"They" seem to await the great tome, America, What Don't You Understand About Homeless? written by homeless me. I am Howard's grandson for real, and maybe William V, yet these Mafia(s) just don't care. It has gotten so bad, apparently "they" are going to pass on hundreds of millions of net movie profit, figuring quite correctly that unless I hit the "Show Me" State's university libraries, surprisingly excellent public libraries, plus, of course, the law library at Eagleton, I will never amount to doodly-squat.

Would you also like more scholarly toil to produce a book on how an American society based on nuclear weapons & nuclear families has crumbled, then another one on RICHARD M. NIXON, and I can't get a $1,000 Festus, Missouri, Bottle Rockets approved car with a book advance?Have space aliens invaded New York publishing houses?

I think not; I think most of California is nuts. Voodoo? I don't go there. Drugs? What drugs? SSI/SSD suggesters, you are going to get, "Whopped up the side of your dumb-assed head" if I hear it one more time. Did I really go to the SSA office at "80 Hillcrest" for my lifetime earnings report, and some dumb Obama-infatuated negro would not give me one? True story, as they all are, but the big well-paid black one was happy to give me a printout about SSI. Am I speaking Russian?" I've started to say.

Ah, the spy is deaf. The spy is from outer space. The spy is a creature from a black lagoon. No, it is merely another stupid spy, and who the f--- is paying you? Follow the money, Ding-Dong--it will work as well as during the last period the president mistook himself for a god, and/or was wildly nuts. Did my "black" money pay for The President's Analyst?I thought so, and the new VON's manager who looks like Godfrey Cambridge is yet another bad joke.If only it were that easy, like the movie plot.

Speaking of movies, if I may be allowed to take another breath in Torturetown, CA 91362, in the suburbs of KookLAland, "they" all want to know the plot to HUGHES SCREENPLAY #9, a gem of a sequel I dare not start until$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$oh, excuse me, the key got stuck or something malfunctioned technically.

Those darn computers! They have a mind of their own around here, which is why my old chums at http://www.ic3.gov/ will get a holler when I have time.

What do you already know from mysterious little devices, mind-reading, and so forth? a) This one will cost nine figures; and b) The locations are D.C. (again), Buenos Aires, Sao Paulo, and some "I'm getting paid ten million, I wanna go home," Ecuadorian jungle.