Friday, December 29, 2017

JPL: Selling "weed?"

Halt! Cigarettes are illegal. Take them to the reefer re-education camp immediately!

Mr. Matar-

Greetings from Saint Louis Missouri, where there once was a Mercury and Gemini space capsule under construction, until the Apollo program came along. Since the last moon mission, the USA had not really had a space program, which explains why the Jet Propulsion Lab (JPL) thought it was comical to carpool on the parking lot where I was “stuck” and rendered homeless.

Incredibly, the U.S. Government probably wonders why I am intent on finding an Iranian woman who gave me a hat. If I’m related to Howard Hughes, the drill bit is going to Dubai, and I’m living out my life in the EU. My, I wish I knew where.

Have a great day,

William C. Hughes

Saturday, December 23, 2017

Reefer Madness


Mr. King:

I am appalled at the thought of a “pot tax” being recycled into programs that strongly resemble discredited models from the 1960’s and 1970’s. Here in Saint Louis, the vast State Hospital complex was reduced to rubble, yet they left the old school building standing. There was no early intervention? Yes, there was. I shall discover the date our State Hospital school was dedicated. I did indeed give a tour of the historic domed building to eight Secret Service agents.

The significant problem is that they turned out to be Russian spies who stalked me across the United States. Why would they do that? Please google search “Howard R. Hughes, Jr.” Please further wonder how a brain mutilation was performed on my late mother at the same hospital. This was very detrimental to her “brain health” when every civilized nation had halted the gruesome lobotomy procedure.

Does the new breed of behavioral health advocate know how much they love ECT in this state? That too is of very little benefit and was probably done all over this evil community today. The zap was not for Major Depression? As I heard the Washington University trained doctors say, “He could use a little electricity.”

Just about a crime, wouldn’t you say? Further, patients would sometimes plead for their lives to be spared. I guess that was just poor brain health.

A pox upon the “pot tax,”

William Hughes, MSW, QMHP

Monday, December 18, 2017

I Didn't Write It, I Found It

"Passengers, we have both gone back in time, and the power has failed at the airport. Prepare to pick up belongings and sit in the dark."

Harold R. Metcalf. He is an unusual "narc"; he worked directly for Nixon. Metcalf told the pilot he was packing a gun, and so Metcalf was assigned seat B-17, near the stewardesses' jump seat and also near the food galley and the rear door of the plane. After the crash, he walked out of the cracked open fuselage of the pancaked plane wearing a jumpsuit. A former Military Intelligence investigator, who used his credentials to get into the crash site, identified the person posing as "Harold Metcalf" as an overseas CIA parachute spy. Metcalf evidently supervised certain foul play, possibly cyanide, directed at certain passengers, but he didn't know of the over all sabotage plan. One of our staff investigators confronted Metcalf about a week after the crash: (a) Metcalf, supposedly a government narcotics bigshot, knows nothings about dope. (b) in response to our question, "Did you know the plane was sabotaged?", he blurted out half a sentence, "It was not supposed to....", turning purple, he then left the room. Evidently, he was a double cut-out, an espionage term for an operative to be himself eliminated by someone else. His survival was an oversight.

Saturday, December 16, 2017


I watched your dirty little creatures try to hit Charlie Hughes.
What are they?


Dear Joe:

Here’s what I’ve got for USA’s liberals. I could make a meaningful and insightful Hollywood movie, but since I’ve learned about “Dollar Store Life” without buying Barbara Ehrenreich’s book, I’m mighty pissed-off and would rather accept a lower public sector salary, assuming there was no Russian hacking at the polling place.

Job Opening One
As we said in Catholic high school, “I could beat his ass with one hand tied behind my back.” That’s Missouri’s Congressional District 3. I’m going to beat the District 2 incumbent? As Charlie Hughes said: “Bill, don’t tilt at windmills.”

Job Opening Two
Claire McCaskill is going to lose badly, and you all act like you don’t need a vote when Pence shows to break another maddening tie. When I wore Jimmy Carter’s tie, people asked where it came from. I lie? The reply was, “I stole it from my dad.” Your entire family should wonder why anyone asked about this in the first place.

