DEAD? LET'S SWEAR-IN A NAVY FROGMAN. Let's see the body. Lies, lies, lies!!!
Mr. President, you think dangerously wrong.
I need Los Angeles City and County to inform me how to legally carry a GUN.
How many death threats?
Nearly struck by automobiles?
"Boots," like "Yo mama wears Army boots" was going to be a dead doggie, so Charlie Hughes took him back to the Humane Society. The "cover story" was my totally sane mom Margaret was worried Boots would knock my young sisters down and hurt them. Where is my 8mm film of this, President Barack Mafia Hussein Obama? I died? Not yet, you already Impeached, we don't care where your ass came from piece of spy crap! The "Family VHS Tape?" Go to hell, Obama. If I could get out of Stalag LA and see D.C. again, I'm coming over the fence. It won't be pretty, you HOMELAND TERRORIST. The whole world knows it.
Got that resignation letter ready for Johnny Kerry? Howard Hughes helped with Nixon's. Me? I say, "Fuck you, and I hope you are dead soon." Call the Secret Service!! Not when I identified two more stiffs running around on March 30, 1981. Thanks, Shelly, who was with NBC at the time.
Back to the pets, every damn hamster died young, until I mastered Hamster M.D. work. Finally, we buried a fat one out back like the kids we were. I forgot his name. Ginger the cat;s horrible death? Not here. Got a Eurofighter Typhoon ready, U.K.? THE INSULT HAS GOTTEN TOO SEVERE. I SAY WAR ON THE UNITED STATES, AND IT IS NOT ILLEGAL. Why? I may not have been born here. My birthday is not accurate, and it looks to me like I'm the Duke of Clarence at a minimum, yet all the DSM-VI mentally ill can do is babble about the number "6." Clues for deranged spies? Uncle Clarence was awfully LOUD.