Brown Bombs

The Times of London reports U.K. wounded Soldier Boys are shutting curtains in the hospital as a protective measure against political hot air to support misguided Middle East adventure led by the U.S. Defense Pentagon.

Good thing the United Arab Emirates needs a little jingle, and so does Hughes.

The bust is on.

Mariott Brownies

Still alive at 4:27 p.m. Pacific Standard Time

or,

GMT/Zulu 0:28

Where did the minute go? I demand an investigation!

Who's going to jail from Marriott?

Is computer hacking legal?

Ya' could have fooled me, and don't forget, we're making Fooled Again, too.

And, putting someone affiliated with Almost Famous in jail as well, right?

Right?

Right!

Who's dumber? Spies, Hollywood people, or actors who spy, too?

Mariott Brownies

It's been a long time since I tasted the Mariott's complimentary brownies, and wow, I looked better back then, didn't I? When was I really born? 1956? 1957? Aw, shut up...welcome to the CIA.

White House Cases

Alright, Google, I wanted these photos in a different order, but given I'm lucky to be alive...

Alright, Secret Service pals, how did this happen? Is "Jay" at the hotel blaming this one on me? Jay is a moron, and ought to be deported. Okay? Thanks, fellas.

Here's my new ride, if you don't stop stealing from Hughes.

"Smoking," on the Best Value lot, are we?

You stole everything I ever accumulated as a middle-class stiff in one of these trucks, then the white spy delivered another one to a lot full of Negroes outside my hotel room. Explanation for the policeman, please? We're all waiting.

In the psychiatric literature, they are referred to as, "White House Cases." They are people--maybe mentally ill, maybe not--who have some sort of obsession with the office, or the president, or possibly the building, so they go over the fence, they try to get in, and typically, the uniformed Secret Service people scoop them up. Fly a plane at the building? It's been done before, remember? No, not 9/11/01, you idiot, a small plane that actually crashed way too near.

What does this have to do with me? What does the Commie-cast purchase of NBC and Universal have to do with me? Simply that extremists are buying-up what they can before I get to what is mine, and at this rate there won't be anything left save future oil revenue. Look for a call to turn off the spigot, a la 1973, going out to my buddies in Saudi, because you jackasses won't act right. Good and evil? Right and wrong? You've got not a clue, and I'm boiling-over angry. May I be angry and maintain 100% appropriate behavior? May I sell a screenplay? May I make a movie? FAA, may I learn to fly a big aircraft first? (Like 9/11 hijackers). May I put her on autopilot and tend to the needs of my famous actress passenger? Aren't you jealous? Yes, we'll be here until doomsday if you think I'll address that 9/11 mess off-the-record, Soldier Boy).

Meantime, don't dare call the local policeman, because he does not care, as long as the bank receiving his direct deposit does not fail. Are you aware that when I worked as a janitor--best job I ever held--during the Savings & Loan non-Reagangate scandal, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC) left "the list" of failing financial institutions right out on the desk for Hughes to not avoid seeing? True! And, during that glorious first term of The Ronald, when refugee Cubans broke down our door and scared the wife, I didn't get the Bay of Pigs joke, but now I do. Where's George Schultz when you need him? Al Haig, the NSA has got the audio of CIA getting hissy because I called you "Al." Okay, General Haig, live long and prosper.

Did Hughes carefully examine the back door to the White House for "potential" (thanks, Russ) escapes like RMN? Yes, he did. Now excuse me, if I was unaware gate-crashers simply go in and shake the president's hand when they are not supposed to be there. Ah, but when, at least according to the Concord, NH "police spokesperson," an "Evil Witch" controls my destiny, maybe there is a "Dark Side" to even the Secret Service, and like car keys and cell phones here at the senior center, people do "disappear."

I must say the "mind games" have changed with Obama over Bush. The not-so-tall Texan went for air raid sirens, B-2 Bombers diving at my residence, and when the Marine One copy came at me on the Mobil gas station lot down the road from Andrews, I really did think, "Oh my God, Bush is going to kill me himself." But, the 'copter I've nicknamed "The Bumblebee" flew right over my head at the usual 200 feet or so, and fortunately, I've yet to learn how to dunk anything made by Sikorsky in a lake, like grandpa.

