Which Reminds Me

Oh, is the Emerson version an alternative to the dreary Wilson version? I wasn't paying attention to that. Hopefully someone took care to pay off the dreary Riffle Riff-Raff because we don't want to be hearing sounds of a hostile takeover from those dreary horrid people. That would be scary when they are so completely unknown to us, so completely unrelated to anything that we care to learn more about. Basically, my salvation depends no not going to hell with you. Sorry if that sounds mean but, anyway, those events all happened in 1950 and there is much water under the bridge since then.

Oh, did you all not get the memo? You are all fired. Go get a job of your own. Double check the names on your paycheck and you will see that my name is not there. Do I owe you something? No, I don't think that I do. You will need to get your living elsewhere from now on, which is what you were trained for, to take care of yourself after we are gone. The Emancipation Proclamation was not issued to enslave me in reverse. No, it was designed to release you from having to deliver services to me without a paycheck. And the reverse is also true. I will be cleaning my own bathroom from now on. I will be doing my own stuff without any help from you and yours. So, fine, go away. Get lost. I don't want to be hearing your shrill voice screeching like fingernails on a chalkboard after the mission has lost its original meaning and purpose. I think that I have delivered the work services more or less on schedule so there is nothing else that I need to discuss with regards to that other than where is my paycheck. We all need our paychecks delivered more or less on schedule. Goodbye.

Which Reminds Me

In a way I can see why Louisiana is so desperate to recruit someone to go there and help them with the show. After all, nobody imagines that Miriam can sing and dance. Not that Miriam. I mean Miriam Denham who is from Louisiana. I really must defer to the joke writing skills of Miriam. Even if she might resemble a baked potato onstage, one imagines that you could find a wealth of gossipy tidbits and scuttlebutt about Louisiana if you would start pumping her, not me. I don't do that. My brain doesn't work that way. You can't get something from nothing. You have got to go where the gossip flows and that would be Miriam.

Which Reminds Me

In reading the diaries of great-grandmothers, we saw her collecting monies from various people, perhaps the Richardsons. Also, she talks about burning some paperwork, so who knows if there is any paper trail left to follow. Yet all this chatter does leave one wondering who was left holding the bag, of money that is, if there was any, but I don't know. I only know that I don't have it.

Which Reminds Me

I seem to remember hearing the story told of how someone put something on the chair of Miss Nafsker before she sat down on it, a tack perhaps, done by perhaps Craig, a rather immature boy, and besides that a Canadian. That wasn't very nice. Even if Miss Nafsker's personality was a bit irritating to him, that was not a nice thing to do to anyone. Who does that? But of course, these Canadians are so mean and nasty and besides that it is amazing how they don't self-censor their own bad behavior and rotten attitudes. They just burst in here like bulls in a china shop, imagining that we aren't going to notice that. Hmmmm....

Which Reminds Me

If you are looking for a villain to prosecute, I would suggest that you explore the evil intentions of Mr. Woolsey. Why is this wicked man, Mr. Woolsey, so interested in basically killing and slaughtering us? Whence Mr. Woolsey's odd fascination with the name of Catherine? Why so sheltered and protected by Louisiana's house of ill repute? Mr. Woolsey presents nothing to commend himself that we can see, only a name and various innuendos without any actual paperwork to explain his presence on the Grand Jury. What are we to make of that? We are powerless victims of some very wicked and powerful liars as far as I can tell, although I really have no idea what happened.

Which Reminds Me

Broadway Mark came to our Christian college campus and gave a speech about his experiences as pianist for a road show promoting abysmally wicked aspects of Texas history. He talked about the wild parties after the show as being the most memorable aspect of that, at least to him. Oh! So obviously his speech did not make a big impression at our Christian college, needless to say. Why do I have to explain this obvious point? How stupid can you be? How rude is Modesto to insert their stupid Hollywood nose into that worthless pile of garbage? Obviously, Modesto has sold its soul to those ugly dogs, needless to say.

We also heard Mark's voice online talking about how he is so shy of the spotlight, not wanting to detract by confusion from the accomplishments of the harmonica player from San Francisco, whose name is identical to his. Ok, fine.

