Car trouble? Hey, America, it might be "spy trouble." Secret police? Surely you jest, but not. It is true that one of my claims to fame in Missouri was maybe having something to do with the real policeman shooting at them with real bullets when they were messing with a poor soul's car. Yeah, they really did, but unfortunately missed, maybe on purpose to send a "message" of another sort.
Were "friends" sabotaging my car(s)? Yes, because spies are not friends.
1968 CHRYSLER NEWPORT, Pale Yellow
The salesman was slick, the A/C cold, and a 383 engine? King of the Road, or so I thought, until the oil leaked, leaked again, the radiator leaked, the transmission fluid leaked, the power steering pump reservoir leaked, and when I called it the "East Africa Car," at least one spy teen was smart enough to get the "Dr. Leakey" joke.
1972 DATSUN 1200, Olive Green
I should write a book on this car alone. Grandpa, yes that grandpa, but not the one you think, lent me some money toward the purchase. I paid it back at $50 per month, and yes, bogus Five-o's, I sent my grandparents a check every month, until for a Christmas gift, I was told, "Aw, forget about it." What were they testing? William pays his bills & debts, a--holes, but not to Mafias for merely the privilege of staying alive.
On the mechanical end, first a new transmission that cost as much as I had borrowed from the Genevieve Street Bank, then my "Starter a Month Club" formed, and soon thereafter, the PCV Valve managed to get sucked into my engine outside King of Prussia, Pennsylvania, both a bad joke and evidence magic Hughes technology is not all that new, given this occurred in 1976. Yes, don't we love college pranks, like a spygirl lying about clutch competence, wrecking it, then coming around like a comet 24 years later to be a lazy-assed GF. (That's a medical chart abbreviation for "girlfriend"). She was the lump on the right side of the bed from a potential assassin's perspective, by the way, but I chased him off, per usual.
Good thing I was forewarned by aviation lights through our bedroom window from a helicopter hovering in my back yard. Again, does this stuff happen to you? I hope not. Polishing-off the Datsun, I really did wire-up a homemade ignition switch, because Mr. Hughes knows "wires" & stuff, so be scared, very scared. The "final frontier?" A complete, case of beer consuming engine tear down, with a spy guy/drunkard. I said, "We left out a part, Rick." "Aw, just start it up," he said, and that 1200cc engine purred like never before, sans pushrod, or at least I think that's what it was. It was sold to a probable spy who said, "Your ad said 'runs well', not 'runs good.' You must have gone to college." It is true that I attended Lindenwood, but that's barely college, and as it turned out, possibly training for something else.
1972 FIAT 124, Olive Green
Was my wife really on TV filling-up the tank with Premie at a 1980 shocking $1.85 per gallon?One? Eighty-five? Do they plan this stuff? Yes, "they" do, and she sure looked good at the pumps, if somewhat pissed. It was a MOBIL station, where I was a customer because they sponsored opera, right Dick Cavett? Right! Later, I quit them for COCOCO PHILLIPS on a rumor it was all domestic crude, yet another "hint," because guess what? That thar oil is mine, not yours, Maf-IA. Haven't killed me yet? As my semi-famous client Herbert would say, "Are you surprised?"
The 124, believe it or not, got recalled due to rust; something about the car possibly breaking in half, and now that Fiat seems to be taking over the world, or so they think, maybe that was another little "message" I did not understand. Half, eh? Not one penny to gangsters or soldiers, and next time a Sgt. York goes wild, I'm going to.....may I have a lawyer before I threaten the Joint Chiefs of Staff in Soldier Boy's Pentagon? Thanks.
1974 AUDI 100 LS, Orange
I was apparently judged the spy's "100" by fellows I nicknamed, "Two Guys With a Car Lot." Can't recall their names. What a car! Quirky, yes, but I found Mr. Baker, the mechanic, and when he was done working on it for a reasonable price, you could put a glass of wine on the dash at 70 m.p.h and not see a ripple. King of the Adirondacks I was, and the spygirl said, "Yes Bill, the trees are dead from acid rain." Ultimately, the burnt orange Audi was towed away from the address .gov types won't let me change, so I will have to change the government. Get elected and change things. That is how it works--period.
1978 CHEVROLET IMPALA, White
Started every time, and was never vandalized by spooks. I wonder why not?
1990 MAZDA 323, Blue
Was it 130,000+ miles? I was trying to get to 150,000, and that was well before I caught-on to the USA's obsession I call, "Number Kookery." One "thirty" (terminate)? One "fifty" (you are the "secret policeman?"). No, you are a damn idiot! All of those clients, all of those miles, and I can't get a ride up the block to buy "provisions?" Stick it where the sun don't shine, and all spies know what I'm going to stick you with, due to your rather obvious nightmare of drugs, drugs, drugs, & Murder Inc. in the "safest" city where? Are you nuts? I'm not.
How about that smiling CarX Man who rigged my 323's brakes to lock-up? I thought it was a defect in the design of the car. General Rule? If the spy is smiling, he or she is stabbing you in the back. "Byron," the black guy in the shop, can put Mr. CarX Smile in jail, because he's the one who said, of the 240SX that would come next, "Heck, this car ain't even broke-in yet." True, and how many times did that vehicle keep me alive in Nashville, TN? Now, I want my movie studio there, because I think all Pre-9/11 kamikaze drivers were lied-to, were they not?
The Mazda only had one brake lock-up that led to a crunch, and given it was due to a moron who hit the brakes unexpectedly near "Little Debbie's" home to cause an accident, when no damage was seen, the spy and I said, "Forget it." Today, I'd like to forget this B-Grade spy movie life of constant entrapment schemes and messed-with automobile brakes. As my "Hollywood Helper" said, "In some ways, it's good that you're homeless." You are correct, sir! However, maybe I'll hire a driver some day at $200,000 or so, because honey, you are going to have to, as yet another spy once said, know how to drive, if 'ya get what I mean, because this ain't no friggin' Bond movie.
