Which Reminds Me

Someone was saying they are doing to kill the Oxford thing. The other Oxford is a town in Mississippi which the famous American author William Faulkner was from. I was never a huge fan of Faulkner's books. I was turned off by the dense and rambling verbosity so I was never a big fan of Faulkner. I am really not interested in discussing Faulkner. I will leave that those who specialize in Faulkner.

Which Reminds Me

I remember reading somewhere that the odds of me winning the lottery are so slim that I would more likely be eaten by a shark or struck by lightning. In fact, the odds for me are even worse than that because I never bought a lottery ticket. So why are you encouraging a fickle faith in lottery jackpots? I don't understand your sick logic.

Which Reminds Me

I forgot to ask. Who is this Kelly Cranford person that I should be aware of his existence? I was not until recently even aware of Uncle Winfred's family beyond the fact that he had two daughters. One assumes that they each got married and had families of their own but we never connected with them in any personal way so I really would not know anything about them.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am thinking that I would not pay two cents for Uncle Winfred's fracked out pile of rubble even if I had the money. I suppose that the crushed rock business has its financial benefits but I never got anything out of that, and anyway I really would not want the headache of trying to figure out what to do with all of that, notwithstanding my grandmother's historic note on file. It is an extremely damaged piece of land due to mining of the bedrock. How do you farm that with the topsoil gone? There was a plan to put a lake there with houses and buildings around it but that would be complicated and cost a lot of money to accomplish. And why bother? That heavy machinery package comes with a lot of shrill Cranford hags attached. I can think of better things to do than hang out with that bunch of pathetic whiners. So obviously I could not be trusted to publicly say anything nice about them, especially not now. Blah blah blah. Also there is a family cemetery attached which would require a lot of maintenance in perpetuity. I cannot imagine why anyone would want to help the Cranfords unload that pile of junk at any price but whatever. Anyway, they are not my problem now.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was saying that in the future there will be no more of these unholy English people serving as clergy and pastors. In the future all of the pastors will be more sanctimonious Spanish and Arabs and we English will have to humble ourselves and get it from them if we want to get saved. Otherwise we will can just go to hell, as someone was saying. Someone was saying that in the future sermons will be preached by foreigners with stupid accents in broken English, but then again the language will change and stupid accents will seem normal because no one who really knows English will have the authority to correct their stupid grammar and spelling mistakes.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was saying that "they" will be "killing" the Oxford England thing that started with C.S. Lewis. They think that anyone who has read C.S. Lewis books ends up gay, so if you read a book by C.S. Lewis or think of attending Oxford University, which actually would be a huge privilege I would think, "they" will kill you because you are probably gay. I think that there is something wrong with that logic, extending it way too far, but I really wouldn't know that much about it. Just because I did read some C.S. Lewis, which are very good in their own way, not that they are the whole tamale, not that I would know anything about whatever his personal problems were, that does not mean make me in any way "gay," worthy of being finished off by their "machine." In my opinion. There is something wrong with that thing but I really don't know very much about it or how to explain it.

Which Reminds Me

Why is that creepy fat man bellowing at us? He is not the governor of my life, not even close, so obviously there must be some mistake. It is very disturbing to us that all that these creepy rich people are pretending to know something about us, as if we would want to hear from Cecil's unidentified retainers. No, not really. And who would get Audrey's share? I have no clue. I really don't care. I already know that I only get my mother's tiny percentage so there is nothing of interest that those creepy rich people would have to say to me in addition to that, no reason for these continual nagging reminders about spending, no reason for them to be occupying my time with all of their nonsense. They are not my mother, obviously. So maybe you sold your souls to the Mata Hari Dutch but that is not my problem. I will probably outlive the creepy fat man anyway so your decision probably won't matter to me in the long run.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember that my name is NOT Beverly and that I am NOT the one who married Richard. Therefore the KKK has nothing to say to me. I fail to comprehend the reasoning behind all of this gobbledy-gook because basically Uncle Winfred's family is not my problem. I only get royalties from my mother. That's all I get. So there is no reason for these creepy KKK to be commenting on my expenditures when obviously it is not their money.

