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?


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