How about that next car salesman I called, "The Surfer Dude?" Here is a reenactment:
HUGHES: I'll give you [ ] for the 240.
SURFER: Okay. I'll give you [ ] trade-in for the 323.
HUGHES: Give me more for the 323.
Could multi-billion Dollar/Euro deals be that easy? Stay tuned. Depends on the Surfer.
1992 NISSAN 240SX, White
The fuel line was cut, but not cut. The parrot is dead, the parrot is not dead. A spark plug was jammed down into the engine block? How did you do that? Now I know, and spookies, I'm just not telling until I get on television [no abc 7 van in sight today. Maybe tomorrow]
2007 FORD FOCUS, Black
The pretty, near to my age salesgirl was trying to kick her husband out and.....liar, liar! Especially with "cia" in your last name. Two pennies on the gearshift case upon delivery? "Another bugged car," I thought, but did not yet know why in early 2007. How many times did Nazis turn-off the ABS remotely for Bond-movie exciting skids? Not telling until we are in courtrooms. Can Hughes drive like in the movies? How about brakes locked for 100+ yards on an icy Washington, D.C. overpass with lots of traffic. No kissing the guardrail, no insurance claim, and don't ask me how I did it. Shooter Jennings was cranked loud, and I sat for seven and a half hours.
Did the fireman wet-down that overpass to create ice? Yes, he did, and shame on you! Did a Russian c-nt hit the poor little Focus in a big, black, Cadillac Escalade and drive away? Yes, and who cares, because like Harry S. Truman, if "they" piss me off in that job, I'll just take a walk, any damn time I please.
Do you all remember JOHNNY CARSON? How about, "It's so cold in California this Summer, the hookers have.....[fill-in the blank]. You have to be of a certain age to remember Carson's glory days, but as a Watergate Baby and not yet troubled by Dementia person, young CA hooligans make me look better all of the time, and possibly better bred than that "other" William, who, if you'll pardon the expression, reportedly knocked-up his girlfriend.
Excuse me, I am truly a rude American, and I'll get as rude as the judge will allow, when you a---holes answer some questions in court, like the more amazing "why" questions:
1. Why was Richard M. Nixon standing before me smiling broadly? (and rather unexpectedly).
2. Why stroll by with the "football?" (Too close for comfort).
3. Why was I kicking back with Eugene McCarthy? (Did I really ask that question of the Senator? Yes, I did).
4. Why an Air Force One tire inspection? Doesn't somebody else do that who gets paid?
5. Why George W. Bush close enough to toss a rock, and...hey, I did not!
6. Why a B-2 Bomber diving at the humble abode? Just in the neighborhood?
7. F-15's falling on the noggin'? Can I have one? Please?
8. Chatting it up with George McGovern? And we both lived?
9. Why was Marine One after me? Run! Run! (not)
10. Why a Space Shuttle flyover & sonic boom? And, for the record, I was not talking to myself when I said, "Jesus! I haven't heard that since an F-4 did it!"
11. Why was the Popemobile blacked-out? Oh, now I "get it" (I think...I hope).
12. Why a set of Gray F-15's trimming the trees in Turner's backyard? I heard them coming, and the radio tower they almost hit is now a Christian pap station? No more commercial classical in The Loo? We'll fix that quick, if I ever figure out who "we" are.
13. Why "ditto" Rush, at the Presbyterian Church in Thousand Thieves with a C-130? The spygirls already told me what naughty Soldier Boys are using that plane for. Did you have to put my motel room number on a flight deck instrument read-out? Not right! But, momma was wise to suggest looking at the photos. (Me? A spy? May I read unclassified material, like The Economist, and unlike John McCain, understand what they are getting at? It's no "secret" USA & UK be broke, is it?
14. And lastly, why a Barack Obama body-double in the McDonald's drive-through? It was really him? Only a White House gate-crasher would know for sure.
"Since when did the Post-Dispatch start putting a reporter's e-mail address back to where they are "discoverable." Wasn't "Discovery 68" a great old ABC show? Lee Enterprises? Did you maybe get your blue & gray mixed-up? One of my uncles had a collection of Confederate money, and that's a fact, unlike much of what I find in Southern California.
Where did I read that STAN MUSIAL had died? Ever heard of "phishing?" Thank heavens the Globe Democrat has risen from the ashes. I didn't like the old Globe during Watergate, because I'm a "liberal," but today, as a consequence of that black fellow...what's his name? OBAMA, that's it...I'm not so sure. How did "they" turn me into a Republican? Ask anybody who knew me in St. Louis. That should be impossible, but it's happening. Should I seek highly politicized counseling? Oh, that's called "running for president," but mean old Mafia men won't let me, and the California policeman is mighty lazy.
Print media is more reliable? I call it "prishing," and don't go and steal my name for it, because how many times can "they" steal HUGHES TOOL COMPANY, HUGHES AIRCRAFT COMPANY, and now, my eight (8) original screenplays? Why/how did I write them not knowing the obvious? Does the Pope defecate in the woods? No, but the last one drove by me with the Popemobile blacked-out. Did that mean something? Will you ask your Editorial Board, because I don't know.
Did someone leave me a totally "prished" copy of the LA Times? What should I do with it? I'm new at this, whatever "this" is. At least I know it is called "disinformation", but that explanation for George Orwell made real was at the UMSL Library, along with F-15 shows, kind of like a personal air show. Then, "they" moved the planes? Did Obama do that? Why did he move my planes?
