We're Worried About You

"When are you going to Seattle?," the big Go-bell ass with a place in the desert just said (@1:52 p.m.). Time for Trivia Q's:
Q: "What city blows up in HUGHES SCREENPLAY #7?"
A: "Seattle, Washington."
I'm a bit "worried" about the home town, because I can't seem to get out to Cali-fornia, nor do I want to, all of a sudden. I really saw the stars I saw close-up and impersonal. Provincial hoosiers with the same genes can holler "Aphasia!" all they want; I refer you to my not-yet-a-journal piece on SHIRLEY ALLEN, who held off the Illinois State Police with her shotgun, and must not have been too sick, because she was out of the loony bin pronto. Later, the lawman who dealt with Shirley caught the Washington D.C. area post-9/11 world snipers? The same night I did not get shot outside of a FL sub shop? (PLAN WAS: i. Jump through plate-glass window; ii. Set-off alarm). Am I James Bond? No! May I call Senator Kit Bond? The latter q remains a mystery, because I don't have a cell phone, due to:
a) The phone's power adapter being crushed in the Lutheran church.
b) The phone later being stolen in the Lutheran church.
c) My childhood friend Barry saying, "Don't trust Lutherans."

I should have listened to Barry, but after one of those, "You believe in Jesus, we do too," conversations with the "Smith Boys" (corner of Angelica & 22nd Street), I was conned out of my shorts--again.

Gullible no more, it shall be "Iggy Pop meets Richard Nixon," and "they" are actually getting scared. HUGHES DIRECTIVES:
1) Do not blow-up the ballyard because "Stan the Man" will reportedly be there on Saturday, October 2, 2010. ANCILLARY FACTS: Soldier Boy showed me an e-obit on Stan about a year ago; welcome to the H-life. I regularly check stock prices, and depending who you click on, the closing price is different. Gotcha again, because I worked at a stock firm, and the closing price does not change, or did Obamanomics alter that? Trading after the bell? Scoundrels! Number kooks! Curses to mankind! Yes, the old ball game is indeed threatened in my Ask Not, but it's a screenplay! It's only a screenplay! mafia! mafia!
2) Do not blow-up the Rams game on Sunday, October 3, 2010, because they are playing <gasp!> Seattle. [FULL DISCLOSURE: Seattle is in fact nuked & destroyed in HUGHES SCREENPLAY #7, titled II.] Nonetheless, don't send acne cream quality Secret Service when I rant on O-bam-a, because I'd make them some coffee using my moldy "Homeless Man" spoon to stir. Obsessive-Compulsive? Are you nuts? Get a clinical fact; it won't kill you. Yes, you are totally CA nuts, because how about last evening's round of "Find a job (opening), lose the job (link)" on hacked DELL 755's? Working for VC's court? Where do you want me to work? Show money, and I'll do it (drugs & prostitution excepted). Why is the spoon formulation a "secret?" HINT: It has not cracked. Let's go back, back in time. Did I know people who worked as Rams security staff, then I was "taken" (to the game, that is), more than once? Yes! Right behind KEN & BERNIE at the hockey game? Were we on TV? I can see the red light on as a dork, and I will not fail to talk when it comes on as a politician. mafia! mafia! My "T.O." mantra? "They don't talk too much."Nancy signals to "Hold it down out on the Left Coast," until she can burn (read waste) more jet fuel in her proto-Air Force One I thought was a good thing when Bush was losing Supreme Court decisions about declaring U.S. Persons "Enemy Combatants." Yes, she's on the way to talk s*#! about how the near-collapse of capitalism is not such a bad thing when NYU types are slaving away on Gilligan's Island II and yet another vampire movie. If I had $10, I'm about ready for Van Helsing IV, or whatever Roman numeral figure they are up to. Original screenplay? Stick the knife in deeper [robo-hacker changed "stick" to "sick" Genius!] by remaking Hell's Angels and I'm not "attached?" I'll be attached to the EAGLETON COURTHOUSE wall like a barnacle, and Disney, your many Ventu County spies will not know when I'm going to strike.

One date with a bona fide movie star + one melt paint off the walls speech, and I win. As they said at that fine hotel over by a suspicious-looking, guarded by a Wackenhut dyke, aviation-related place in Newbury, the PREMIER INN, "It's easy!"

Excuse me, the wackin' hut is now called "GS4." As Uncle Lawrence yelled, "Let's go home!," and today, William V cries out, "Let's go to court!"