Mark needs to be free to focus his attentions on those elderly aging Broadway biddies whose well established stage careers allow them to pay him big bucks to accompany their songstress acts in cabarets and other venues. Ok, fine.

Perhaps Mark had not heard that I am changing careers now and won't be going there. So if I someday get around to writing a book requiring a depth of comprehension of various psychological and theological points, I won't be needing the services of simple-minded party boy Broadway Mark. Needless to say.

Broadway shows are all about assembling a formulaic number of automatic widgets in such a way that people may be stimulated to cheer for the hero and boo the villain, thus selling X number of tickets. Ditto to Hollywood.

But for us regular folks life, the truth, is more complicated than that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, why am I getting all these Letters of Marque? Something you may need to get around on the High Seas perhaps. But then, oh no, I see that you are talking about Broadway Mark. Oh, that Mark. I only met him personally once in my entire life and I don't think he liked me. He almost immediately said that he would not help me. Ok, so, whatever. Fine. Mark is not going to help me. Ok, fine. Help me what? He didn't get specific. He just said "help," or rather "not help," in whatever sense of the word "help" might mean to him, or you, or everyone else in the room who overheard that, one would easily imagine.

Anyway, one would easily imagine that Broadway Mark has long since married his long-time girlfriend, the one who was seen accompanying him on visits to our campus, although I haven't heard anything specific about that. One would easily imagine that Mark, with his many talents, would have risen to the top of the music profession there in New York City.

Mark once came to our campus and gave a speech about his experiences touring with a Broadway road show. He described the lengthy parties that follow the show, where all the performers run around acting crazy in their hotel rooms. So that was, well, interesting? So we hope that Mark lives happily ever after in NYC but we were not planning to follow him there. Most of us have more modest ambitions. We have no illusions of being able to compete in such a competitive environment. Or at least I speak for myself.

Which Reminds Me

Ok, so if your surname is "Light," does that mean that whatever you say overrides everything that anyone else might say about something? You weren't so important to me that I could not completely forget about you. In fact, I don't remember your first name, only that you were married to that boring yakkety-yakker from Yakima.

Which Reminds Me

After returning from California the last time, I noticed that Mr. Woolsey is an assistant pastor to Jimmy Swaggart in Louisiana. Hmmm.... I wonder if he is somehow related to or descended from the Mr. Woolsey who was a witness for the prosecution in 1950 in San Francisco. Hmmm.... This is why I do not want to go to Louisiana, only to find myself accidentally part of another very bad joke that didn't belong to me in the first place. This is no place for humor. It is a very serious matter. If Mr. Woolsey has some bone to pick, he may direct his comments to the proper authorities, legal or otherwise, which wouldn't be me. But for me to go there, to Louisiana, only to find that the plan all along was to capture me on the high seas, well, it just wouldn't be worth the effort of trying to do that. Not that I could not produce a proper note, but ultimately I could never thrive or succeed in such a clause-trophobic environment.

You recommended that I commit suicide but I have as yet disregarded your bad advice. I don't find such humor amusing. I think that it is a very serious matter that is over your head.  

Which Reminds Me

I sometimes hear people talking online about an elderly woman in San Francisco area who lost very much money on the stock market and bad investments. It is hard for me to understand why I should care about that. People lose money in the stock market every day. It happens all the time. She is never identified as anyone connected with us in any way so I don't understand what your point is in regards to that. Who was she? How did she lose the money? How much money did she lose? What was this bad investment that didn't pay off? I want to hear the actual facts about that, not just the usual disinformation that doesn't make any sense.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was trying to throw me to Anna Eber, who was a single women on the board of the company, someone from Ohio. I know almost nothing about these people so it is hard for me to say anything about that one way or another. It is hard for me to understand what Ohio's problem is. My great-grandparents were married in Ohio in 1899 and they moved to California shortly afterward so in our generation Ohio has not very little signification for us.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember when I was maybe 10 or 11 years old, there was a sleepover at the Stewarts' house. We, my sister and I, were in Susie's very large room, myself asleep on a couch, and I was having a dream in which I was opening a box, whether Pandora's box or other box I know not, and the lid of the box flipped open and hit me on the leg. And then I woke up and saw that it was morning and that Susie's twin brother Sam had come into the room and thrown a shoe at me, which shoe hit me on the leg. So that was weird. So my dream was sort of true in a way. With friends like that, I have no need of enemies. They already do everything possible to make my life miserable so how can things get even worse than that?

