03.04.2018
Mr.
Pacino:
Thanks
for replying. I saw my dreadfully jammed with junk mail Inbox I had been remiss
with checking and then looked at what I’d written to you. There always seems to
be a more pressing issue—like my toilet at the Wayside Motel does not flush, or
a big thug is stalking me off the bus. Where did my cars go? I’m apparently not
allowed to have property in the USA, despite
what the Fifth Amendment may say.
This
gave me an idea before writing to a Houston police lieutenant who thanks me for
my little updates. Maybe she can help swing the gates of Glenwood Cemetery open
and finally prove who I am, instead of enduring another round of talking to
aerospace engineers in California public parks. Too much like a “spy movie” for
my taste.
How
about I do a biblical length deposition with an actual lawyer? Attached you will
find my strongest, most impolite appeal for legal assistance. I am a regular
reader of Georgetown’s National Security Archive, and have declared myself to
be smarter than National Security Agency imminent retiree Admiral Mike Rodgers.
I
got my answer on who was in my late dad’s 1966 vacation boat. Not a Secret
Service guy; it was, per Christopher Banks at the LBJ Presidential Library,
Jack Valenti. (The inventor of movie ratings). No wonder I got into an R-rated
movie as a kid every time!
RKO?
Howard
Hughes?
I
will now talk to the motel wall, instead of watch Mafia sell-out jerks receive
Oscars.
See
why they love me in LA?
Good
day,
William
Hughes
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