Ice Mice

Real .gov's? In PINE LAWN, MO? Girl, you could use a trip to the cosmetics counter. As for the guy, what a hunk! And, for the 999,999th time, USAF, I am not gay, and you've got the video to prove it (really prove it, if 'ya get what I mean, girls).
Rattle, rattle, thunder clatter, boom, boom, boom, where is that CAR-X Man who rigged my brakes to lock? Need a job? Try BILL'S BRAKE SHOP.....Coming soon.

"They" really hate the truth, they don't like me on their public computers (DELL 755's), and they've had a year + to finance the repair of my HP C-300, so I must conclude California has sneakily seceeded from the Union. U.S. Law simply does not apply to anything Hughes-related, and by gosh, it's enough to make me wish the aircraft company had been founded in Texas, perhaps down the road from HUGHES TOOL COMPANY.
Drama! Drama! Haven't you seen a trillionaire held political prisoner in a semi-public park he's in part paying for, dining on Food Stamp funding, while trying to not just impeach and possibly try the president, he & spouse are getting locked-up for a long time. Why? Me, a "hothead?" Heavens no. It's all about "Central Intake." Too much typing time for that story, so let's switch the play under center, and tell the "Kill Them Both" story, a favorite procedure in our rotten U.S. Intelligence Community.
FACTS: Early 1995. I-70, Eastbound near the old Army munitions plant @ Riverview Drive, Saint Louis, Missouri. My vehicle? A 1990 Mazda 323 hatchback. The Passenger is MICHAEL P., the "schizophrenic" client who was supposed to kill me, then get killed later, or we both get killed simultaneously, back when Mr. President and our First Lady had a temp job as drug counseling staff at "Central Intake." Private joke? The agency was in the shadow of a building where I feared Charles H. would jump off the balcony after DEE G. tossed him out of #5, due to my taking up residence on SIXTH (6th) Street post college diploma (which I barely attained due to intensive 1976-77 psy-op).
During my gridlocking of NYC in 2008, "We got a six! We got a six!" yelled the shapely female in Broklyn, after she had stared in my face a few seconds. Yes, it's the real one, and please, "Get real, USA!!!" The vehicle in front of my center lane of three traveling Mazda hit a pothole, skidded on I-70 ice, and started 360 degree pinwheeling--right in front of us. H-man checked the rear-view mirror. Tractor-trailer truck one inch off the bumper? Coincidence? Tell it to the Senate trial, Obama. H-man checked his driver side mirror. Blocked in! Quick, check the passenger side mirror! Vehicle approaching fast--do something! H-man tapped lightly on the brakes to dry them. Car ahead now about to clip the front of the Mazda--
Slow car slightly.
Hit gas, cut-off car on right.
Disengage clutch.
ICE--no braking.
Downshift again.
Disengage clutch.
Coast to shoulder.
Just another icy I-70 pile-up, but not.
When the "tinkle, tinkle" stopped, Michael, with eyes wide like a Three Stooges racist stereotype, shouted:
"Bill, you 'da man!"
Because, we were still alive. [And BTW, Mafia can f--- off]
I am still alive.
This has nothing to do with Barack & Michelle posing as "drug counselors" on the staff of "Central Intake" a few months prior to this non-accident?
Get those Articles of Impeachment going, before I do something rash, like have sexual intercourse with an "Agent of a Foreign Power."

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