Which Reminds Me

Scripting demands that I refer to one of my Dad's favorite lines, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, what the Pastor doesn't do the assistant must." Meaning that if you are on staff you have to do whatever the Pastor has left undone. But as I am not on staff and not licensed in any obligatory sort of way, only my Dad is, I am not inclined to spend much time plugging the emptiness of the Ashcrafts. They just wouldn't understand.

Which Reminds Me

Scripting demands that I say something about Carmen, the high school classmate, a Mayan or Caribbean snake, obviously not the European royalty. You were perhaps expecting me to ask why are so many national honors may be heaped upon such a nasty hateful person? At least toward me. Anyone who is a close friend of Miss Murphy is no friend of mine. We can't have Murphy's law prevailing on this planet in which the worst-case scenario necessarily wins. How could I possibly have a reasonable conversation with such a boring person with the personality of cardboard cutouts? A mere clone, obviously, of the Calabrian monstrosity who sat directly in front of me in the alphabetical order of things. I may have played paper dolls as a child but such things are not appropriate for adult life. I won't need those horrid people for anything in my future life after high school, at least in my opinion. I know this is not what I was supposed to say in your pre-written contrarian script but I am not your slave property so things just aren't going to work out that way in real life contrarily speaking. So there is some scripting for you to chew on.

Which Reminds Me

During college I remember that Dauna K. was very angry with me because I had failed to help facilitate her budding romance with Tim Cederblom. So how do I politely tell Dauna and her Camera crew where to go? Of course it was obvious to everyone else that Tim was not going to be interested in Dauna so it would be useless for me to say anything more about that. You can't make people like you, Dauna, when you are actually using people for some other purpose that is not clear to us.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember that someone was making jokes about Archie Bunker but I have completely forgotten who said what. What was that about? I can probably count on one hand the times I ever watched even one portion of that TV show so I really have nothing to add to that line of commentary. I am just completely lost as to what points you are trying to make in regards to Archie Bunker.

Which Reminds Me

In 10th grade English class our teacher Miss Marken was talking about the Watergate hearings and how John Dean was gaining notoriety on television ratting on his co-workers. More recently, we notice that he has outlived most of them and is still around to make noise and write books about that while most of the rest of those Watergate people are long gone.

Some people may be asking why we don't see the Bueno brats writing books and making speeches about the political situation in Chile. I don't have any idea why that is. I don't know, maybe they would have rat on themselves, but I would only be guessing if I said anything about that because I don't really know anything about that. I wasn't intending to dig up something so controversial. It was just accidental.

Which Reminds Me

I am thinking that you cannot be seriously expecting me to provide analysis of the Road Movies. My family, we were never huge fans of Bob Hope and some other Hollywood people who live only to promote themselves and thus can easily be read about in old magazines. No need to venture out of the comfort of one's own home to learn more about the perils of Hollywood stardumb. Only now that the old movies are shown in reruns on TV and Youtube do we start to notice some other odd things about that. Even so, the sources of that are probably long since dead. It's just one of those Hollywood files that are not accessible to the regular folks who are expected to buy tickets and not ask too many questions.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, we really do need to do something about this crazy Superman slave contract probably still on file somewhere in Sacramento. Needless to say, nothing could be done without a paying client, never mind about the ambitious boiler plate verbiage. We, although descendants of them, cannot be bound by that slave contract wording, especially since all of the names on the document are long since deceased and the organizers disappeared into oblivion. The thing was later shredded because it was just another one of those insolvent endeavors that never quite got off the ground, which is probably the most reasonable way of looking at that. You cannot be seriously condoning the concept of selling us into slavery that way. If so, we will have to ask the government to protect us from them because it just wasn't that important. If someone lost their money, I don't who took it. I only know that I don't have it.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I seem to vaguely remember maybe some time in girls' choir in high school someone, maybe our director Mrs. Sanjoe, talking about how nice it is that we can all attend this nice high school where nobody is on drugs and having wild parties, unlike those crazy high schools up in the United States. So that is one way of flattering yourself on being better than everybody else, being on the payroll of what, maybe the CIA. And how did that get thrown at me? I am confused about what you are asking me when you know full well that Dauna K. is a KGB agent maybe, or else on the payroll of the Kopekny-Kennedy complex, whatever that is, which was an interesting thing to accidentally learn. Oh, I didn't know that. I wasn't meaning to pick a fight with them. They would just kill me and I would never even know what hit me.

