Pay to have dinner with Clinton? No, he's buying. What is his spouse up to? Christian Science Monitor said, "On the Brink of War." New York Times said, "Got a Little Shellin' Goin' On," and don't you know the Jerusalem Post put it way behind other top stories...like the president splitting his lip, and have I pointed out, ad nauseum, that I just don't spy on nobody?
I think I have. On with the show.
Yes, the local girl slammed all glittering Hollyscummytown scent salesgirls with one line: "She doesn't matter." And, I am chopped liver, apparently. Tick tock, tick tock..... Now, we are talking time travel, Mr. Coast to Coast producer, but the Premier Radio Network & Premier Inn rational association is rather obvious, because George's Saint Louis studio is on the same plaza where I saw Network on a cold January, 1977 evening, on high recommendation from Professor Williams. Williams, California? Arnold, the "Polar Bear Bar" had already burned down, and as for the not quite abductors from Plano, Texas, it has been hinted to me that story will help revive Jay Leno's career. Oh, by the way, the 1977 "blond bombshell" was not from outer space. No, she's not.
However, the president might be. And if so, does that matter? No! Because with 24 months until Election Day, and about 26 months remaining in a theoretical rest of the Obama Administration, he's already as lame a duck as we shall ever see residing at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Where's that grad school paper I got an "F" on as a bad joke from Professor HINKLEY, on what? Parliament vs. Congress, and how do you spell the almost shot Reagan dead guy's name? HIN'C'KLEY. What's my middle name? Charles. "C," like cat? Don't say that! Hughes, like Howard? Let's don't go there, unless you have a J.D. and a slightly worn leather briefcase. Hughes like Larry? In my opinion, which is all that matters, he never lived up to his potential in the NBA. Hughes like Matt Hughes? Too violent.
VIOLENCE. Headless gangster in the Thousand Oaks VON's lot? Do you want that? Headless bodies dumped en mass at the Promenade? Not my problem, unless I get to run for office, and did I not warn USA of all that crap in my completed 12/2005 still unpublished book? Drug war? Gang war? Civil War? World War? Ron, Jack, Richard, William, Pamela, and maybe Senator F-girl can think this over in comfort, while I freeze my ass off and battle my "Virus of the Week," behind the rear (admiral) of a public building.
Is anybody going to believe this? They'd better. Why? Admiral Willie is here. The "Spitting King" is here. Don't think "bipolar," young thugs, try renting Beckett. "Oh, now I get it," they shall say. Eyes like Howard? Nose like the "other William?" Jaw line like William IV? Get real! Get over your addictions! Get a (real) life! No job? Perhaps I can help. Movie cast & crew? Not very original. Partner with a deefense/deefence company that advised me on the mighty HP C-300 and showed me a photo of a rocket scientist of some renown? What did I say? "How could he dress like that?" (No NASA white shirt & skinny tie). The answer was/is, his boys smuggled plans out of Nazi Germany, and William V does not smuggle at all.
May I build a rocket, please? This was done on Melanie Street in Bellefontaine Neighbors, Missouri (Don't say Missour-ah) 1966-1967 with great success, and someone (USAF perhaps) stole it. Every launch, rocket burn, course correction, orbital insertion, descent, ascent, and "Will the rocket burn to get home?" burn, I was there. And I've been nearly asphyxiated how many times? WELCOME TO WORLD WAR III.