Add to that the fact McCaskill has insulted me like Roy Blunt never could. Don’t you love those intra-party blood feuds? Now, Joe Biden has gotten on my “shit list” along with your president who served eight years while many wondered what my late dad often asked. It was: “Where ‘ya from?” I’ll go with Chicago as the correct answer, if no one kills me this weekend. Young people aren’t impatient? It was late 2010 when a young woman in California who gave Dani as her name said this of Barack Obama: “We’re kind of disappointed in him.” I said, “He’s only been in office a year.” The years that followed have been a living hell for me through no fault of mine, and it has to stop.

Job Opening Three
Given I turned the key to light a light on Missouri’s new vote tally board on the General Assembly floor as a kid, and was welcomed into the governor’s office, maybe I should emulate mental health advocate Dar Walker and “Lie in wait” for the governor job here in “Missourah.” Daddy’s memorable words as he breezed in the door were, “That man will shoot you dead” as he nodded at the state cop outside Warren Hearnes’  capitol building office. That did not prevent me from attempting to use one of the governor’s ornate pens as I sat in his chair. For this, I was scolded.

Job Opening Four
How about I go back to Wales? Once I have dual citizenship, I’m sure there is a low on the totem pole post I could win, if they can understand my Midwest USA English. If I can’t understand them, this would be no different than American politics. What I’ve discovered is what an old associate summarized thusly: “Bill, no one cares.” This fact explains how Trump won, and could win again.

I have pasted and attached all of the e-mail sent to the addresses. Don’t wonder if I’m again telling the truth in reporting kooks have been SLAMMING and BANGING outside my door the entire time I composed this e-mail text. They somehow know what is on this computer screen, and that has got to be illegal.          

Merry Christmas,

William C. Hughes
7800 Old Route 66
Marlborough, MO  63119

Thursday, December 14, 2017

Got bail money?

Hughes will surely spring her after the big coup.


Senator Spamders:

Thank you for listening. I fully expect this to come to Senator Sanders attention. I love to crack jokes, and this is simply not illegal, yet my enemies behave as if it is. After being badly “dirty tricked” by the Biden people, my joke is: “I will pay for Hillary’s wheelchair and oxygen tank.” (To try it again in 2020). Maybe Bernie is the running mate. Maybe I should not be consistently ignored when I claim to have the “key” to flipping a Missouri congressional district blue. Another joke? I don’t have one, I’m so pissed off. The facts of the matter follow, in chronological order.

Monday, December 11, 2017


Nice teeth. All national health plans should include dental care.


Mr. Wiese –

How many true stories do I have to relate before someone besides Lewis Reed’s “Mary” wants to discuss the gunshots, yelling, and rather obvious drug dealing observed from 216 Nagel Avenue without really trying. My bad “inside joke?” “I’m allowed to look out the window.” And, since July of 2014, I do not like what I see. For example, please tell me I did not see my female mail carrier peeking in my window. Please tell me I did not hear her banging on my mailbox. Please tell me I did not order a free CD from a retired actor and the call taker said, “My mailman dented my mailbox too.” This conversation took place at the Shrewsbury Metrolink station. The pay phone there is now dead; I am miraculously not.

I’ve taken every civics class step toward one goal. This address no longer sells illegal drugs. I remember our city house on the North Side where the “Mr. Softie” truck would stop. My mother was “mentally ill?” I don’t think so, when the consistent message was, “You are not spoiling your dinner.” Yes, mom caved-in readily and said, “As long as you’re there, get me a banana split.” While “stuck” out in California, I dreamt of trying to get Lacy Clay’s job by standing on the North Saint Louis corner where the market once flourished, and a soda was ten cents. I can’t go to Google and remind myself of the intersecting street, because the old business partner turned-off the phone service I have been paying for since September of last year. No experience is required for politics, we should learn from the likes of Donald Trump!  

Why is my phone off?

On February 22 I called “Mimi” at the Citizens Service Bureau.

On February 23 I called “Gwen” at Slay’s office.

On February 24, the phone was OFF with the bill not due until the 27th.

Am I going to miss another appointment in Chicago, Houston, or Los Angeles because I lack a motor vehicle? How about an appointment in your office during April, which I would politely cancel if I am allowed to keep the one I just made in Glendale, California. I both drove and walked around beautiful Glendale and Burbank in May/June  of 2008. Later, a female hit and disabled my car. The story of what transpired after that is too long to relate. How about a “junker” car donation? How about my story of the United Way’s cheap car program the guy on a car lot told me about? The United Way response was a line I’ve heard too often. “We have no idea what you are talking about.” Where is “homeless advocate” Bill Siedhoff? I’ve got some tales that would even shock him if you and others are willing to listen.