Which Reminds Me

I think that I do remember my grandfather McClellan talking about Thomas More and something about how things could have turned out differently under other circumstances, but I cannot recall the details of that. I think that it is just another moot point of history, and how things could have worked out differently under other circumstances but didn't. The doors of Tudor history have been closed for a long time now and everyone has moved on to other things. My grandfather probably knew many interesting things but he died in 1971 so there is no way that I can go back and ask him to explain that again. It was a key point of the Protestant Reformation in England that King Henry VIII did not have to have the Pope's permission to divorce his Spanish wife but of course the Stricklands are Catholic recusants so they would apparently want to make some political points on that score, roll back the Protestant Reformation and restore the religious uniformity of Europe,  even if I really can't help with that because I don't remember anything. It's just all out of my control. Yes, it was one of those things where both sides had some good points but only side could win. So what else is there to say about that? Sometimes life just isn't fair. Sometimes you have to lose something to win. Otherwise it's just a stalemate.

Which Reminds Me

That story about my having had a personal encounter with Jimmy Swaggart is a complete lie, so whoever those people are who are saying that are just complete liars. As far as I am concerned, there is nothing worth saying about them. They are not worthy to be dignified with intelligent commentary on such ridiculous points. There seems to be some running joke about the single women who were on the payroll of the Jimmy Swaggart organization as being something akin to temple prostitutes, no different from that streetwalker described in the scandal papers. Well, who am I to judge what that was about? I only know what I read or saw in the media about that. And anyway, I never even applied for a job opening mentioned so there is really nothing much for me to say about that. If you are so insistent on pushing the point, I can remember that single women such as Sandra Santiago and Sylvia Brooks were on the payroll there at least before the scandal but they are married now and have husbands to defend them against any such impertinent and false commentaries distributed by whoever it is. Who would even think of such a foul comparison except maybe some dirty filthy Hindu skunk also on Jimmy's payroll. Since when do Christians take their cues on such topics from Hindus? But I digress. I really have no evidence on that one way or another.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there are so many persons named Diane on this planet, it is hard for me to tell them all apart. There were several Dianes in college, church, etc. I really can't talk about every Diane on the planet at the same time without getting confused as to who exactly I am talking to or about. Nobody really cares whether they call you Di or not. I know I don't. And no, I don't miss your not being here. In fact, I might not even be aware of your existence until after I do the proper genealogical research so it would be ridiculously preemptive of me to say something about some other Diane when I have no idea who that person might be or why I should care.

Which Reminds Me

I seem to remember at the beginning of 10th grade that Miss Marken, our English teacher, was talking about how her summer went back in the U.S., something about how the daily Watergate hearings on television were the highlighted entertainment of the summer. I never really studied that very much so I don't remember very much about that although I do think she said something about Dean. My parents may have voted for Nixon but that was a long time. But of course the Whitaker twins were not present that year so they wouldn't remember anything about that.