William C. Hughes
bloggy "postscript": I shunned e-mail in favor of USPS for a long time, because rotten defence types watched every keystroke, marched around, and looked, for eight damn years (2002-2010) very much like they were gong to murder me. How many times have I been asked, "Do you want to overthrow the United States Government?" Too many times, and it is not a "cocktail party" question, is it? "Bill" was amused by this, and of course said, "Are you kidding? No!" WILLIAM V is pissed-off, and you should not piss off the you-know-what, Cuckoo-Birds, should you?
2. The “MAFIA GIRLS” (self-admitted), arrive for Canasta.
3. “T[ ]” left to go snitch on a wretched spook, I have no doubt, after basically accusing me of wanting to kill someone when YOU CAN’T HEAR ME, EVEN IF I SAID IT. What I said, after “T[ ]” amended “yelling” to talking “loud,” which is “Spy Talk,” and none of the computer spy’s business, was, USA, you are getting new legal terms soon, like “Normal Acoustic Means” and, oh Lord, you will learn about “Damping,” "Decibels," “Baffles,” “Ambient Noise,” plus satellites & stuff. Want missiles, too? You'll get them up your butt, if I don't hear what one family Chieftain called, SILENCE!!!
4. Now, 4:13 p.m. Nassau time (Bahamas, not NY), where I have lots of money and a way to get it (hint, hint).
5. Get ready, get set, and now, jack the computer passwords, so I am still “incommunicado under the Negro.”
6. The Maf-IA Billiard Room has reopened ahead of schedule, after, I think, DIA boys installed some .gov bugs in there. This is good, in my opinion, and that is all that matters, a—hole. (However, revisions in U.S. Law allowing the Defence Intelligence Agency to run "wild" in the land does take away traditional “Dark Side” business. Maybe this is just a big labor dispute, eh?)
7. And by all means, prepare to say I am "crazy," and not the you-know-what of you-know-where.
A four murder threat day (07.20.10), followed by rather realistic-looking choreography on the Murder Inc. stock market today (07.21.10) = more true stories, in hoping I get my Talking Heads album by the same name back--soon!
VEILED (not really) MURDER THREAT ROUND-UP
1. SOURCE: R.T. "That is not an option at this point."
2. SOURCE: D.R. "It was supposed to get fixed today, but I don't think so."
3. SOURCE: "N" Negro "It's coming soon."
4. SOURCE: Anonymous, to M.W. "'Ya win some, 'ya lose some."
What are they talking about, California lawmen? Murder conspiracies no one, to my knowledge, lifts a finger to prevent, but given the "spying quotient" on the Left Coast, I've got to figure they are infiltrated but good. Why did my handwritten screenplay take a dip in the creek? Instinctive it was to pull an HP computer with the last remaining accessible files of my life's work out of the water, increasing the risk of slipping under the shoulder-deep muck.
Hey morons, somebody doesn't like me breathing out here in CA, and this goes back to the family-famous "blue baby" episode, where legend had it our dead parakeet Willie was the alert to check on baby William. Bye, bye Maf-IA, as the missiles will say H-U-G-H-E-S on them once more, and this potential P-O-T-U-S just might order them to travel up your anal canal, then explode.
Drown? Me? If the crater lake in Thun, Switzerland didn't get me in 1977, you're not, scumbag. Yesireee Bob, thanks to my homeless state, the fall in the creek, and some Hispanic kids looking to retrieve a ball in said creek, I can ask, before having you all tossed in prison, "Where does the water come from?" Major clue it is, as are the electromagnetic locks that bar the door silently. "Safety latch" no workee, and this is a "safe" city?
There's no security in this here territory, and if you don't believe me, ask "The Cops," who according to a homeless local Shaman, will investigate a murder only if it is, "Like throwing trash out the window of your truck. If they see it, they might do something about it." He's the local boy, and he said it, not me. Back to the killing doors, what are those dents in the metal, as with somebody trying desperately to get back in? I'm no Sherlock, but it looks like in Thousand Oaks, California, when you are "out," you might be permanently out of luck.
Want more? Sorry, no more, because as with HH, I am not .gov, I am not .mil, and I would like to be .org again so I can run for president, if you all don't mind. Yep, they are so slick, the whole story of the "CRPD" is on the wall. However, I do not look at it, because I am more concerned with ripping out our fake "wall" at the United States Department of Justice, and how about the Secret Service Agent who I believe hopped a wall in Dallas, Texas a long time ago.
As I like to boast to all .gov crooks, "You'll get the [discharge] e-mail," someday.
MAFIA NON-VERBAL DEFAMATION 2.0
Here we go kids, into the gutter. Ready? "Set?"
1) THE SKATEBOARD NEARBY. MOBBY EXPLANATION: I am "skating" on what crime? Ask the "Great Cop Computer in the Sky"--there are none.
2) SCOOTERS. MOBBY EXPLANATION: I'm "scooting" to an illicit empire. No, I'm scooting to the Eagleton Federal Courthouse, after Obama is a private citizen once more (sooner than you think), and don't close the courthouse early, as that Yale prankster Bush did to me in Washington, D.C.
3) KISSING & HUGGING, or PDA's (Public Displays of Affection). MOBBY EXPLANATION: A girlie mobster is protecting me, and we are lovie-dovie. No, you are getting arrested and prosecuted.
4) CHILDREN & BABIES NEARBY. MOBBY EXPLANATION: No shooting my ass today. No, of course not, because it is you who are hypnotized, crazy, or a "weenie." I'm not brave, but I do, however, want my capital--NOW.
5) OPEN DOORS. MOBBY EXPLANATION: Get in the limo, car, or SUV and all will be well. Oh yeah? From in front of the North Hollywood Post Office during May, 2008, to creeps in the Janss & Moorpark area of Thousand Oaks recently, you are deluded, not me. Get in the car? I'll see St. Peter when I'm good and ready, you greasy ass h-les.
