Red! Nobody Home!

A "royal" clue from 1976? Spygirls go to prison--no exceptions, right Hollywood part-timers? Right! BTW, when does Lohan get out? For real? Eight feet apart, and don't ask about the Disney girls, due to "pending litigation," but I will ask, "Where's the security cam video?" You see, I can file a lawsuit, and what do I want? The "T&A" division of Disney at the movies. No? See you in court, Walt.

The entire WorldWideSpook-a-Thon awaits my explanation for the title to this piece. Meantime, I told www.ic3.gov, but I guess unless it it involves money, they won't arrest spoiled rich bisexual kids with rags on their heads for hacking computers. Welcome to the Hughes Administration, where someday the policeman will pull-up with and extra junior college class or two under his or her belt, the right gear in the car, and your hackin'/spyin' neighbor will be arrested on the spot. Oh, and they all know now my favorite soda pop is DR. PEPPER, not because it was/is "so misunderstood," but rather due to the fact it is not cola, root beer, or lemon lime. May my all-new Justice Department interview the "CIA Hippie" @ that NH Cumberland Farms store about how one mere Sprite would fix my poisonings. No, I am not a "vampire," I know what you are trying to do, and consequently: a) I did not breathe much of it; or b) I did not drink much of it. The CIA Hippie was unfazed by most of the "Presidential Primary, Hughes is being 'framed' again fun," but for the record, he did come out and stand with his hands on his hips and look concerned when a coked-up Army boy buying beer was threatening me. We squared-off as Col. Nutt ranted about what spygirls eat for dinner, when I am dumb enough to pick up the tab. A muttering of "What the f--- is wrong with you?" was all I could get out as he ranted about "babies," then hopped in the car and took off with the enlisted men looking embarassed in the back seat. Son, you don't want to be me. No, you don't.

What did grandma say as I ate many of these burgers at age 5 or 6? "You've got a hole in your leg." May I run for president? Then, you can try to put a hole in my head, but not before that time, please. A movie called White Palace? What a "coincidence" it was filmed at [REDACTED by "Duchess the Dog"] and I was not invited to the set? Oh, I get it, because that was the guy who also stored the big, green, very old [REDACTED my HILLBILLY HORSESHOE PITCHERS]
I won't win New Hampshire? ATTENTION ALL REPUBLICAN CANDIDATES! You must know your old S.W. Bell St.L phone exchanges. You must know your suburban St.L geography.
You must know, as do I, the behavior of "Good Old Boys" in Jefferson City. You must know Bill Gardner, like me. And, you must know the location of every DUNKIN' DONUT shop in New Hampshire. Now, get to work!

brief addendum: In the misty future, when you change the word "shop" to "shot," you might get shot by me, with my already famous among robo-spies Presidential Black Powder Pistol, which I will shoot at the wall when I want, then ring-up the maintenance staff to say, "I'm pissed at Congress...come patch the hole." Are they on the park benches in England, reading the paper, acting like nothing is going on, then one lowers the paper and says to the other, "It's happening, again."

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