I thought the graph of Orville & Wilbur to Space Shuttle was instructive, but what they've got now at the right end of that diagram is, as one of my favorite Beatles songs goes, "Too much, too much, too much, too much....." No wonder you all smoke pot. Did real pilots help with typing up my plane crash scene? Yes. What tower was I listening to? Sorry, Charlie, this tuna is not writing much down any more, kinda like Harry Truman. Uh, don't argue with me, because I went through his files, and you probably did not. "We're [all] on the localizer?" Really? I'm just not talking "spy code," and I did not time travel to the scene above. Taken your meds today? Good!
It seems like a very long time ago, a suspected Mafia Man en route to the pool hall poignantly handed me a copy of The Acorn. As with many things in or near the Ventura/Los Angeles County "Bermuda Triangle," I noted the newspaper was published in [no U-Turn!] Agoura Hills, but the content was all about my [the locals call it a "brain fart," as I wonder if I detest the people, the place, or both] temporary community of Thousand Oaks, California, a place that might still be in the USA--stand by as we transition from Arnold to Jerry.
What happened in "T.O." on November 7, 2010? I wasn't there, but I reviewed the Sheriff's Blotter in The Acorn. As for "Blotter" LSD back in the day, it was a Thousand Oaks man in the know who told me that stuff was not made correctly and was not really LSD. Ready for a new H-Blog Feature? It's time for "DEA Q&A." Our first question is, "Who got blotter LSD for the Bellefontaine Neighbors/Moline Acres gang?" A: "Dark Side" CIA. It's a bit like an FBI man getting about a half gram of cocaine, and somebody named "Gary" got the other half gram, bringing the total Citizen Hughes lifetime coke consumption figure to roughly one gram. Please, for those unschooled about drug stuff, don't lie like a Thousand Oaks ninny did by saying, "That's a lot!"
People of USA, EU, China, Russia, and ships at sea, I would not know firsthand, but I believe that is what a "cokehead" uses in one evening of NORTH HOLLYWOOD, HOLLYWOOD, BURBANK, GLENDALE, BEVERLY HILLS action. And, if you don't believe me, go to Paris, and I'm not talking about France.
Returning to the scene of the crimes, at "nine to five," or 925 South someplace or other, a 28 year-old male was reportedly drunk in the parking lot at 12:10 a.m., so since you can't do that, it's just not allowed...BUSTED! Later, two 22 year-old males were stupid enough to start battering at 1:49 a.m., and this is truly not allowed, leading to...BUSTED//BUSTED, again on the parking lot. Let us not divert to the antics on this august community's parking lots--agreed? Okay. Next, a 23 year-old male who apparently thought you can mess with a Sheriff in a cop car was...guess what? BUSTED! for obstructing justice at 2 a.m.
Oh, no, no, no, we're not done yet, because what would a night of debauchery be without what I've termed the rather radical local "Pee Where You Stand" procedure? Public parking lot? 2:10 a.m.? BUSTED! Oh, they don't get it, as we concluded the evening's activities with a 23 year-old female, who, at 2:49 a.m. was...guess what? BUSTED for battery! A girl, excuse me, woman, of that age beating ass near 3 a.m.? Outrageous! [And, may I have her cell phone number?] Following our night out, may I borrow a Missouri State Patrol big Merc cop car? Not yet? I thought we were finally making a movie! No? Not yet?