6) BENDING & STOOPING. MOBBY EXPLANATION: The message is, "You can sneak up behind me; you are not my enemy." Oh yeah? Don't you want to buy HUGHES SCREENPLAY #8, where the female running a happy family for an oh so likable candidate turns out to be a "deep cover" spy, gets hubby blown away following the...ahem...California Primary, and as he is dying, he asks, "Why did you do it?" Final line of the script, please....."It's my job." Now...three, two, one...steal it! And, don't give me a dime, HollyMafia. Yeah, mobby cowpoke, make my day.
7) TEENAGERS PLAYING NEARBY. MOBBY EXPLANATION: I am a "teen," because I am new to the world of spying, and to make this point, local Mob Kids will make like unruly juvenile delinquents as they play, because their moms & dads are Master Race Mafia, therefore, their offspring do whatever they want, especially constantly try to steal more from Hughes. Good "Scrubby Dutch" Lutherans, eh? Why do your kids get left on the curb when a "T.O." home gets foreclosed on? "Where did mom and dad go?" I've asked more than once. They reply with pale, already drug abuser faces (at age 12-16), "I've got their cell phone number." Yes, until VERIZON or SPRINT turns it off. What then? People, this is worse out here than you may think, and Grapes of Wrath pales in comparison, if you ask me. I thought Obama was a case of "Carternomics" all over again, but it is worse. Far worse.
FINE PRINT NOTE TO USA's APATHETIC JUDICIAL SYSTEM: It's starting to look like a deeply embedded "they" really wants to kill me now, not just run what I nicknamed, "One-Act Plays." Thanks for not much.
Are you ready for my story of the friendly ex-AT&T "Verizon Man" who gave up quite a bit about Big Telecom spyin' that you so-called "rational" people don't think goes on. Yes, it payed for me to keep "Ma Bell" and gain a helpful defector in conquering Concord, New Hampshire. This will come in handy if we all live to see January, 2012.
Time is the enemy of the Hughes, so let's wrap up one fact: No more than twenty-eight (28) consecutive days are allowed in a California hotel. So, when I checked-out of the America's Best Value hotel for one night as recommended by "Doris," the disappearing manager from Panama, when you depart on a Sunday in the a.m., then return after a James Bond movie-worthy 24 hours at the Holiday Inn Express, it absolutely cannot:
A) Be Thursday
B) Then be Tuesday
C) Then be Thursday again--in less than 48 hours
Hey USA & EU, let's drop the "crazy" talk and may I please talk to some Quantum Physicists, before they are selling "Wormhole Generators" at Best Buy. And, to much dismay, even my best California helper does not know who "they" are. The problem? Many "they's," both public and private, with sci-fi technologies today that spawned from mine. Yes, mine, as in property rights, private property, privacy, inheritance, DNA, the Law, which is non-existent in California without big mobbies in tow, and this will all be true tomorrow as well, just like the cup of better than in the 1970's McDonald's coffee will be .64 cents U.S. (if you have enough gray hair for the "Senior Discount).
Ready, Mafia? The missile shall say HUGHES on it again, and we'll get into that more tomorrow, because as is so often the case, hackers robbed me, not of money, which I do not have (yet), but time. Meantime, I'll see you at the 2014 Super Bowl later this morning, you idiots.
Meanwhile, HARVARD LAW, YALE LAW, CORNELL LAW, STANFORD LAW, etc. etc. etc. should batten down the hatches for Hughes instruction in what I am calling "Mafia Nonverbal Defamation of Character," and I'm just a bit fed up with it. So, here's the "plan." 1) Jam Big Ben at 6 a.m.; 2) Light-off a smoke bomb up by the gears to make all assume it is the work of evil A-rabs; 3) Knock down the London-town power grid; 4) Pull up to Parliament in a truck full of POLAND WATER; 5) Sit at the door in my grubby Ventura County homeless man garb, and to mimic APOLLO 13-talk, in preparation for negotiations by candlelight (a Willie IV touch), I shall say, "Kingdom, we've got a problem."
And then, when I take a break from simple crown duties and get elected President of the United States, the language cited below.....I've just never seen it, never heard of it, and if you disagree, my black powder pistol comes off the wall in the Oval Office. As St. Louis sportscaster JACK BUCK once famously hollered, "It's happening....again."
20 Stat. L., 145June 18, 1878CHAP. 263 - An act making appropriations for the support of the Army for the fiscal year ending June thirtieth, eighteen hundred and seventy-nine, and for other purposes.SEC. 15. From and after the passage of this act it shall not be lawful to employ any part of the Army of the United States, as a posse comitatus, or otherwise, for the purpose of executing the laws, except in such cases and under such circumstances as such employment of said force may be expressly authorized by the Constitution or by act of Congress; and no money appropriated by this act shall be used to pay any of the expenses incurred in the employment of any troops in violation of this section And any person willfully violating the provisions of this section shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor and on conviction thereof shall be punished by fine not exceeding ten thousand dollars or imprisonment not exceeding two years or by both such fine and imprisonment.
10 U.S.C. (United States Code) 375
Sec. 375. Restriction on direct participation by military personnel: The Secretary of Defense shall prescribe such regulations as may be necessary to ensure that any activity (including the provision of any equipment or facility or the assignment or detail of any personnel) under this chapter does not include or permit direct participation by a member of the Army, Navy, Air Force, or Marine Corps in a search, seizure, arrest, or other similar activity unless participation in such activity by such member is otherwise authorized by law.
