In the Words of Others

My quote? "Man, this is bad."

From The New Republic:
"...Nabokov lost Wilson's phone number, but the men still managed to set up a meeting)." 
And I lost what web address? And the cig in my pocket came from who?

From Mother Jones: 
"1988  The Federal Chemical Diversion and Trafficking Act mandates recordkeeping for various drug precursor chemicals. Industry wins an exemption for ephedrine and pseudoephedrine in pill form."
And I was in the AAA Auto Club of Missouri call center saying, "I know we're supposed to be going out on a date, but girl, you still have to be with your Alfa Romeo when the driver arrives." IT WAS RECORDED, RIGHT WAYNE? Anticipating a fall in cocaine quality, are you? Let's see...at which big pharma company do I know three levels of management? Hint: The damn clock is still on the wall. It's not? We'll see about that soon, BrainJacked CA "travelers."

From The Nation:
"Once you've identified a bad guy, metadata might (if it hasn't been faked) help you find accomplices or top up your evidence of misdeeds. It has been widely pointed out metadata didn't detect the Boston Marathon bombers in advance. Closer cooperation with Russian authorities might have, however."
LEGAL NOTICE: We/you/I shall not be talking about where I get cigarettes when I don't smoke. My father Charles Edward (Howard Jr.'s son), referred to "feverish imaginations." Many in Thousand Oaks-Westlake are, at a minimum, afflicted with this malady.

From National Review:
"Edward Snowden[s] statements have been tinged with grandiosity and paranoia. (He suggested that journalists who worked with him might be killed and that the U.S. government might pay Chinese gangsters to kill him. No fatalities have yet been reported)."
To my former pen pal Rich Lowry, I'd say the "key" word is "reported." I'd sure like to stick around and reevaluated the Ventrua County murder rate, but this could make a sturdy blogger such as myself one of the non-statistics around here. Instead, I plan on paying for a service called the TELEPHONE, and calling the Hollywood "prod co's," to which I have been referred. When they hear my name and say, "What is a movie?" I will surely summon the AMR ambulance from Area Code 314.

MY JOKE THAT SCARES THEM LIKE NO OTHER:
"Hello? These things on?"