Which Reminds Me

I wonder what makes the Cranford's creepy KKK think they have anything to say about the way I spend my money? I decline to acknowledge the selfish greedy KKK as having any opinion worthy of consideration by me. We are not related to the KKK and you are no judge in any legal sense. Enough said about that.

Which Reminds Me

Why do I have to continually remind you that I was never married to anyone? Some would farcically link me to various past acquaintances and even persons completely unknown to me but this only wastes my time on impossible missions. Some would make snarky little comments about situations they don't really understand. But the truth is that I am single and too old now to bother with men who only strive to irritate me. I suppose that it is better to live out the few years I have left of life in a peaceful retirement, thus avoiding these pointless conflicts that produce nothing but bitterness. That is all that I would have to say about that.

Which Reminds Me

It was in the student union at Evangel that we saw those guys sitting around the table playing "Risk." Becky Nolin suggested standing around behind them to watch them playing but I did not like that idea. I said that I would only stay to play but sometimes I don't exactly say what I really mean. What I meant is that I would be embarrassed to stand around gawking like an idiot watching those guys who I really don't know. For me it would not be a good idea to stand around, thus possibly introducing wrong impressions in those guys' minds. Kent Stone (MK-Uruguay) was one of them and I already know he is not a very nice person. Kent is very rude and abruptly dismissive and deeply weird. At the time Becky liked Kent I think but I personally a bit wary of Kent and his gang of weirdos.

Which Reminds Me

Someone is saying that I don't have the Polish. Ok, whatever. I never got to play that map game, "Risk," so I would not know what to do with all of these chips anyway. What use are all of these chips anyway with no possible strategy and nothing to gain by playing the game? I might as well just drop out now before I dig myself an even deeper hole, logically speaking, because, as I said from the start, I can't win this game. Duh! I once saw a table full of guys playing "Risk." It looked like fun but girls were not invited to participate so whatever. Anyway, I don't feel like trying that hard to break in or thinking about that brief scene again. Becky Nolin apparently has nothing else to think of in life but for me life is short.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was telling me that I have no voice, that I need an Italian to represent me and they have chosen as my representative voice that whiner Jennie Cerrullo. Jennie once spent two years in Hong Kong as the principal of a school there. Jennie once sang on Christian television, although I never saw that so I really would not be able to comment on her actual performance. Jennie has her Ph.D. in sex. Jennie works with children in Africa. Blah blah blah.

But I have no need of a shrill Italian hag to represent me, whether Jennie or any other. I have a voice of my own. I would not want to be held liable for the idiotic mutterings of Jennie Cerrullo. Everybody knows about Jennie but nobody wants to get caught in the crossfire so nobody is going to say anything about her one way or another. Neither do I want to get caught in the crossfire but all this hacking is designed to engineer a confrontation between myself and the pathetically clueless Italian hags who are constantly spreading wrong information about us. And we don't even know who they are or how they got our names on their list.

Which Reminds Me

These hacking gamesters are obviously trying to make drama from the fact that our French cousins are now married to China, which does complicate matters a bit. The Hsu surname is that of Old China's royal family but we only learned that from other sources. They themselves have yet to explain to us why they would actively seek for themselves that infamous title, "Queen of Heaven." So the Old China hacks, seeking to foment a family conflict, are wanting to throw us to the Marxists. Except that we are neither Russian nor atheist so their plot doesn't really work for us. It just leaves us confused as to why we should care about them. Why would they go to such extremes for self-aggrandizement? As if. It is unfortunate to have these gamesters now attached to our family tree because we really don't care that much about their royalties, especially since they have yet to evince any concern for our royalties. As the Bible says, Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. By which rule, carried to logical extremes, I suppose their misbehavior leaves us free to ignore their idiotic charges.