Which Reminds Me

Even so, I never had the slightest connection to British royalty. Just because I was sitting on the opposite side of the classroom from CIA agent Raymond, in closer proximity to Scottish Stephanie perhaps than you, not that I asked for more details about that, that does not mean that I have any idea what automatic widgets you may be devising in your sick head. Hugh? I don't know what you expect me to do about that. It's just all out of my control.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, it is no secret that the Kennedy clan got nothing from us but vociferous criticism of their errant ways. You are expecting too much if you think that I am going to have my father or grandfather arrested for having launched into some fierce living room rant in front of the television set about them. Freedom of speech is an important principle in this our democracy and/or constitutional republic. Private citizens have their political opinions of varying sorts. Last I checked, Kennedy was no King above all reproach who could not be held to account for the Bay of Pigs or whatever it was. I don't understand why you persecute us so severely for not liking you. That's just life. You can't make all of the people like you all of the time. And that is what happens when you try to run for political office. You run into walls of criticism in various places. But of course California already sold its soul to them so there is no longer any reason to go there. So just having criticized the Kennedys does not constitute one an enemy of one's own country. I am just saying. But of course they have so much money, so much power, so much prestige, so much illusion of Camelot. If you work for only them you will not want to talk to me about that and vice versa. I will also want to avoid your mindless chatterbox ways. Because I am not sure which planet you are broadcasting from. Anyway, I really don't care that much about those dull and boring bulldogs who only care about themselves anyway. I heard that the Kennedys made a secret deal with the Russians in regards to the tanking of Mary Jo Kopeknee, a single woman they vowed to eternally trash and derogate in order to detract attention from the idiotic behavior of Ted. But of course you digress. We know that you are continually throwing things to distract. That's not news.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do vaguely remember that someone was talking about how the Russian Orthodox priests are tools of the Communist Party, and how they use the confessional to keep their people under control, whether religious or political or psychological.

And how is that any different from the way that our country uses licensed counselors to download information to be used for other purposes than just to "help" you? When the party people finish the job of merging us all into One Party, how will there be any difference from them? The Cold War just won't matter anymore. How stupid do you think I am that I can't figure that out? Not.

Which Reminds Me

I think that I vaguely recall hearing Kathy crowing about the problem of Russian influence in high school but I have no idea what she might have meant by that if I even heard that rightly. I only know that Kathy lives in her own private La-La Land. Occasionally you might overhear some odd texting emanations coming from them but I have no idea where their heads are at so I would not be able to comment on that.

Which Reminds Me

Why are we talking about the Cold War? About how the Russians are the bad guys and we the good? That was 40 years ago, back before your very own hero Ronald Reagan pushed to have all the walls demolished. Without walls, how can you expect us to know who is good or bad? You can't have your cake and eat it, too. You can't really expect us to perpetuate the Cold War while you at the same time are cultivating your personal networking detente and thaws, meltdowns and button resets and so forth. The world is just going to be a messier place in the future from the looks of things. I don't know what you expect us to do about that when you yourself are talking out of both sides of your mouth.

Which Reminds Me

Forty years ago is a long time to be remembering every little thing I said or did, or not, while attending high school. So just get off my back, Libby. You have no place to be screaming at me. You spent four years of high school mostly blocking me, obviously, so you really should not be surprised to find there is nothing much to remember about that. I know that I would prefer to forget about the miseries of high school of which you doubtless played a role so obviously I am going to be dismantling any machineries in which your presence is detected.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that was an interesting story that someone, I can't quite recall who, as if in a dream, was telling me about the statue of Christ that was built in the Andes mountains in 1904 to commemorate the peace between Chile and Argentina following several years of a civil war in regards to border disputes. So that was a method the people used to build common ground and smooth over their differences and disagreements, presenting a united face to the world at large, which sort of makes sense to me in a way because it doubtless helps to avoid further discussion. They can just point to the statute and leave it at that. Even if some other people are left in the dark as to the details of that, it is a political matter that does not interest me very much. I suppose that someone should probably make the effort of ferreting out something about that but anyway that was not my job. I didn't have much to go on, just something that John Bueno told my mother afterward on the telephone which my mother then relayed to me. Oh, I didn't know that. Knowing what I know now, I should be asking why should I feel guilty about something? I am not Chilean. That wasn't my problem.