America and the world, I have no idea what "they" think they are doing, when the new library book little Billy Hughes checked-out of the Thousand Oaks, California library totally blows the horsehide off everything, because it is a balanced account by the guy who ran Hughes Aircraft while Howie was off doing legendary things. Me? I sleep under trees and await the arrival of a sea of satellite trucks when you all snap-out of your digitally induced hypnosis. I'm crazy? Do you read any non-fiction? The CIA looked into encoding "elevator music" with commands 50+ years ago, and you really think "they" never figured out how?

Oh my, Phil Spector may be in jail, and Michael Jackson may really be dead, but watch out for your rock 'n roll hootchie coo, because I think I know what music was my induction trance for the great and mighty "they." So please, no more presidential body-doubles, no more double-double cheeseburgers, and yes, I can run a business, I can fly the airplane, and I sure as f*** would do a better job than Palin.

Is this imaginary microphone on? Amateur politicians, always make sure. Was there really a big CNN van parked next to my car outside of Washington, D.C.? Yes there was, and that's exactly why I dump my digital camera card on to public computers so all of the spies can see it is true. As for the "CIA Plane," later identified as a Daussault product, cute spygirls did indeed hide & guard the aircraft so I could not take a photo of it. Revenge? If I can ever make a movie out of my script titled II, history will repeat itself as I do the stunt in the Falcon, only unlike grandpa, I will not crash the plane. I think...I hope I won't. Hollywood, stay tuned.

Pizza, Pizza: GERDwhack Update

With multiple illegal real-time hackers at the GOEBEL SENIOR ADULT CENTER, Thousand Oaks, CA, and possibly the Cali-Google crowd vandalizing their own service as well, there is no way to format this blog correctly. You see, nutcase spooks like to put one, two, three lines of space in your copy, or none at all. So, I'd use the F-word, but then Google would accuse me of something and I'd have to revive the server for AbolishTheCIA.org. When you are the wealthiest dude in the world, worse things could happen, son.

Hey Hollywood, let's stop playing and make a deal, before "they" kill my ass.

How long has it been since I was warned that in California, entrants to the political arena may well be killed "the sneaky way?" The warnee still has the warner's phone number, so as the New Hampshire cigar boys said, "Anything can happen." What happened for them after chatting with Mr. Hughes, I found with a minimum of investigation, was regional sales jobs, poster-boy photoshoots, cigar in hand, when the girls will never kick-off their heels running for those guys, and maybe somebody was shipping something besides tobacco from the Central American Isthmus, but I won't go there, at least until I look up the Somaza clan and schmooze with Ortega's taco sauce. Could you do all that? Probably not, but you don't have the Austro-Hungarian genes, or Howard's, and we will not get all black-op Navy around here, no matter how tempting it becomes.

Got a problem? Solve it, and leave Mr. Hughes alone, please. I'm on Page 83 of the latest handwritten blockbuster, because have you heard about this computer hacking sensation? It's big, and I again recalled asking my youngest dry well relative how much of the computer's resources were used up by fancy games, and the answer for Uncle William was, "All of them." So, before naming names in the latest "sneaky" murder attempt on 12.01.09, let's review all of Mr. Hughes' diagnoses that are not real, in rough chronological order of quackery:

CARDIAC ARRHYTHMIA

HIVES

BIPOLAR DISORDER

HEPATITIS C

TESTICULAR YUCKY GROWTHS

ELEVATED LIVER ENZYMES

HYPERTENSION

GASTRO ESOPHAGEAL REFLUX DISORDER (GERD)

IRRITABLE BOWEL SYNDROME (IBS)

Is that all? Tachycardia is real, however, when the MILITARY-CORPORATE-INTELLIGENCE COMPLEX is on your ass big-time, as is dehydration, bowel shutdown, and partial kidney failure, but Howard Hughes was "nuts" to pee in test tubes, eh? Maf-IA Man, you are looking real bad, and how's the cuisine at the Westlake Village Hyatt? Never mind.

America, now that we're finished with jury selection, let's talk about why several foreigners grunted and groaned near me as I wolfed down three slices of pizza at the GOEBEL SENIOR ADULT CENTER at 8:30 p.m. on December 1, 2009.