Sec. 1385. Use of Army and Air Force as posse comitatus Whoever, except in cases and under circumstances expressly authorized by the Constitution or Act of Congress, willfully uses any part of the Army or the Air Force as a posse comitatus or otherwise to execute the laws shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than two years, or both.
ANDREA arrived for the daily "Mini Mental Status"--so insulting when I'm learning to fly from photos of instrument panels. I can read, a-holes, as with throttles that say, "MAXIMUM."
g-note: THOMAS J. NOWOTNY and CHARLES J. NOWOTNY both tried to kill me, and failed. Shot to the gluteus maximus? How many days down, and I'm still here? Shot to the jaw, right by the brain? Shortness of breath, of course. Just dental visit anxiety, I thought. I thought wrong, because that's why the dentist was drunk, and his receptionist speechless. No law? No rights? No justice? President Obama, it's time for you to go back where you came from, and I'm not speculating about that place.
Can I describe it? Will anyone believe it? Let's number the nutjob behavior between 9:00 p.m. - 2:00 a.m. on July 14, 2010 & July 15, 2010.
1. The senior center staff member said, "I'll see 'ya Monday" (07.19.10). ("Mafia Code" for "You'll stay alive, because we like you.")
2. The cop car spying in the Park & Ride Lot (read "Harass Hughes Staging Area") made a left turn and went West.
3. The "hollerin' jackass" hollered on Janss Road.
4. Traffic? Where's the ballyard? Disco? Sports Bar? Is there a fire? Celebrity? No, Hughes is going to Ralph's.
5. U-Turns aplenty. Don't hit each other [and blame me].
6. "Get in line," said the Ralph's clerk, because in Thousand Thieves, there is no Customer Service Counter, like in Missouri [Mr. Schnuck, we need to talk]. Nope, you're screwed. (California Mafia Screw count = 3. New Hampshire total? A whole box full. Where's the box? On Olympic Avenue in Los Angeles.
7. Hide? Are you kidding? I was almost run over.
8. Crash! There's the T.O. bottle-toss & broken glass. You missed, jackass.
9. A spy? I'm shocked! Is it "Bobby?" Upon investigation, no.
10. Do spies sit in improbable places and rustle newspaper? Yes; time to go.
11. Varooooom! Almost hit by a California vehicle again. [Rumor holds this is a sport among the California monied class. Hitting and killing homeless people, that is. Wanna go to prison? This is the Royal Policeman, and someone ought to be already worried over one particular Hillcrest B.S. story and corpse].
12. How about watching the traffic ticket worthy short cutters try to hit Hughes? That was fun (not).
13. Oh, here comes the Mafia Drug Pushing Medical Center fake janitor abduction team in their BLACK (of course) pickup truck. Dressed head to toe in black, right? Right! (wasn't it hot today, moron?)
14. Put that girlfriend in the car and grin at Hughes. Are you nuts? I'm not.
15. "Locksmith call," but not. Oh, just sit with your headlights on pointed at me? Are you nuts? I'm not.
16. Drive 60+ m.p.h in a 45 zone? Our valiant policeman sits under trees and awaits his direct deposit. I don't blame him.
17. No headlights at midnight? One word: Mafia!!!
18. No tailights? Breaker, breaker, Smokey's under that tree. Do as 'ya please.
19. One dim headlight, one dim tail light? Mafia Lawyer + PARADISE = anarchy.
20. Drug mules. Of course! Under cover of traffic roar in the sleepy (but not) LA "bedroom community," they snuck up on me. No guns, and they looked as startled as I. Thanks for showing me who's not sleeping and wants cocaine delivery, like pizza. That neighborhood is truly vile. Right boys? Right!
21. Telling stories to the "surveillance gods?" About what? Touchdown! We win! Long three-pointer---SWISH---overtime! Jesus! Will the walk-off bottom of the ninth home run ball ever come down? I was there. Who tried to kill me? Him, too? Why doesn't it work? Why can't "they" get it done? "Vampire"? Are you nuts? What kind of town uses "E.T." as a pejorative in juvenile name-calling? One that maybe has too much money, and too much time on its hands. The lady who looked to be from The Philippines said it, not me: "They're rich, and they sit on their asses!"
Have a safe weekend.
Not Howard's grandson, Nazis? Not Howard's grandson, Commies? Oh, "they" hate my stories, don't they? I strode purposefully down the hall, pulled the manual out, opened the mike, said what I was supposed to say. Then, I powered-down our mighty 2,000 watts, leaned back in the control room chair, figured as did "Worf" on Star Trek, "It's a good day to die," turned-on a monitor for the real St. Louis, Missouri civil defense station, heard a commercial, and thought, "Why am I heaaring that? I thought we're getting nuked."
RING, RING. It was my Communications Arts professor. He said, "Turn the radio station back on, Hughes," but what he could not say was, "Your grandpa is pissed at the Department of Defense, so he shot a space-based LASER at one of their early warning satellites." In 1974? As Jed Clampett would say, "Woah doggies!" And I can't figure out anything in 2010? Yes, I can, such as I passed a "test" by being so nonchalant about potential "incoming" ICBM's. Who stole the yellowed copy from that teletype machine?
Who cares, except I'm so "perfect," it "killed" Howard, if 'ya get what I mean.
How quickly we've gone from the Mobby, "You talkin' to me?" to something more like, "You working for me?" I could not have come up with a better billboard than that, and I voted for BILL CLINTON...twice. Not in the same election, a--holes! In 1992 & 1996. Now fair citizens, what is all of a sudden so "controversial" about free speech? Is that a Wi-Fi (spy-fi) antenna on top of the billboard? Nice touch! Can I buy a van with gadgets & stuff to see what all of the rodents are e-mailing about me? No? Why not? It's what? Illegal? Policeman, valiant policeman, what the hell is this?