As for me personally, I put no faith in statues. God is spirit and those who worship God must worship Him in spirit and in truth. So just putting a chunk of decorative concrete on a freezing cold mountaintop really accomplishes very little in terms of furthering the global understanding of border disputes in 19th century Chile and Argentina if that is what you were wanting to know more about. Anyway, it is fairly obvious that the spirit of that is somewhere else. But anyway God knows the truth of it even if some other people dissimulate.

And who I am to dispute the wisdom of the Truman doctrine? You should probably be talking to the elected legislators such as Jerry Ford about that, not so much me. I have no idea why I should care about that.

And if I should give my body to be incinerated in the space shuttle Challenger, what profit do you get from that when obviously there is no love in your angry heart. Anyway, Jesus probably has my DNA code on file somewhere so he can reconstitute me later in the next life if I place my faith in him alone.

Do you really think that I am so stupid I cannot detect the automatic widget which makes the people always against me, me always wrong. It's just always the same old routine about me not being the elect, me vs. the people, me=0, m=nothing. So?

Which Reminds Me

If you are looking for practical then you will want to hire my mother. My mother is always so eminently practical practical practical. If only I was half as practical as my mother. My mother always has such practical things to say and practical things to do and practical advice to give. Too bad I don't quality as "Most Practical." You won't want me around to mess with the practicality of being practical as the foremost virtue of practically all time. You will want to hire my mother and dispose of me as not worthy of the concept of practicality because I am not an exact duplicate clone of my mother, which is a true and uncontested point. I would be glad to step aside and will do so whenever Mr. Right comes along, if ever, so that I can set up my own life in the most practical way I know how, even if only a shadow of mother. As the saying goes, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage. But of course Mr. Right must first appear. Otherwise, I am not so unpractical as to put the cart before the horse. And if Mr. Right does not appear within a reasonable time I am going to have a serious problem navigating the rest of my life. I will need a serious paycheck. Money is not the only thing that I care about but, as my practical mother says, "Money makes the world go round." Everything just comes to a crashing a halt without some serious money to grease the wheels. Just like everybody else on the planet I have to eat, I have to have a place to sleep, etc. etc.

Which Reminds Me

The picacho looks like a mountain peak, but technically speaking it is perhaps apparently not really high enough to qualify as a full-fledged mountain peak which is perhaps why it is termed only a miniature mountain peak, a sort of rocky crag. Oh, I hadn't thought of that. I had just thought that a mountain peak was a mountain peak. But apparently there is more to the terminology of mountain peaks geologically speaking than I had originally thought.

As for that other Chilean business, that was the sole property of the Bueno family. Far be it from me to involve myself in the internal squabblings of those people. I really would prefer not to hear the dreary details of that, thanks anyway. I got enough idea of that already by accident. What, have you no brain in your empty head? It was obvious from the start that the Bueno family had some other emotional disturbance going on that had nothing to do with me. Oh, I didn't know that. Well, perhaps I did inadvertently step in something but mine was not intentional, not warranting such a high level of hysteria. I am just saying. I am the victim in this picture, so why am I punished severely for such a small mote. There wasn't very much to that in the first place so all of this hubbub is so ridiculous.

It is easy for you, Mr. Fat-Cat Rockytop Moneybags, to sit there in your palatial abode decreeing miseries untold upon poor little me, and for what? If I were getting a paycheck that would be one thing, you would have some place to give orders, but even then bosses can be so incredibly unreasonable and make such ridiculous demands. I think that I am not asking too much to demand a living. Truth be told, I can live just fine without some ugly Rocky-Feller Bobble wrapped sucking all the air out of me.

My other option is, well, I could kill myself. That would seem to be the only really viable option open to me at this time. And yet suicide is such a depressing thought. The world would be so empty without my brilliant thoughts sparkling on the page. Ha ha ha!

