Which Reminds Me

I vaguely remember that Lori Reece did not like being teased by someone in high school about "Reese's pieces." She is apparently not a purveyor of peanut butter cups, and adamantly opposed to persons who would suggest otherwise. If there was some other meaning to that exchange I really would not know. I only vaguely remember overhearing some exchange along those lines.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is somewhat awkward these pathetically stupid Southern Baptists pretending to own the universe when actually the Bells and Reese's Pieces were never really my friends and I really don't care if I never hear from them after high school. The misery of high school is best forgotten or skipped over in a gracious way. I can't have Mr. Bell always sticking my nose in it, as if I were a dog to be trained. No, never.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I sort of understand about these immigrant whiners having a huge guano chip on their shoulders, wanting to make their mark on the nation by sticking it to those native citizens who came before them, and so forth, imagining that we will be impressed by their Jack and the Beanstalk blueprint for killing the Giant white people. Ummm. Really. And the result would be our country's degenerating into some Balkanized, war-plagued Third World Country. Eventually. Whatever. As if I should care.
In fact, I am very white, which only means that I find their intrigues highly insulting.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is rather awkward to have these Hittenberger people pretending to be acquainted with us. Well, maybe we did meet once or twice, maybe at MK Retreat, but those days have receded now into the distant, barely remembered past. I wasn't going to say anything about the Hits as I can only vaguely recall to mind of whom you speak, so it is rather awkward to be asked whether I know them, when, anyway, it is highly questionable whether they would care to admit to knowing anything about me given their hostile online expressions. Certainly, there is not much history there to speak of. I noticed by Facebook spying that one of Jeff's sisters married a Rockefeller, although they have yet to explain whether they are actually connected to the rich family of Standard Oil Company, to whom, by the way, I am not in any way connected. Never mind about Marvin, of whose existence I am only vaguely aware now having done my genealogy research on Ancestry.com. So all of these Christian references to the "Rock" of Ages and so forth are clearly are not intended to reference the Rockefellers in any way. Actually I would rather die than have some such creepy rich man trying to function as some kind of Masonic "Pimp" on my so-called "behalf." And anyway, my parents voted for Nixon, not Johnson. I never promised to be a lifelong Republican party and I could say pretty much the same thing about the Democrat party. Parties are overrated. The Johnsons have nothing intelligent to say to me. Who was that distant cousin of my grandmother's who once worked for Lady Bird? I don't remember her or them. I once saw them at the U.S. Embassy in El Salvador, where Lady Bird sent her photographer to snap a shot of the two little white girls drowning in a sea of browns, watching them through the fence. But we are no longer there in that photograph and Lady Bird is dead. The Johnsons are thus are no longer welcome to revisit a photo they sought to abuse.

Which Reminds Me

I think I might have met someone who was from Meridian, Mississippi, but I really don't quite remember. Was it James Sharp or Gary Hatch? Definitely one of those hippie guys who hung out with Cori during college. I don't know why I think that Barbara Miller was from Jackson, Mississippi. I could be wrong about that. Anyway, I don't have any French maps so I really wouldn't know anything about that.

Which Reminds Me

I am thinking that Debbie Lange actually might be Dutch, with a name that sounds like that, whereas if I ever said that I was going to be going Dutch I would only be meaning that I would not be paying for her plate of nondescript quasi-edibles, only paying for my own stuff at lunch, thanks anyway, and nothing more than that. Well, if you choose to believe that makes me not generous, well then believe whatever you will.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, if only I had millions of dollars to fend off the hostile takeover antics of the creepy Moores who have made themselves so obnoxious to us peaceful earth dwellers. Well, my own great-great-grandmother was a Moore but that was a whole different story. The Moores of England are not that much akin to the Johnny-come-lately Moores of Lebanon. Perhaps they do share a fanatical sense of neatfreakineness in terms of housecleaning but, still, a broomstick alone does not constitute a legal deed of possession. Any domestic body can wield a broomstick and yet never get deep enough to find the oil rights. It is more complicated than that.

Which Reminds Me

Someone is expecting me to comment here on the existence of Debbie Lange, a childhood friend who later in life became a down-on-her-luck dancer gone Dutch  and whose bizarre rantings are best ignored by me. Certainly Debbie is not a person to be taken seriously, at least not that seriously. I have mostly forgotten about Debbie and her sister and I was expecting the same, basically nothing, from them. You L.A. whiners cannot carry on that way and then expect anyone to care in any kind of warm and fuzzy way about your insignificant feelings. You were just not that important to me. I could say something similar about Cherie Turnbull (MK-Panama), a shrill whiner whose opinions are of no interest. Who were those other girls in our cabin at junior high camp? I have completely forgotten their names which only further proves the utter irrelevance of their opinions in the whole scheme of things. The age of 12 is long past and junior high camp is just a tiny blip in the memory screen, nothing more.