HE SAID IT, I DIDN'T
"Even a (Milton) Friedmanite free-trader should be able to see the disaster all around us and ask: What benefit does America receive from these mountains of imported goods to justify the terrible damage done to our country and countrymen?...is there any evidence they [Republicans] have learned anything about economics from the disastrous Bush decade? Do they have any ideas for a wholesale restructuring of U.S. trade and tax policy, for a course correction to prevent America's continuing decline?"
Who said it? Pat Buchanan, not me.
Who closed California's mental hospitals? Some said PETE WILSON, some said RONALD REAGAN. Hey dummies: “In 1967, Gov. Ronald Reagan signed the Lanterman-Petris-Short Act (LPS), which went into effect in 1969 and quickly became a national model. Among other things, it prohibited forced medication or extended hospital stays without a judicial hearing."
That's per "Ernie's Place," which is quoting the San Francisco Chronicle. Don't all of Obama's political prisoners love the Internet? I sure do, or I might be caught spray-painting graffiti or something of that nature. The homeless vets in Florida have their own newspaper, I bought it when I was a normal person, but if I tried that in California, it might be a case of, "You're under arrest, for starting an unauthorized newspap.....
Wait a minute, is this a nightmare? I'm not waking up...Hey! Help! Hello. Anybody out there? Did I write a whopper 600 page manuscript called Shame of the Sane about all of that stuff? Yes, and in CA, I got food poisoned at BURGER KING by a Whopper, but complained to the wrong county (Ventura), later discovering that "No U-Turn Capital" Agoura Hills is in Los Angeles County, but I knew already the burger "king" was British. F--- you, too, Prince Charles.
Can you on the street fakers please shut the f--- up about SSI & LSD, because why would I want to talk about either, except to tell your crazy ass how to get on the increasingly popular Social Security gravy train? Did somebody named [what?] say one-third of USA's manufacturing jobs went bye-bye since the trumped-up y2k panic? Hey pal, my Windows 95 clock survived intact, by the way. And, why am I giving out free, unlicensed social service advice all of a sudden? I'm a nice guy? No, I'm not, I 'm a mean, vindictive, SOB who is tired of being artificially short of breath. Dying slowly out here in Kook-LA-land? Yes sir, and nobody gives a rat's ass.
Oh, excuse me, I'm "Bipolar" bad, and forgot to tell the Festus story. California kooks, here is why we've been discussing the cost effectiveness of a friendly mental hospital lately. Did I nearly get murdered for telling a police Captain his 6 or 8 hours of mental health training did not stack-up well against thousands and thousands of (my) highly skilled hours? Water under the bridge, and now, here's the story that should be instructive to Sacramento, but I think they've been busy plotting revolutions and insurrections with GANNETT. Did I say that? Yes, I just did, and I'm not sorry I am right.
After many visits from the policeman, fireman, and EMS, Hughes got the call. Man at nursing home, gonna kill 'em all. I talked to the head nurse first, because this sounded serious. Upon finding the gray hooligan, I saw him...in a wheelchair? Uh, how much damage can you do under those circumstances? Anyway, in about not many minutes, this vet was grinning, because he was simply threatening the staff due to their incompetence, which you are allowed to do if you say it nicer.
On to his game quickly, I was, and "The Deal?" A) Watch his visitors closely, to see that they did not bring in a g-u-n; and B) Treat the man with more respect. Yes, after God only knows how many Jefferson County, Missouri dollars had been spent on 911/EMS response, I went down the road past a.....lime green fire truck. Watching, boys? Doing a little spyin'? Spy firemen? Say it ain't so, Joe! Anyway, follow-up is "key" in social work, especially when spy rats wanted my $2,000,000 AIG insurance coverage to pay out over a dead body or two. AIG? Let's don't talk about them without a roomful of sharks, uh, I mean junkyard dog lawyers--working for me, William Charles Hughes.
Yes, I called the dumb nurse Rached about a month later, and her two-word report on psycho-vet was, "Doing fine."
The inside jokes abound to the point where we've moved beyond, "Know your St. Louis phone exchanges of old" to quiz questions like: "What was William Hughes' first mental health business job?" Answer: Hospital Monitor, as with the Thousand Oaks California public library "Monitor," and the LUTHERAN SS homeless non-program "Monitors."
Did I really have to remember my first passbook savings account book was orange? How old was the Hughes when it was issued? Fifteen (15). Why? He had a j-o-b. Washing pans at the meat market, as I recall, "under the table." Did the money go for pot? No, it went in my Hamilton Savings & Loan account. How about washing I.H.O.P. dishes when sixteen (16) years of age came around? Same. Cooking I.H.O.P. pancakes at eighteen (18)? Same.
Drugs, what drugs? You talkin' to me? How about the tetracycline that made my teeth dull gray, so television networks, prepare for the no-tooth smile, until I see a fancy Westlake Village of the Damned dentist. At eighteen years of age, papa actually signed-off on the account being all mine, and why not, when the light yellow 1968 CHRYSLER NEWPORT had bled away about $1,200 to $300 or so? COMING SOON: The lowdown on all Hughes car vandalism, from my old Chrysler's many fluid leaks (joke? ONLY THE GASOLINE DID NOT LEAK) to the black 07 FORD FOCUS neither end of the CA lawperson's "Sheriff-Cop Combo" ever mentions. How convenient! Should I hit them over the head with the VIN Number? Oops! There's my mug shot! Take a bus to the police station? The bus does not go there? The station is "Up a hill?" You talkin' "spy talk" to me?