Which Reminds Me

I think it was in tenth grade that I did an oral book report on "The Ugly American." The book talks about how sometimes Americans are not patient waiting for their baggage at the airport and that sort of thing. My comments included something that I had personally observed on television there, living in El Salvador, the U.S. ambassador acting like a goofball. So in my comments I mentioned the lack of dignity. Not that I would know anything about diplomacy. I was just a U.S. citizen observing my representative's diplomatic display and observing something a bit unusual, the taking of snapshots of the TV cameraman when you are supposed to march forward and enter as your name and country was just announced so obviously that was you. Some people were very angry with me for that but I cannot imagine why. A U.S. ambassador is a public person so obviously if some U.S. citizen happens to observe this on TV and comment in their high school book report, fair game. I see no reason why this arrogant hag Heather should be emitting all of these personal threats against me and using her billion dollar inheritance to ruin my life, as if I were her slave property and should somehow be awed by her shrill shrieking. What kind of U.S. representative would wreak such cruel revenge on persons who may comment on their appearances? None, obviously. Clearly Heather is not representing the U.S. and thus her political future is doomed if she is only able to think of her own selfish ambitions, but I was never was expecting anything anyway from that shrill Italian hag. These haughty arrogant rich people are too dangerous for social interaction with me which is why we leave them to their snooty rich people's clubs where they can be restricted to mingling with their own kind.

Which Reminds Me

It was actually Dauna Kammerer who was gossiping about Jennie Cerullo. Dauna was telling us that Jennie has trouble with relationships and that she fell out bigtime with one of her roommates. I really don't remember the details of that. You could always ask Dauna, who is always full of gossip from all over the place. However, I would advise caution in listening to the idiotic babblings of Dauna who obviously exaggerates and obfuscates the information she gathers. I really don't what to believe about Dauna and Jennie and how they became so well acquainted. I really wouldn't know.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is rather inconvenient and complicating to see that this Jennie is spreading misinformation all over the place. I know that she was among those stabbing me in the back but exactly how she did it or what she was saying behind my back is not clear to me. Whatever. Anyway, I really don't need to remind Jennie that she has no place in my life but if she cannot get a clue perhaps more drastic measures will be necessary to flush her out.

Which Reminds Me

All of this chatter about Jennie makes me suspect that someone is trying to link me to that shrill Italian hag Jennie Cerullo, a college cheerleader remembered mainly as one who was very much into the "preppy" thing, a fashion craze that was very big in the 1970s. Jennie was a very irritable person who apparently made herself a lot of enemies during her college years. I might have talked to Jennie a couple of times during college but was never in her cheerleader circle. Somehow I was one time in her room with a bunch of girls listening to her talk about her dating rules but I don't recall myself offering any comment. I can see how perhaps a shrill ignorant hag such as Sherri Turnbull would be blindly taking shots at me in this way to divert attention from her drunken exploits on campus leading to expulsion. Or someone like that. Anyway, I was never interested in the "preppy" thing. Preppy always seemed boring to me. Besides, I could never afford the clothes that prep school girls really wear so why pretend to be a cheap imitation Jennie? I never liked Jennie that much which makes it doubly irritating to be duplicitously linked to her in this way, as if I would even have any clue what her problem was. I never liked the cheerleader bunch that much but I really would not know anything about that.

Which Reminds Me

Someone is trying to remind me of Spanish Lit class in high school. After the teacher makes her introductory remarks and sends us away to work on group projects, there we are sitting around in a circle, four or five of us, and all that Sylvia wants to do is chit-chat about whatever she did over the weekend and other matters of a personal nature having nothing to do with the task at hand. We only have a short time in class to work on these projects and no one will complain if they want to chat in study hall. And if I say anything about how maybe we need to get working on this project I will get some hateful glare from Sylvia and her buddies, as if I were somehow in the wrong. I always got stuck with the worst groups in Spanish Lit class.

