I'll Get Stats, Baby

How many car accidents? How many sick calls? AMR is mine after a little paperwork, because any competent attorney knows you can't park ambulances on my walking route as a homeless LUTHERAN SS Zombie, house gayboy crews together in apartment complexes, then "give it up" a year later when I asked an am-bull-ance crew the question. No, you cannot bring the ambulance home overnight, except to send the following "spy messages" to a homeless Mr. Hughes: 1) You are "crazy" and we are taking you away; 2) We are Maf-IA and going to shoot you, just like in Casino. Where's Sharon Stone when you need her, because "The Cops" don't care about much around here. "GOLD COAST," "MCCORMICK," "PRN," "SCHAEFER"...see, they are already trying to run me out of business, and I don't even have AMR yet.

07.16.10
1:46 p.m.
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.