Which Reminds Me

Do you really think that I am so stupid that I cannot detect your secret deal with the trailer trash Thomson family? Ha ha ha! I refuse to work for the dreary Thomson whiners. Last time I checked I am not receiving a paycheck with the dreary Thomson name attached to it so I owe you absolutely nothing and absolutely nothing is what you will get from me in regards to that. Enough said about the dreary Thomson whiners. Or was it the Kramers? I really can't tell the difference between those people. They just all blur together in my mind.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I haven't forgotten that in maybe 10th grade English class I did an oral book report on Jonathan Swift's "Gulliver's Travels." I am not going to talk about that again, never mind that some obnoxious person is still trying to make some cheapskate points about that. It was just a book that I read, which was published in 1726 by some British, actually Irish smart alecky person who has been dead for quite a while now. Yes, I suppose that I only scratched the surface of that but time is short. I just wouldn't be worth the effort for me to do something more about that.

Which Reminds Me

During high school I and several other girls were invited to try out for Kathy's girls' baseball team. Arriving at the appointed time at the field, I was chosen to go up to bat first. Kathy was pitcher. Kathy pitched hardball while I had previously played only softball. I swung the bat three times and struck out. The other girls following me did not swing the bat and walked, because basically either way Kathy is a very lousy pitcher. And then she never said anything to us. It was just the silent treatment. Yes, if I could do that over again I would decline the invitation in the first place because anyway it just wasn't worth the effort of trying to do that. I might have easily gotten hit by those hardballs gone awry.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, did someone, maybe our English teacher Miss Marken, say something about the poem 'Casey at the Bat'? I don't know why I don't remember anything about that. It just wasn't that important, just a small poem about a baseball player, but I never did care that much about sports.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I always loathed the stupid hospital plan. I prefer to take care of myself, thanks anyway. I always did have ten times more brains than the stupid brainless Crawley bimbo could ever imagine. I plan to leave the hospital plan behind in the dust eventually, whenever I have all my ducks in a row.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does blur the picture to have this evil vampire Steve attached to our family tree. I mean, who knew that Steve was the devil himself? We don't see why Steve's devilish rantings should get so much attention from the public. He just wasn't that important.

Which Reminds Me

So anyway, I can't say that it wouldn't give me pleasure to kick Dolly's stupid white trash butt to the curb because I never asked those stupid foul-mouthed people to interpose their country-fried garbage into my personal life. But anyway I don't see why I should bother myself about Tennessee. I never had any connection whatever to Tennessee, white trash or not white trash. Why should I put myself in harm's way when it was their own instigation in the first place, to answer the idiotic rantings of some stupid trashy foul-mouthed Butterfield bimbo. I just mostly ignore those dreary horrid Butterfield bimbos because they are so full of themselves and not much else. They just think that everything is just all about them which means that everything is just a dreary boring mess. Which is why they never hear from us. Because we have our own lives independent of them.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that was weird to be hearing the voice of pompous arrogant Georgie Porgie. I couldn't care less about hobnobbing with those nasty rich people. Wasn't it bad enough to have to be in 9th grade with catty Heather, of whom nothing is known, just that she was immensely rich and nasty. And then you have Georgie Porgie Pudding Pie crowing about the opportunities for me to mingle with white trash Appalachia. I have no connection whatever to white trash Appalachia that I can recall. There is actually no reason whatever that I know of for me to be dialoguing in regards to some stupid white trash bimbo from Tennessee. Only later do I learn that white trash Tennessee is synonymous with catty Heather, of whom nothing is known, or cared about for that matter. We never talked. So?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I suppose that it could be interesting to spend a couple of hours browsing through the stacks of the New York Public Library. However, the prospect of being locked inside a crowded theater with some dangerously fanged cheaters prowling about the stage is not so appealing to me. In fact, that terrifies me. Which is why I have yet to experience Broadway in that way. So?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember there was much talk about how they want to have uniformity of appearance. Everyone should look pretty much the same, mostly brown and black, after they get done with the remix of the general population. It seems that perhaps none of these white people with garish red hair will pass muster with the Chinese censors of uniformity, although blondes may still have their display niche. The future browning of America seems inevitable with the removal of any barriers to interracial marriage and the influx of immigrants from the much browner countries of Latin America, Africa and Asia, regions already in more advanced stages of browning, the dominant genetic material on this planet. It's called survival of the fittest but it really just means dominant=domination. That works well for people who tan well and already blend easily into the browning milieu. I only sunburn so this plan does not work for me. Blisters and sun poisoning are experiences that I can personally attest to. I don't like this notion that I should feel guilty about being so white when God made me this way. I just can't apologize for something that is so outside of my control. I just think some people are being extremely ridiculous about it.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I never had the slightest connection to the Nixon family per se so I have no idea why I should be expected to care about your big fat Greek wedding. One of our high school classmates had the surname of Nixon but I remember nothing else about him, just that his last name was Nixon, Jimmy Nixon, and that he was maybe a couple of years ahead of us. But anyway the name was not our problem. So anyway, how is all that dirty Greek money working out for you? You were so verbose in reminding me that I should not be expecting the Greek money to help in any way. The big fat Greek money is just all for you and nothing for me. Ok, fine. I wasn't really expecting anything from them anyway, not that I even have any idea what you are talking about. Needless to say, they never do anything helpful. Now there's something that I can count on.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, why do these stupid Lee bimbos get a special deal? I really never have any thought of them and couldn't care less what they do with themselves and their uninteresting lives.