[Hey girls, based on momma's account of certain things, plus the kindness & compassion of Soldier Boy in allowing me to use his Internet, I may have discovered the spooky recurring "young man" clue means I just turned 52, not 54, so unless you are of prime baby-making age, don't think you can keep up with me. That's if I decide not to become Father Hughes, Catholic Priest and African Bush Pilot. I understand Mia Farrow will tell me where to go once there. Or, maybe a real actress--don't get me wrong, Ms. Farrow's Woody Allen movies do count--will take me to Starbucks, but I'm not expecting it].

Back to this evening's episode of Dragnet, how about Angela Merkel's wundergirl saying, "Why did you cook meat in the microwave? Now I can't use it!" (Macrobiotic food and pepperoni are apparently contraindicated, to some people, anyway). Aw crap, Hughes just can't take a grunt as a warning, so when the tummy and intestines said, "Yum, yum," I thought all was well, until I woke up in the middle of the night with a mouthful of hot puke to choke on. Add some Crown Royal, and you're dead, a la Jimi Hendrix.

We learn from life, don't we? Yes, this latest murder attempt by the Tuesday Night Mah-Jongg Gals told me it is the sauce that was "doctored" by PAPA JOHN'S PIZZA in the pre-9/11 mid-1990's to "Kill Bill," that fellow busy with--unbeknownst to him--a caseload of Seriously Mentally Ill adult spykids, graduate school, and a "Bill the Psychotherapist" practicum gig. Toughest job for your therapist? Staying awake, you boring ass.

Not to worry, Hughes the head-shrinker is back in business, thanks to supportive California Marriage and Family Therapists (LMFT's) and their magazine, The Therapist. It's published in San Diego, a city I saved by being there just once in 2008, kind of like 30 years ago in a 1978 version of Omaha, Nebraska. You see, when the .mil spook extrajudicial execution squad leader declares, "I'll have two hot dogs!" and his partner buys little ice cream treats, all is well at the empty fallout shelter. And I don't have a job? Huckabee, please don't try this in Arkansas, okay? As for me, Chelsea Clinton, per Soldier Boy's e-pages (formerly known as "newspapers"), is now engaged to an investment banker, so I have nothing to lose in that state anymore, except electoral votes.

Yes, that tomato sauce sure was yummy, but my fellow 1994-1996 grad student cleverly last named GERD-ing was not as nice as she seemed. So much so, the lovely Sheryl Crow immortalized her by singing about "Theresa and two con-men." Yeah, I like the CHP flying by with the lights & siren on when I emerge from my Bush 41, because it's much like the movie I'm not being allowed to make, for some reason, but hey, would it trouble you too much to investigate another attempted pizza whacking, instead of playing Terminator games?

As for Papa John's Pizza, I await your lawsuit, so we can all be on TV. And please, don't forget I have forever banished that old company liar WALTER PINCUS from C-SPAN.

Hack-A-Rama

Girls, can I ever look cooler than that? Not likely.

Let me guess, spookies...it's a "weather station."

Where the Secret Service polo shirt man sneaks up behind me when I photograph it?

Got a nice little piece written, however we await less drama among the computer room hackers. Just threatened to call 911 if "they" don't stop it, and guess what? If there is ever a Hughes Administration, the policeman will take a few more Junior College courses so he can roll-up just like someone is breaking in your garage and put cuffs on you little techno-weenies.

Flat tire on Palin's bus?

Really?

Boys and Girls, USA Has No MI-5

Even when I don't feel like blogging, I do, because the "Homeland" criminals just don't get it.

From the diary:

11.23.09

0509

"What I have long called the "degradation and humiliation" has continued with a vengeance here at the P______ Inn. We've had two unauthorized entries to the room, with several pairs of socks taken the first time + items left askew and just items moved around the room the second time. On the cuckoo message-sending front, the housekeepers have marched back and forth out front with items in their hands and displayed colors, like B___ V____, the window lock was jimmied, per Hughes tradition, the blanket was pre-burned with a cig butt hole, the window lock broke when I tried to fix it, and now we're seeing lights out (bathroom) via the 30 CENTRE power surge, no doubt. "Plans" are, of course, formulated "on the fly," and I absolutely don't know what to say except, "Get me out of here!"

I'm a criminal? Don't think so, but the neuron-frying stress has me threatening to:

1.

2. [REDACTED TO PROTECT THE GUILTY]

3.

And I put M___ B______ in the hospital for such behavior? What did I know? Not much.

William C. Hughes