"And now, what I'd planned to post." "First, may I defecate indoors, Peter?"

I'd like to publish a book, not listen to those assholes @NPR and fill up paper plates with notes I cannot follow-up on. Where is my 1992 Nissan 240SX? Where is my 2007 Ford Focus? Where are my bumper-stickers from 2008 New Hampshire? No one knows? Bullcrap! So in prison you already are!

Let's get nuked, instead. Why would I care? Oh, they planned it just right. Starting when? In about 1837. The best spies in the world are running around the GSAC? Pathetic, and I don't even spy. I CATCH THEM.

Ready? Got a headache? Muscle spasm? Diarrhea? Constipation? It's called GRAVITY. Block the cell membrane, and you dehydrate. It's not the water. You can't gain weight? Did that drug-pushing shrink call you "Anorexic?" No, as "Peggy" said too long ago to me, William V, in the GOEBEL SENIOR ADULT CENTER Social Lobby Area, "I can't seem to gain weight." Neither can I, honey. Humanoid "Creatures" that barely eat? Need very little, if any, water? Ready to get nuked? Call the Secret Service. [Not "central casting," and grinning at what I call the the crpd "Park Automatons." She'd never seen one, I reckon. Circling back to "Peggy," What was that exit line long before they changed the front doors to an MPC model? "Deep shit!" [I guess Mike, Mark, nor Rick heard her. I did.]

No, I do not want to talk to you. My wife Bruce will maybe bring me a cold piece of chicken from the church that deserves an assault rifle nutty boy they do so little mental health screening--like none. "Advantage" Card? May I get out my orange scissors and cut that sucker up on TV, Jerry? Democrats; so mafia! Republicans; so freaking cheap, and that's how they got so wealthy. You all know I'm right. Government gals, where did my e-mail from the Chinaman go? Who is in that MSN box? Frank? Could he be convinced to stop? Yahoo had a management "shakeup" about the time half of my sorta incriminating e-mail disappeared. Then, the whole damn thing took flight. To where? Today, "missing" mail from a Verizon box (not mine, cant afford that shit). "Verizon Man" in 2008 NH? Don't make me change my mind again. I quit politics last night. Why? "Why, Mr. Hughes? Please weblog it! We are commies and nazis who want everything for free!"

Why did I quit this time? I muttered derogatory things about our first not so black president, and a person who I have no choice but to trust stole my line and muttered, "that ain't gonn awork.' So, I cleaned it up to ready for political Prime Time as I looked at my reflection in a overly reflective window. This was preceded by, "See the hair tint? See the makeup? See the verrry expensive suit?" And, what happened USA/UK/EU? I saw it, too, and scared the crap out of myself. This president is toast if I can get the fuck out of California, but you are "Brain Altered" and just won't help. No time machine to 1983, when I asked my spouse, "What is that crap they are dumping out of the Space Shuttle from Vandenberg? 'Secret Pentagon mission?' I don't like the sound of that." I still don't. The "crap" is mine, and I've got a problem? What's that line from my ain't seen it in a while script cosmically titled Ask Not?

BRETT

Are you trying to overthrow the United States Government?

JANET

No, you are.

I slept two nights with some minor legend named "Janet" out here, and nothing went on like HH? The guy with four E.T. faces on his skateboard with three named gave me "Brett.?" Could you insult me some more? Is it raining yet, Ventura? In late 2008, I was going to "sapper" that thing on the beach. No need now, right Jerry?

ATTENTION LUTHERAN SS FATTIES AND KEN-KEN'S:
1. I do not want to talk to you.
2. I do not want to use your cell phone.
3. I do not want to run for president until someone gets arrested for STALKING me, like you!
4. You shall not steal my I.D. that says, "Hughes."
5. You cannot kill me and take my too high "Advantage" card. [However, a goddamn social worker could go to Von's or Ralphs or Albertsons...Schnucks? Really? Now we're talking business. (It is a St. Louis joke, ca SSI fattie).
6. E.T. Chasers? No more screenplay shall be typed-up in here! You are too crazy!