Q: "How nuts are the stalkers that follow Mr. Hughes?"
A: Nuttier than Ronald, my mental patient, who spent all of his SSI money renting Bette Davis VHS tapes from SCHNUCKS, and tossed his TV in the dumpster, more than once. His favorite? The Snake Pit, of course. Here in Thousand Oaks, it's so bad, at first it was aviation they liked to babble about right in front of me, and now it's movie directors, because I set a deadline for script sales, and it passed--not me. Now, look for Hollywood Cried Poor: Five Screenplays by That Hughes, in book form. Did I win an argument about the longevity of the paper book with some CIA guy who "lost" the 9/11 hijackers in Thailand? Yes, I did! Books; we still hold them in our hands and read them, not batteries required. As we shall see soon in another venue, only I can do that. Why does a guy who stalks me have his phone ring like in one of my screenplays? Which one is it? I have not seen them lately "incommunicado under the Negro" (president, that is). What kind of "liberal fascism" is this you've got out here? Adios!
Don't "they" get it? Who could turn around the nasty old Forth District, with all of their "spies can do no wrong" decisions? Why, the old spooks filing lawsuits were essentially told for decades, "You signed-on, and we can screw you as much as we like." "Dark Side?" What Dark Side? You talkin' to me? Romney, McCain, J. Bush, Rudy G.; rig for being rammed midships. I'm tired of this crap!