Which Reminds Me

You complain of my animosity and yet you have scripted me in this horrible way so that out of my mouth can come only the curses you were expecting in the first place. So obviously God knows that and will understand me even if you never will.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is sort of weird to hear of this dreary old witch Olive Drake presuming to be the ultimate authority on everything, as if we were ever acquainted. We actually don't need that horrible old hag to tell us anything, not that I ever said anything about her. I just was never invited so whatever. I am following Jesus, not her.

Which Reminds Me

I wonder why these filthy swine of Chile are imagining that I would ever be interested in learning their dirty street language? I could not care less, have already well documented that I knew nothing about it and have no desire to repeat that garbage anyway for any reason. I just want what's fair and just. Justice is important.

Which Reminds Me

What makes you think that I have no right to sue John Bueno's crude and vulgar butt? That was unbelievably horrific what he did to me, ruining my life and all. Someone really ought to make someone pay for all of this garbage from Chile of which I was completely ignorant and unaware, as if I would know anything about his whiney brats. I was completely unaware of that so he has not one leg to stand on in regard to these matters.

Which Reminds Me

When I was in third grade in the American School in Guadalajara, Mexico, I remember having some little fantasy about living in a bubble. Oh, did I mention that to someone? I don't remember if I ever talked about that. I do vaguely remember feeling like I was living in a bubble, I don't know why. Was it because all my classmates were so coldly ignoring me that I felt that I was virtually living in a bubble where no one could hurt me? I don't exactly remember how I thought of that. I do remember sitting there at recess and imagine that I was living in this little bubble all around me. So? I had completely forgotten about that, not that it matters now.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, the offer of legal aid from Virginia seemed sincere on surface. Hmmm. But that would require seeking asylum at that Mintle Institution supervised so zealously by the Lunatics. And aren't they some of the ones who got this whole mess started in the first place? And all because of some presumed need to defend their defenseless Carole Hultgren from the consequences of her own bad behavior, as if sealing my mouth permanently shut would somehow fix something. I wonder why they got so worked up into such a screaming hissy fit just because gossip about Carole was in circulation all over the place and maybe I heard about that from my mother? All of that screaming rage over Carole's house party, the one where her mother came to get her and found everyone in the house having forgotten the dressing. And if Carole really did get saved at MK retreat that year and renounced her sinful past and sought forgiveness, why all this extreme hatred of me, why this compelling need to murder me, as if I were the source of all her misery, as if sneering down her nose at me would make her feel better somehow? I don't even know her really. She was an MK in Brazil. Whatever. I actually don't think about Carole that much so the demonic fury of Brazil was shocking. What demon spirit would motivate such a bitter rage from a so-called Christian missionary family against myself so indifferent, as if they could by their own violence shut her own mother's mouth and all of its ramifications? Clearly all of that strenuous fury to sanction Carole's marriage to Nathan at my witless expense did not save Carole and Nathan from jail time later on charges of illegally obtaining prescription drugs, as we all heard through the grapevine eventually. Clearly, the Mintles are shameless manipulators and I a clearly innocent bystander in all of these matters. Personally, I would prefer to have no connection or involvement with those loose cannons rolling around on deck, referring specifically to the Mintle case referred to above. Doesn't the Bible say something about anger not being such a great idea?

Which Reminds Me

What a relief to know that Denise Villikainous and her husband, whatever his name was, are now living in Finland so we no longer have to endure her shrill notes now and then. There are a lot of good Scandinavian singers but Denise only dreams of being Sandi Patti with tracks. There are a lot of pretty Scandinavian girls but Norwegian Sue certainly is looking uglier than sin nowadays, obviously not one of them. I think Scandinavians are way too aggressive. They really ought to lighten up and give us a break because not everyone needs that snake thing to get along. All I really needed was a boyfriend but the statistical odds were against me. There always are more women then men numerically so some women just never find Mr. Right.