Which Reminds Me

While I was attending school in Virginia I remember that I met a guy who was working in the library who mentioned that he was from California and had attended Bethany College in Santa Cruz. He was very friendly and whenever I entered the library he would say hello in such a friendly way it was just too much, especially after learning upon inquiries that he was actually engaged to someone in another state. Later, when I was home at Florida over the holidays I mentioned his name to someone and they knew who he was. In fact, it turns out that he had been expelled from Bethany for illegally placing a certain photograph into the college yearbook. He had been on the yearbook staff there. Oh, I didn't know about that. So after those learning those two factors I sort of rebuffed him the next time he tried to overwhelm me with friendly greetings while I was at library doing my school paperwork because really what's-his-name just wasn't that important to me. I couldn't really avoid going to the library now and then to finish my paperwork but, really, he should not be imagining that he was the reason for my being there. I never did care that much about what's-his-name.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there is much misinformation flying around here. Some people are under the mistaken impression that the Hoskins are the "Chosen" One. Not so. David and Robert should not be worrying their empty heads about things that are none of their business. A man who cannot be trusted to manage his own affairs discreetly and in order is certainly never going to be asked to manage anything of mine. Besides, we all know that the Hoskins are Nazis who go around spouting anti-Semitic commentaries which we personally overheard so obviously everything is just a race game to them. I am not interested in playing race games. We will be going by the books, needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember running across some paperwork indicating that my grandparents lost their lawsuit in court. So how is it that they got paid anyway out of the mineral rights even though they really did not deserve it? The man was their friend and he voluntarily agreed to share some of the oil profits with them. He was very forgiving. Something like that. So whatever. I don't know very much about that as I am not my grandmother. So why is this horrid woman always screeching at us about how she is not going to be sharing the profits with us in the future, as if we were expecting something more from them? No, actually we were not expecting her to pay us anything. We are only expecting those stupid illegals to shut up or we are going to need to kick their illegal butts directly to hell because we are sick and tired of hearing all of their nonsense. They are not the only game in town, obviously. It is not just all about them. I could say more but I would not know what I was talking about.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it makes it rather awkward for us to have to admit that we are related to the Butterfields. They are, in fact, our cousins, although rarely heard from. The way Vanessa chatters so loudly in Texas you would never guess that she and the Warren family are actually illegals. Just having eight children will not give the Warrens any legitimate claim to what is our inheritance when actually they have no paperwork proving that they have anything intelligent to say about property rights. Vanessa's husband apparently has some type of distant cousin who is connected to the other side of the conflict but it is not clear to us who that cousin might be or why anyone would give such credibility to those illegal whiners who have much overflowed their appropriate channels and are poking around into things that are none of their business. For me to say more I would need a more abundant supply of cold hard cash to finance myself traveling there to look at the actual paperwork and hiring a lawyer to explain it to me and so forth. Until then there is really nothing for me to say about it.

Which Reminds Me

I have not said whether I would sell my share someday, assuming I ever were to take possession of it, assuming my mother does not disinherit me some time between now and the far distant time when she might die, as all mortals do, so it would be sort of premature for me to comment on such nebulous future possibilities, although my grandfather probably would not want us to sell. He said to never sell but then again he might understand about needing to cash out at some point. I cannot explain here because, well, it is too complicated for public ears to hear, what I do know, and what I don't know can wait. I might need some money then but anyway my bills cannot wait. I must work, certainly. I don't have time for this constant yammering based on nothing but 19th century magazine ephemera, which is basically meaningless to my personal life. How ridiculous that some people actually take this stupid code system seriously, but still I probably do need to understand the code system just so I can understand what they are talking about. It does make any conversation rather dangerous because I actually might be signing my life away and not even know what I am saying. Scary thought. Still, it is much too early to be hearing from any potential buyers of something that I may never even take possession of, especially when I personally despise Bobby and David's horribly coercive strong-arm tactics, as does my mother. David is not welcome here. I would prefer to retain control of my own destiny, thanks anyway.

Which Reminds Me

It seems to me that the busybody Kleins are much too concerned about other people's property, property to which they hold no rights and no legitimate title. You do not have the luxury of being the crop picker when you are not the tiller of the soil, obviously. Needless to say, I would prefer to reserve my judgment and control on such matters of land until such future time as I may have a clear picture of what is mine and what is actually not mine. Currently none of that is mine so there is nothing for me to say about that. Unlike some other obnoxious busybodies who live around here, I am not interested in engaging in bizarre speculations regarding lands that are actually no concern of mine. For me to take possession of my possible half would require my parents' death, which hopefully will not happen any time soon. So there is just nothing to say about that.

Which Reminds Me

I should not have to explain in so many words that I do not want to be hearing from those obnoxious whiners Bobby and David, who are hereby commanded to get off my back. I do not want their money and I never did. I owe them nothing and that is how things always ought to be. I have gone back home to the States now so there is no reason for them to be calling me here with their whiny commentaries. I just don't care what they thought about me and I never did.

Which Reminds Me

All of these things beg a test question of options:
A. Will slavery be reestablished in America?
B. Will Louisiana be surrendered to French control?
C. Will I, for the sake of capital, sell my soul to those greedily grasping whiners Bobby and David?
Answer:
D. None (Nun?) of the above.
Not that I had thought of it first, just telling about what I heard.

