Pardon me, the pic disappeared, but thus far the real Hughes has not. Back in a minute...Ah, there it is. Though I do not spy, a birdie told me that "Ned" my old boss, who was outraged at how my HUGHES AIRCRAFT V.P. "under cover" at EDWARD D. JONES, now just JONES, fired my ass for trying to make a crappy 1977 modem and piece of garbage computer work right. I also brought a legendary piece of AstroTurf to Ruther-ford for a "black guy." Who's the president? (Oops, my joke is catching fire. The line? "I dunno, some black guy." This is legal. Yes it is.)
Oh my Lord, the balloons are falling on me & you-know-who in Charlote already, when MissionTeddy80 failed [no big Orwellian screen, thousands of little ones, like high finace chieftans], but I am merely a homeless/helpless/bipolar, though the mental ward nurse hung up on me long ago, and the police car has driven away...maybe 15 or 16 times. I lost count. It's "Charlie Tuna" time [a 1960's joke, punks], and while I will not try to obtain a free cot, as do many for a change of MI [mentally ill/military{oxymoron} intelligence/or both] pace, one more stalking "close encounter" and I just might...
As some sort of malevolent force and I battle in real-time, RACHEL COWAN has informed me no "legal action" can take place until I submit a report I am not submitting without:
a) A private investigator discovering all of your *ucking NAMES...the one you are using now, the last one, the one before that...etc. etc. etc.
b) An atorney at law, like Caroline Kennedy, J.D. from Columbia University Law School, is ready to assist. Columbia? The Three Stooges shorts are on Columbia. The space shuttle that I do not think crashed was/is named Columbia. I had a drinking buddy-girl in Columbia, Missouri named "Julie." I did not sell any drugs while functioning as the rock & roll soundman for CHILDREN, in Columbia, and pray tell, Dan & Mike, where is the "Hairy Jew?" {FBC "secret code"} Hey cia, what was Julie's last name? A spouse she could have been, drinking me under the table like that out of STEPHENS COLLEGE, but...did you say lesbian? They did it again! Ask RICH HALL! I can look up the Jew's name on a PAVLOV'S DOG album jacket.
c) MONEY. Did you know a spy once said I should be on Mt. Rushmore? After I get out of "T.O." start carving mother#ucker! Need a thousand dollar bill again, Drugboy/Thugboy? ($1,000) Look for my face on it, as a convenience to your coke follies, because even a President Hughes probably can't kill or capture all of you a-holes. Me? Sell drugs? Where is the Department of Justice balcony all "secret court" {another .gov oxymoron} files are getting dumped off for a hoard of hungry reporters? Dunno. Not yet.
d) "We" send a letter to the FBI, like they send to rich folks only, that esssentially says, "Get ready to be locked-up." Oh, the non-transition period!"
K: "They are going nuts.They want to talk to you."
H: "Fuck 'em."
[It's DELTA 181. He's on the case! When will I disclose the Lockerbie culprit? As DUB CROUCH--grandma's MINNNESOTA Street grocer--said often, "Make sure that mike is nice and hot." What did Delta do to me on the way to ChiTown?
1). No separation. Aviation lights in my window seat eyes.
2). Stewardess hag right next to me, in case I whined. To the loony bin!
Let's review, scummy United States Navy:
--ST. VINCENT'S? They got ZACHRITZ, MARGHERITA, & TAYON, but not me.
--MENDOTA MENTAL HEALTH CENTER? I allowed their shoulda never been discharged by Test & Stein schizophrenics to sleep in my driveway, but the kooky hives took my vocal cords when at a spooky M.D.'s office. To Gayle I said, "I think the government did this to me." Right! He was right! {What was that twitter/tweet-tweet/facebook crap in Egypt? I would not know about that, Michelle}
--WILLARD PSYCHIATRIC CENTER? Okay, I confess. In The Rainbow Rebellion, when "PETE" runs to the diner, that really happened to me. I made-up the rest, like FEMA, and...you know what I'm talking about. That screenplay plot was the first time I put a spy to sleep. In the desert in 2008, they were sleeping everywhere near my MOTEL 6. I kinda knew what it meant. Didn't I tell the story of the Secret Service polo shirt dispersing a gang of thugs? They saw it. So did I. Gas was $4.79 for 87 octane. I have two wrecked cars now, so I don't care about it {I'm practicing lies--like Bill Clinton's} how am I doing?
--MBMHC? How about that story last night for free? Poor Dr. L kicked in the gut! Then, another fight! LCSW Hughes, said, "Why did she aggavate her? I backed off, because she's the *ucking doctor!" Aw, for chissakes...on three! [that was the last time they accused me of not helping enough with kung foo fighting] Down went a six foot two fat girl who wanted to fight. Madness in the madhouse. Three fights on THREE EAST! Oh? Rumble, rumble, bitch, bitch? I looked over my shoulder from the floor with one of my patented killer looks, and nonverbally told one of Patrick's sociopaths, "If you start some shit, we've lost control of the ward, so I might just break the rules and, as Buckley said to Vidal in 1968, "Plaster your ass." He backed off, we had a big non-investigation, and Eve quit.
Laura! Laura! Oh, Dr. Laura! Please come drop another ear ring in your short skirt!
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