THAT IS NOT TOO HELPFUL, FlyBoy
Got any money?
Back to my late dad and Father’s Day, now that I’ve been terrorized by both
the U.S. and Russian governments, plus had to deal with real poverty and the
usual lawless thugs that fellow travel with people I call “drug scum,” I realized
I was sort of cheap in buying those gifts. The problem was, if you offered anything
extravagant he would say “No.” Toward the end of my time in St. Louis (2006),
Charles did not even buy his usual tacky excuses for Christmas presents, and as
it turned out was trying to warn me about a dangerous kook who is not
my sister, Mary Elizabeth Behrns (a.k.a. “Meth Beth).
On the last Christmas visit to that awful suburban home, Charles cried out
in pain supposedly for a problem with his back. My “sister” pulled me aside in
mock concern over his failure to buy presents. I said, “You bought the stale
tin of cookies at Walgreens?” She had, and there was no holiday season there in
2007 because my landlord who should be arrested tonight speeded up the move to
Concord, NH. They taught me as a kid about pulling the bandage off the wound
slow or fast. Thus I never called and was not ever contacted by alleged or real
“family” in California later on after I reported, “Gosh, it looks like I am
going to be homeless.”
Of his time in the Merchant Marine, Charles said he could not bring himself
to speak about some of what he saw. This is how I feel about your most populous
state. In fact, you should want to hear me at a governor’s conference Charles
attended blowing the back doors of a hotel ballroom off with, “If they fail to CalExit, kick them out of
this Union.” We Hughes’ are supposed to be judges and get elected to jobs
like governor, and that is exactly how I feel about the brain sickness out
west. More? “They can take Oregon and Washington
with them, then learn to speak Chinese, because I won’t.”
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