Which Reminds Me

It is true that my mother had explained to me about the birds and the bees. And I imagine that she would have explained something similar to my little sister. However, there is no telling what my little sister might have gotten out of that. My little sister is one of the stupidest, most utterly selfish  and greedy people I know so it would hard to imagine how she might have processed that. It is sad to think that my nephews may be partially handicapped for life with such pathetically horrible homeschooling by her but at least there is college for them to hopefully get some confidence later. We sold her to some foul-smelling Bahamian skunks so at least we don't have to listen to her yammering at our house all of the time, always drip drip drip of a leaky faucet. Anyway, needless to say there will be no off-the-record deals or agreements of any kind with anyone at all of whatever name or title or position, even less so with her skunky greedy in-laws. If you cannot sign your own full name in ink to a written contract of deeds then certainly you are not going to get anything from me in the way of concessions of any kind, and even then only the oil drilling business counts in the world of royalties. Nothing else should be ever attached to that. This is a free country, after all.

And I wonder what makes David and Bobby think that I would ever apologize for their bad behavior? Kissing drearily stupid Canadian Dawn? Are you out of your sick minds? That's sort of like romantically kissing your own sister. Barf-a-mundo. No, there is no deal to be made there. I do not and never will owe one penny to those obnoxious brats Bobby and David. That will never happen. David and Bobby are just out of luck. They are in no way entitled to considerations of royalty. No, it would be so illegal for you to try to attach me in some rainbow trash way to my Doggie-Dyke sister in order to absorb my future royalties into hers and thus wipe out my memory from off the earth. How utterly rude and mean-go of you.

No, your only possible solution is to persuade my mother to disinherit me. Now there you might have a chance. I certainly don't deserve anything after all of the things that I have done wrong and all of the mistakes that I have made in my dreary lifetime. So perhaps you could talk my mother into dumping me at some loocal mental institution and signing everything over to her. That would probably be your best method for stealing me blind.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is hard to for us to understand how any of the Christians from our former college could possibly sympathize with or ally themselves with our most pagan of all relatives, the Delesies, so quick are they to snarkily sneer at their grandparents as having been too "sanctimonious." Well, that's a loaded term. It would take me a whole dissertation to explain how they are off-base in their religious commentaries but I don't have time for that here.

Which Reminds Me

As per script: I praise God that I am not like these crude and vulgar wine drinkers who do not seem to recognize their own bondage and slavery to the creepily wicked wine growers of Northern California. The spirits of desecrated grapes glinting through their bombed eyeballs even as their trembling hands clutch the smelly goblet while they make such affected pretense of defying temperance movement when actually when we never said anything. They ought to know better but then again we already know that these grapes of wrath drunks are actually a mixed breed, not the true vine.

Which Reminds Me

Cheetahs are very dangerous animals with very sharp teeth and claws. If taken from the wild, cheetahs must be very carefully locked away in zoo enclosures, not allowed to roam freely about the neighborhood. I cannot say that I have never been to a zoo but I personally do not consider myself called to the office of zookeeper. Yes, and I tend to think this little comment on cheetahs is not an original of mine, just something that someone was expecting me to regurgitate because they thought of it first, as if I didn't already know that.

Which Reminds Me

Just because Mark got a job working with some fanged Cheetah, that does mean that I would want to hear more about that. To tell the truth I don't care that much.

Which Reminds Me

Nobody here actually cares about the 'Wa-Wa' whiny opinions of New York's Broadway dance halls so obviously I never asked for your opinion and do not at all appreciate the horribly wicked whiny riff-raff of New York being shoved in my face. I am not interested in crossing that bridge and never was.

Which Reminds Me

I seem to remember that the elder Rockwood brother, Wayne, married one of those three witches who came over from the Bahamas. So now the stupid Rockwoods perhaps imagine that by their much pirating they will steal all my assets but they are sadly mistaken on this point. The Rockwoods have been shipped off to Atlanta, an appropriate dumping ground for obnoxious people who I don't like and who we would rather forget about entirely because they really have nothing I want.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there was just never anything nice to say about the ungentlemanly wicked Rockwood brothers, so quick to exploit a simple water skiing accident, always trying to turn it into something it never was, as if I would have only myself to blame for their emotional problems and serious attitude problem. Ha!

Which Reminds Me

Yes, well, freedom here in America means that I do not have to live my life on terms dictated by some clueless Hollywood dancer. In today's hyper-visual culture dancers have become so overrated in the extreme and yet we know that such extreme physical fitness is not attached to my job description at present so dancing is not my problem. I don't want to be hearing another word from some fanatical dancing bimbo.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do recall Heather telling me oh so seriously about what creeps Ken and Kerry were, something about a hotel incident with Lisa and another girl whose name escapes me, so later I was somewhat shocked to see Heather and Barbara riding off in the back seat of Ken's big old luxury Cadillac-type car, Canadian Kerry Ek in the passenger seat. Such an about face after Heather's previous deploration of Ken's wicked character, but it seems that money will buy friends of whatever virtue. Personally I would never want Ken and Kerry to be able to claim sponsorship of me even if that would mean no money in the bank but anyway the pictures were much fuzzier back then.