I Woke Up and...

Occasionally, I wake up homeless in California--NOT a part of the USA--and think, "You are not really Howard's grandson." I tried it today, April 2, 2011, but here is what happened. I came around a corner of the GOEBEL SENIOR ADULT CENTER and saw that the DOGS & COFFEE GIRL was in pink today. Why no half a Starbucks Venti lately? Oh, it means like Jr. High, I'm supposed to talk to her. It went...oh, why take time to explain.

It went well. Why don't you people talk? How did I know to talk to the oh so [careful how you describe her--you are running for president] approximately [to the solar plexus--don't guess age] uh, maybe, as I like to say, "Within shouting distance" of my 55 years (by the birth certificate, anyway). Last week, she ran away with her two fancy dogs, as if to say, "Hurry up and do something." Got a verbal suggestion?

Oh, then came the talkative girl from New Jersey. Cigs. Some sort of device. Is it a phone? Does it make chili mac? Did you take my image? Where is it going? I care not. I do care Darrel said, "She's crazy." (Not the NJ girl; the CRPD Catwoman). I did not think so. He was right. Again, Darrel has spoken. "He's crazy." You'd think this long time mental health pro would listen, but this is a new kind of crazy.

FROM THE TRUE AND UNFORTUNATE DEPARTMENT:
Where was "Homeless Hughes" sleeping the night a female First Officer said, regarding icing, "[I] thought, oh my gosh, we're going to crash." [Aviation] uh, it was the "Church of the C-130." Start it up, girls! A big old Navy helicopter did not fly over. I just looked up. Said nothing. Then, a C-130 trimmed the trees. I said nothing, save, "Mike, what are you doing?" (His brother is in the U.S. Navy). What Mike was doing was separating peanut butter sandwiches from cookies and so forth, because you are in violation of federal law in Ventura County on a sickening lack of homeless services, no one cares, and "Alan the Custodian" knows as much. Yes, Alan said, "No one cares any more. No one cares around here." And, he is talking about more than paper towels & soap in the restrooms. "Skid Row?" I'd have landed a damn job in about April or May, 2009. Where are we? What day is it? HH, nothing much has changed.

"Ed the Jew" has complained about the state of the facilities, and we are just not talking about who Ed was playing pool with. Not until the big electoral vote Presidential Primaries. I shall wheel-out that story, and I will be believed, because I am 100% qualified to serve as President of the United States. hint, hint. Ed came in the Goebel Senior Adult Center Computer Lab, where I sit today, sat to my RIGHT, and said, "That's my son." I thought, "He's too young to be your son. Maybe grandson. And, I went back to work.

What don't you SSI fraud kooks get about WORK?

Don't die of a drug overdose.

Later,
WCH

Rob addendum:
Jill, it would be wise to come with me to New Hampshire, because I think the aforementioned Alan stole the homeless book epigraph from you. How about:

"I've lived here all of my life. That's why I'm crazy!"