Hey, I Can't Breathe, How About You Nazi?

Where's that hat? This is a job for Hughes! Tonight, I'm kinda tired, so we shall not delve too deeply into those I've long called "extra suits." Here, around Mafia Town, I've been saying more and more, "Who is that guy? Oh, I've seen you at {REDACTED BY BILL CASEY'S GHOST}

Got devices? Theirs are always better that yours. Didn't you read Dick Tracy comics? I skimmed them. I own the devices? Rachel, no more arguing, or I might as well marry someone else. Is that shotgun in the night a joke on the Who song, "Won't get Fooled Again?" It never scares me, but potty water sprinklers do. They sound like a big snake, and I am not talking that damn "spy talk," nor will I ever, you [EXPLETIVE DELETED]

This just in, delivered by crpd park squirrels. Can they find Dunaway, too? Just wondering.

COLUMBIA STOOGES MARCH AS POLITICAL WEATHER APPROACHES
Seems to me the last time I was applying for Food Stamps, the JFK library was being dedicated. The spouse cried. Me? I would not spend the damn things. In fact, I was so Middle Class embarrassed, I prayed on a particular job interview would lead to employment. Where? A bank. I was hired-on at the bank, but not before sitting on a Madison, Wisconsin park bench, aspiring to be like the state workers hustling around the capitol across the street.


Later on in life, I did that, too. Neither slacker nor slugger am I, but often when I point at the grandstand, the ball lands there. My stories may sound "unreal" at times, but you are not me. A governor standing in front of me. (Have I worn-out the Nixon story yet? Dick Nixon, not Jay). It was like the old Three Stooges joke in front of the Governor's Mansion. I was looking around and over my shoulder wondering why there were no bodyguards or State Troopers. What was the joke? Two Parts: a. He trusted me, therefore no security; b. Oh, I am a very important guy? I did not know that. And, since I was unaware of it, I just said "Hi," and walked away.


As for RMN's broad, close-range smile, I have reinterpreted it as meaning, "Billy, you are going to get screwed and stuck with this job someday." As I work the forge on stuff anybody who truly knows me understands doesn't break a sweat, the joke line would allege mature Hollywood people are more responsive than young ones who have not done a damn thing for me to date that would lead to a "restoration" of the stellar Hughes Middle Class credit score.


The actors have no money.
The producer has no money.
The costume designer has no money.
The studios have no money.
The "movie mafia" has no money.
Pat Buchanan's, "Middle America," what do they say at age 25 out here?
"Fuck Hollywood!"


Twits United, what do they do?
See Mr. Hughes.
Round the East or West corner of the Goebel Lion Center.
Off they go. I stay.
Underground railroad?
Hardly.
It is called NATIONAL SOCIALISM. In the movies, that means:
NAZIS.


later,
V