Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is a bit awkward, my murderously wicked little sister pretending to be a victim of my violence when actually she has aligned herself with the wicked Italian garbage who will be thrown away into meaningless obscurity when I get home to the U.S. because they are mostly a huge nuisance, always spitting in my face as if their covetous envy of my mineral rights were somehow justification for their murder of me in order to get it from her, not that I ever had any rights, never mind about the Ten Commandments. Sometimes violence is the only way to defend one's own rights, and yet I am not allowed to exercise my rights of self-defense and preservation, while they are allowed to trample mercilessly upon me. The powers that be have decided that I must die so that they can get their hands on my stuff, which does not particularly amuse me. I would prefer to stay in control of my own life. I am just normal, obviously.