Which Reminds Me

I never had any boyfriend in the first place so it is rather baffling to think that some man out there thinks he ever had any hold on me. But anyway, there is no rule of "Positive Affirmation" barring me from telling that guy, possibly Mark or David although I'm not sure who, where to get off. On the one hand, it seems like such a hassle for me to scream and yell at him to get him to go away, so beneath my dignity to act up like a shrew, when he was never my boyfriend in the first place anyway, but some people are so pathetically stupid that they never seem to get a clue no matter what I say, and are actively fomenting lies to thwart my ideas of any kind. In fact, whatever I say will be contradicted somehow just because I said it. If I say the world is round, they will argue it flat just because. Jesus is my covering so whatever. I can just ignore those pesky crows, and yet if I remain silent they are not discouraged of their sniping and irritatingly contradictory ways. They will only listen to power and I have no position with which to make them mind me. I am not their mother.

No, you see, in the coming universalist Catholic future, the shrill Italian hag will be set up as the universal mother of Christianity. Thus we see the promotion of these obnoxiously shrill Italian hags to high positions of professionalism, as if I could never do that. As if there were something "better" to being a shrill Italian hag as opposed to Anglo or Celtic or whatever I am. As if only shrill Italian hags were worthy of motherhood. Ha ha ha! I have yet to offer obeisance to the shrill Italian hags. I tend to think that way too much money and power has been vested in the hands of shrill Italian hag Heather.

Now they are trying to erase my sayings as if Greek had anything to do with me. I never had any rich Greek sugar daddy to finance my cruise through the Grecian islands, obviously.

We do hope that shrill hag Caroline enjoys her one way ticket to Japan because we never enjoyed hearing from her anyway and we are not expectantly awaiting her return, as if. Am I the only person who remembers absolutely nothing about Kelly Misaka other than she was a cheerleader and also Japanese? So for me to nuke her butt would be just too much hassle as I never went there to cheerleader hell and don't know anything about it. So I will just ignore those pesky crows.

Which Reminds Me

This brings me to the question of whatever happened to Dina Knox who was from Yuma, Ariz. She was our sixth grade teacher in MK school and also taught piano lessons. Dawn and Sammy would remember that because they also took piano lessons from Miss Knox. She was excessively overweight and played in that traditional hymn way, a middle-aged single woman. I don't know much else about her. I once visited her in Yuma during college but that was a long time ago. One imagines that Dina is probably dead by now given the likely health complications of being so extremely fat although I really would not have the foggiest idea of what happened to her. We have not heard from her for many many years now.

Which Reminds Me

I might have driven through New Orleans once or twice only passing through so it would be completely ludicrous to imagine myself involved in any of the events there. They must have me confused with Sylvia Brooke Popineau who at one time was collecting paychecks as a translator on the Red Stick dole. Sandra Santiago Smith also was on the Red Stick dole. But never myself. I never went there so there is nothing they can say to me about that. And to think that I at one time would have thought to defend them. Never again.

Which Reminds Me

As a child I remember learning to sing that song, "Puff the Magic Dragon." Someone was trying to use that against me, to prove me not a Christian. Perhaps the dragon song was something that I saw on television or heard on a recording of the famous folk trio Peter, Paul and Mary. I don't quite remember now. These little dinosaur ditties seemed so innocent and harmless as little children but when they grow big they will eat everyone on the planet. So maybe that song is best forgotten in obscurity as not so profitable.

Which Reminds Me

I once did a report on the Canadian fur trade and the Hudson's Bay Company. Was that sixth or eighth grade? I really don't remember. That was at the little MK school where our teacher was Canadian and perhaps had talked about that. I don't remember why that was interesting to me at the time.

Which Reminds Me

One day during college my roommate Cori was talking about some Canadian guy who she met because their parents were friends somehow and they have visited back and forth. blah blah blah Maybe she wrote him a letter, maybe he wrote back to her blah blah blah I don't remember the details of that. Did she ever mention his name? I don't think so. blah blah blah. She was saying that Canadians are so cool in a different way blah blah blah more serious blah blah a slightly different accent blah blah blah That is about all that I can remember about that. You would probably get more details by asking her directly because I really don't think I know any Canadians.

