Lawyers take note: I will need some "fine print" that excludes head-chopping cases, gunshots, and severe car accidents, because I'm no surgeon, nor do I play one on TV, I'm a psychotherapist. Assuming your corpse is in good shape, you'll rise from the dead, but I'm stuck on what kind of fee to charge.


What is more living worth after you're dead? As Firesign Theatre said in the early 1970's, "Whatever the market will bear." So, Hollywood overdose cases, you know where your boyfriend or girlfriend can go--assuming they want you back, that is. Would I hire a body-double to prove efficacy?


Hey, "Mr. Hues" needs some cash.