Well, the famous Focus did have a HUGHES 2008 bumper-sticker on it, and don't we all know those will be highly sought after collector's items, once someone at PENSKE TRUCK LEASING goes to jail. Got a whole box left after conquering Concord, New Hampshire. Do I have to explain again and again and again that, as New Hampshire Secretary of State Bill Gardner was so quick to point out in-person (it really happened), the Iowa Caucus is not an election, but the Obama staffers streamed out of their Des Moines campaign office to see me go by (I saw 'ya!).
Hey, hey, NSA, can I hear those recordings? Not until I'm president? Okay, I can wait.
Regarding all of the infernal hacking that goes on around here, it was CORNELL UNIVERSITY ex-boss RICH MCDANIEL who said, in 1986, "I can type faster than you." Thanks, Rich, for the mini-golden parachute to hang out with suspected Russian spies. But Rich, I do have two questions: 1) How did you manage to "lose" the 9/11 hijackers in Thailand?; and 2) Why did the likely "Thai Contingent" here claim to be from Mexico? Hillary, do you like my little U.N. out here? It works better than the New York one, but I have no SSI check, chief funding source for spy-slackers, because it is a case of, as I often say, "Not one day of mental disorder in my life." No job? GET REAL!!!!!
It is offensive to own Boeing and vacillate on the "flying thing." I think all of the D-fence industry knows my "DNA test" will be to fly around a bit and land with absolutely no formal instruction. Some ass is going to arrest me? Ever heard of a publicity stunt? Oh, the "Bill Hughes Exception" will require a long prison sentence for that stunt, but gate crashers at the White House get TV shows? I'm nuts? The "men in the white coats" should try knocking at the door of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, if you ask me. Nobody asked, but I sure hope I'm "free" to Google-blog that I think the President of the United States is plenty nuts.
How about a blue & white F-15, International Association of Machinists? Now we're talking, and at risk of sounding like Lohan's dad, never has a so much been made out of two DUI's, a bit of lip reading, and Carls's Jr. salads. Back to CHESTNUT HEALTH SYSTEMS in Granite City, Illinois, circa 2005, I wondered why the History Channel kept showing their "9/11 special" and the "nuclear football" special over and over and over and over.....
Now I wonder who owns the network that owns the history channel, and through the miracle of Soldier Boy's Internet, I am sure I can eventually find out. Memory. Memories. Like a computer, the human brain runs programs in the background and retrieves information. So, nosey Thousand Oaks kook-spooks, what's the latest H-man revelation?
Pilgrims, I told the "back end" of my Richard M. Nixon one month after the moon landing wave right in front of me story long ago, but now, here's the "front end." In my previous piece on AbolishTheCIA.org, I noted Nixon had so much old-fashioned television makeup already on when he drove by in an open vehicle waving, he looked like an anti-war caricature of the real thing. It was an orange-ish hue on that most famous face as he drove by on Market Street near the Cervantes wonder of the world Spanish pavilion, a building locals couldn't figure as to why it went from the World's Fair to near Busch Stadium. It became part of the MARRIOTT later, whatever that might mean.
Back to August, 1969, over my right shoulder was the Buder Building, but I shall not detail any more about that structure, nor the Wainright Building here. Why am I writing about this again? Because after the secret Service guy walked past with a thinner attache case, and I exclaimed to my 14 year-old pal, "Hey! There's a machine gun in there!" another--for lack of better terms--"gaggle," or "huddle" of men with suits on went by.
Yes, they did, and thanks to "Nick Danger" and the Starbucks gang for running the biological RAM by simply tossing a football around on the Janss & Moorpark parking lot. Let's phrase it as a question and comment. Does the United States Government walk the nuclear command & control code "football" past you about 16 feet away, with nothing but air between you and "it?" No, they don't, because you are not Howard Hughes' grandson, are you?
People, it's just another case of, "I saw it, but did not know what it was" (until later, in this case approximately 41 years later). Why did I have to step-off the distance between myself and the football on Janss Road in Thousand oaks, California as a homeless man? Don't know, do you?
p.s. Hey soldiers, how many times was I nearly murdered over HUGHES SCREENPLAY #7 d.b.a. II, because my Rita character steals the nuclear attack codes, and an old gray-haired character in a helicopter over Washington D.C. yells, "The codes, they can't change them!"
It's a screenplay, stupid. Wanna buy it?
Thanks to the Janss & Moorpark Starbucks Gang, plus suspected radiation from what I've termed the "Cuckoo Dish." Oh, you've got ear rings that look like it, boys, and it does not exist? Uh huh. And, "Lion Den Dan" saying, "Your mind is right," doesn't hurt either. Thanks. Excuse me while I put a few more in the Tower of London before running for president. Complicated? Not really.
Martian attack! Take cover, and tune to KMOX 1120 AM, quick! Are you all nuts in California, save Hughes? Sorry, if you drop a bag full of Starbucks food on a dark Ralph's parking lot, I'm thinking IED, as in Iraq. Why don't you hypnotized zombies talk to me?
And, yes, I was in CARL'S JR. last evening on the "Lohan Stool," looking over at the "Hughes Stool," truly amazed at how close that encounter was. Hey LA, nothing is what it looks like, and you crazies wanted it that way? Whew! My political action committee sure has the right name as "People for the Real Deal," but not much "action" (of any kind, Mafia boys) will be forthcoming on $21.50 a fiscal quarter.
Thanks to the Washington Post (they know me, they don't like me) photo gallery's last shot of Lohan leaving the courthouse. A few dozen video cams and maybe a few hundred still cameras for an average talent (slap me later, girl) DISNEY wench? How about some legal "fine print" before we spar in court over the theft of my intellectual property, "mind games," criminal conspiracies, torture tactics, neo-Nazis, Walt & Howard, etc. etc. etc.
Ah, the essential questions in life, such as: "Lindsey, was it a 'Classic Chicken' or 'Southwest' Chicken'?" And, how about a question for the producers of Machete? "Is dropping Lohan from the trailer a death threat?" This is Mr. Hughes, and I think it is, so you'd better get to a safe place, like the jailhouse.
