There they go. As I was told in New Hampshire by spooks at the Post Office, "It's like a Western," and I'm not getting out of town until the mafia man shows a willingness to hear me holler, holler, holler, at dumb actresses, but they are welcome in the trailer after a big theatrical cry. Stop crying! And, please move to other "ing" activities you all seem to like so much. New? What's new here? It's worse than a "New York Minute" out here. I'm driving a what? They'll be so impressed @ 5300/5400 Arsenal Street! May we exceed the speed limit? No? Yes? Pot bust! Mar-i-juana! I'm about ready to smoke some, and still smoke that lamebrain Palin!
Alright VONS. It started in Burbank, when "they" jacked the Ford car key and changed the code. AAA, I worked for you, and national number boys, you suck! Had to call Lance's replacement in Missouri for a plan, but did I dig-out another key and proceed with a pack of Hispanic thugs breathing down my neck? Yes, Your Honor, that's how it was. Ha, ha! The car started!
Next, Hughes Pack of Salivating Lawyers (HPSL) was the old "Tail him in the store until the "Cuckoo-Dish" caused the glasses to stay near the popcorn. PURPLE POLKA DOT GIRL, she took them, then I did indeed issue threats from the HWY 23 & Janss interchange, until I was certain I'm paying for this here park. Something about, "If I poke my eye out in the dark, I'm going to....."
Next, the clerk all homeless people dislike said, "No computer in the store to look for the glasses." What good customer service! "Will you keep an eye on it?" Oh no, "We cannot take responsibility for your personal property," yeah yeah yeah, you stooopid bitch. Nice try in attempting to steal the mighty HP C-300. [Heavens, I'd better bring it in this very public building right now! Thieves! Rich! Poor! Homeless! Crooks! Scammers! Hustlers! Whores! Unmedicated Mental Cases! Drugboys!] What do they treasure? W. HUGHES/P. BLUM/A. FINKEL photos, that's what! Get a job! Get away from me! Board a plane that crashes! I hope the airport screeners grab your weenie and pull hard on it. Yeah, move it! As K. KEZELE said often at stoplights, "Not enough colors for 'ya?" What's that "plan?" Join me in Independence, Missouri and guess--or obsess.
VONS, you really should not have told me after a "Just another Negro on Food Stamps" purchase, I could not use the rest room. Pee on the floor, as a real local might? Not my style. How about a big, fat, lawsuit over the "Four Thugs Lurking" procedure every night, and I tried to tempt you lunkheads into doing something, because I'm all that.Famous musicians appearing in the mist for consultations? With even a "diversion" to pull the peeper coppers away? Nicely done. And, I finally decided I won't name that name now that I'm sure thanks to the National Socialists at the Los Angeles Times. Something about a little tin gramophone.
Whatever.
Back to VONS, I love the way you followed me around the store last weekend, editorializing thusly: "A new cracker. What kind of cracker, KRAFT? Oh, a wheat cracker." This is illegal? Oh, my editorials, like "They don't talk too much" in Thousand Oaks. Did I nearly fall off my chair laughing when some gray spook came in the old folks center and said, "What is it about this town? No one talks. Not too much. They're not very friendly here." Lucky some young spies came in and we reviewed the not-much-diff between real Nabisco Triscuits and Safeway's "Woven Wheats," or they would have surely called the cops, called the cops.
May I breathe? Thanks. Talk out loud? It's kind of essential in RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT, YOU DRUG ADDICTED, MOOD DISORDERED, ANGER NOT MANAGED PARANORMAL WORSHIPPING KOOKS!!! What did you give up, hypnotized dumbasses? You've got the store "bugged" as well as the Land of a Thousand Cameras routine? QUICK POP [and Uncle] QUIZ: Q: "How many cameras on one wall of Ralph's?"
A: "Twenty-two."
Where's the HUGHES & CYRUS video?
Lohan out of rehab yet? How about HUGHES & LOHAN, LIVE FROM CARL'S JR.
Won't an HBO Weasel be interested? Not yet? May we watch it together? You know, don't they call that "pre-production?" I'm not telling you what I'd call it after what she did in there. Is anything private out here? Lindsey, that's just not right, and if you don't act normal, maybe we can find a secret prison for you, and all the Disney bozos.
Aw c-mon, I'll even bathe first.
Mafia lawyers, I reserve the right to withhold my VONS "Black couple in search of pancake mix" story as long as I desire. What are you gonna do about it? Nothing! [I hope]
No comments:
Post a Comment