Which Reminds Me

I should be asking where all of this junk came from anyway? Why is everyone acting as if I would know? I did not know anything about the Dutch problem, obviously. Whatever. Maybe the Dutch will finally get a clue that, guess what, I was totally clueless of their problem until now and not interested in sharing it with them and even knowing of this in retrospect no sympathy springs in my heart given that I totally understand and coincide with the English declaration of independence on some points, although not entirely. I would prefer to reserve for myself a brain with which to make my own decisions, thank you very much.

Which Reminds Me

Shortly before leaving high school I remember that I was talking to that girl and she was saying something about the nun who was a teacher of some class at the high school. I did not know what she was talking about and do not remember what her issue was on that account as I never had that teacher. I do not know anything about the nun. You would have to ask her.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is annoying that the Rich Mullins' dreary song about Rachel and Leah still seems to be clogging the airwaves given that our modern culture allows no place for polygamy. We do not even want to think about that, cannot even imagine what culture must have been like in those degenerate times of antiquity thousands of years before Christ. I do feel sorry for people in some cultures still clinging to that problematic corruption but obviously replicating their problems elsewhere will do  nothing to fix their sick system. Now that Mullins has been dead a few years now maybe that song will fade into obscurity once again because it really is a depressing song and does not really fit the requirements of Philippians 4:8: "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things."

Which Reminds Me

One day during high school Lois Bueno was over at our house and she saw that I was reading that book "The  Day the Dollar Died." Lois made some snarky comment about the author, Willard Cantelon, whom she personally knows and believes and believes him to be a dreary old fogie obsessed with these gloomy topics. Lois believes that I should not be reading these dreary books about biblical prophecy which are just so unbelievably gloomy, always putting forth a worst-case scenario. Yes, well, that is easy for her to say but as Christians there are always all these gloomy books advertised and, anyway, how can we not be aware of these speculations when the Book of Revelation is definitely canonized as part of the Bible, whatever that means.

Which Reminds Me

I never did put any faith in Johnson's "Great Society" so obviously I could not care less what Kathy does or thinks about anything. I do not recall the dull and dreary Johnson blob ever doing me any favors, my parents having voted the other way, so obviously I have no sense of loyalty to those Texas politicians who obviously are only looking to build their own political fortunes at my expense.  Myself being mostly a party pooper, obviously they have nothing to gain from helping me get off this roller coaster, nor have they given me any reason to care about their private party. Whatever. Obviously, it's just all about them.

Which Reminds Me

I really don't need to explain that a foul demon spirit inhabits the body of Kathy. There is no other way to explain myself sitting there in study hall minding my own business working on my homework, overhearing over there Kathy throwing curses and epithets in my direction, as if I, a U.S. citizen, were the enemy and herself anything but a nasty wicked witch. I really don't understand what her problem is. But then again I sort of deduce the truth of Kathy's weird Italian complex from the strange curses and imprecations that flow from her demonized and pathetically stupid Italian mouth, as if I were a subhuman race of sex slave from the Naples region. As if by her many curses and slanderous lies she could make me into a nun and herself the mother of humanity. How ridiculous. How absurd. Obviously the U.S. government is not keeping very good tabs on their mentally deranged CIA personnel. Else why would I have to sit there in high school enduring this horrible avalanche of Roman Catholic curses and epithets? Obviously they will need to eat their own words eventually because obviously they were not my problem.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, there is no law requiring that I reconnect to the horrible hags of high schools, especially not that trashy witch Irene Ortiz whom I never really liked. She is just a nasty rich bitch. There was never really anything nice to say about Irene, not that anyone ever asked me. Hopefully someone will do me a favor someday and kick Irene's stupid butt out of my way because her stupidly ignorant opinion holds no power over me. She is just another nasty Spanish bitch. They all look the same to me. I am not impressed with the trashy Boyds either. I heard they are subservisely trying to destroy our lives and I really don't appreciate. Hopefully someone will kick the horrible Boyds out in the cold where they belong. Just returning the favor.