As the Hughes HH eyes were cast upward, and I was about to say, "No," there was the "prompt" of, "You know, like strange dreams, ghost stories, things like that." Oh, I get it honey, like the JOHN LENNON haunting. It's a bit like my o-n-e (1) UFO sighting in Colinga, California during August, 2008 (exact date stolen, of course). Ho, ho, ho! Didn't the USAF run to their satellites and say, "Holy cow, Batgirl! That one was real!!!" (Unlike the Army Boy drones above Lake Cayuga in 1986).
CAUGHT! It's the favorite word in the Hughes alphabet. Is Obama still there? No rush.
MI-6, you have my apologies, because I totally forgot about the 7/7 anniversary, which here in VENTURAKOOK COUNTY is easy to do when tailed by DTS DIGITAL and suspected Russian Sailor Boys. The Negro in Chief is sending inexperienced Russian spies back where they came from? That's nice. In my world, I noticed Mata Hari's real name is the same as the name of the 7/7 "Terror Coach." Coach, like on Cheers. Chicago? She hid there, and then, down I-55, the ever dramatic Saint Louis School Board maybe caused their computer to have some sort of a glitch, as computers tend to be beset with problems, unlike a simple sheet of paper. Especially when spies want them to go on the fritz, the computer is "down," like when the NSA allowed hijackers into San Diego. Fritz? Fellahs, you always remember your first "Donna" fondly, don't you? I'm sorry I'm so good at this, but not really.
Hey Arnold, on behalf of all SSI fakers, I thank you for the extra $300 in those checks, or these days, it's a direct deposit, like the policeman's pay. I am not sucking-up to the policeman, because around here, I don't like him at all. Meanwhile, back at the CLAYTON, MO ranch, I've decided, though the police cars may be green & white, and brag the coppers are "Internationally Accredited," they stink, too.
Let's go to court with the following exchange at my former cigar shop, caddycorner from the old Saint Louis County Police Station:
CIGAR CLERK: "We know this one (Hughes) is okay, but what about the other one?"
CHIEF BYRNE: "Aw, she's alright."
What does "alright" mean, and who is "she?" Gulfstream Jet-chasing lawyers, I suspect you know these things. Byrne, like David Byrne of the U.K.'s 1970's & 1980's sensation TALKING HEADS? I bought their LP albums and CD's, but they've been "detained" in Los Angeles. All affiliated mafias should know I will pay reasonable storage costs, but not large "M" Mafia ransom bucks to get them, and my few sticks of furniture back. Even the new Prime Minister back home made fun of my furniture in a real, not photoshop tricked photo, so at least somebody important feels my pain, and it helps when they are a Head of State. (But it's only the EU, and as I've said, the British Empire ain't what it used to be).
The way these blasted intel types play it, I'm supposed to be happy I'm not detained, but for what? Policeman wants my birthday lately, not an ID. When I offered my Social Security Number, the policeman said, "Nah, we don't want that." You don't want my SSN? Take my credit score, please! Didn't I threaten to put it on the break room wall at 5300 Arsenal Street back in 2006-2007 when it was still okay to joke like that?
The nutcases in California act like we're rushing into World War III, and what am I supposed to do about it operating out of Ralphs Cart 729? "I have fine screenplays for sale," and that's an Ask Not joke, from the script of mine that has an Orthodox Jew terrorist bad guy who sort of gets away with it, but not. Rita's the spygirl franchise if 'ya want one, and while she does get killed by the bad Jew, she comes back, and you'd think--judging from all of the nasty soldiers I've seen not in Iraq, but right here--the Pentagon doesn't know you are allowed to do this in the movies.
Yes, people die and are not dead, E.T.'s might well come to save the day, and time travel is a distinct possibility, particularly as an "old as the hills" screenwriter trick to resolve plot twists. I did not travel to Hollywood intending to reinvent the wheel, or get killed by some crank on SSI. Trivia Question: How many states supplement SSI? Alaska = secret prisons, and California = get cuckoo, get paid!!!
Nine hundred bucks to sit on your asses, get drunk, smoke pot, and I am informed by people who would know hallucinogens never went out of style? Why not make "Driving onder the influence of [fill-in the blank] the same as a DUI? This plan is "Dave the Cop Approved," because once upon a time I had a lawman advisor, and when he moved out of "The Bughouse" on Rita, he said, "No more free police protection for you." He really did, CA spies, but to his detriment, the promised e-mail address was not left behind, as were the USAF neighbor guy's old, dried dog turds.
Am I getting more "conservative," or could you all be that crazy out here? I think it's the latter, and at least one old dude said I'm going to be on TV. Is he right? Don't know, but by all means, enjoy your Supplemental Security Income financed crack rocks (until I get elected president, scuttle the Earned Income Credit, and switch it to a Nixon from beyond the grave Negative Income Tax (NIT). See, rotten, low-down, gov'ment types, I really was a bureaucrat, so I can make up acronyms and run for president, too.
My "be nice and volunteer at the senior center" resume DISAPPEARED? Thanks for the tip, and "Who's goin' to jail?" because I'm still here, Murder Inc.
Where is the U.S. News & World Report with my letter defending JESSIE JACKSON SR.? In the seized PENSKE TRUCK, of course! I never rented the truck from Uncle who's moving and storage? Bob's! The spy's computer was nicknamed what? Bob! In my HUGHES SCREENPLAY #8 (already famous), what does the fictional president's intercom say? Oh, that would be, "Bob's here." What happened to the real Bob's U.S. Army file? "They" burned it! Who are they? Don't ask me, because I do not spy, I only catch 'em.