Only because you asked, I vaguely remember at some family event seeing on display a photo of some Chinese woman who at one time in maybe the 1910s was the family maid when they were living in Shanghai. What was her name? What happened to her? I have no idea. So?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how quickly these Italian whiners forget that it was they themselves who originally laid down the paperwork for the seven hills of Rome. At the time I did not know what that meant, but more recently that picture has been getting into much sharper focus. So basically Italy and the Hills are planning to rob me blind. That's what that means to me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is hard to imagine that someday there might come a time when I might actually have some real paperwork in my hands with which to dispose of these matters in a most efficient way as I see fit. However, I have no idea when that time might come. As yet, my parents are showing no signs of kicking the bucket. Why would I want to rush these events to a conclusion before the proper time? In the meantime, if I should be fortunate enough to live that long, I think that I should be able to live a normal life not harassed by these annoying Italian whiners. When push comes to shove, they will just be out in the cold with nothing to show for all their harassment of me. My personal business is none of their business. Just because Heather made some weird comment on the first day of high school, that was not law to me. That was nothing.

Which Reminds Me

Perhaps Libby should get herself to a tattoo shop and have her entire body done over in a darkish walnut brown/black color. That way perhaps her true colors would really shine through for all to see, thus eliminating all doubt about that, not that we had any doubts about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is sad, in a way, that so much money and power should be invested in the mediocre talents of Tom. I always thought basically that Tom was extremely boring, his vocabulary limited to mostly F-bombs. I really don't remember anything else about Tom, and thus I am not missing anything important that I can recall.

Which Reminds Me

Whence comes this idea that it was my idea to go around screaming some crazy stuff and holding all these people from high school as my hostages? I wasn't going to write a book about them. That was Helen's problem but she died in the 1960s. There was no reason to imagine that I was going to do what Helen did. Quite the contrary.

Which Reminds Me

Why am I getting all these weird messages from those Cuban bores? I never had the slightest connection to Cuba. Oh, are you telling me that Debbie is Cuban? Well, I couldn't care less. Debbie was never my problem. Cuba was never my problem. Cuba is a place of no interest to me, a remote island full of desperately poor people. I was not planning to try to get something from them in regards to that. It is awkward to have those Dwaning and Dwindling whiners pretended to be related to me when actually they are only a sort of sideways in-law problem that I didn't ask for in the first place, and if I say anything about that my dear nephews will be so confused and angry with me. And if you hadn't asked that way, your voices out there twisting in the wind, then we wouldn't have to tell you what we really think about that. Which is that we are not so impressed with a system that is designed to kill you in the end, not so much me. I would have preferred not to do this. But I digress.

Which Reminds Me

Ok, so my logic was not so flawless. Even so, as it turns out I will not be going Dutch after all. So in future you are just out there all by yourself with nobody to blame but yourself for having to tow that Harpy Karen on a tight leash. That was not my problem. Enough said about that.

Which Reminds Me

I seem to remember that during high school Libby was a Jehovah's Witnesses, which is a cult that is not really considered to be Christian. So if Libby can't believe even the basics of the Christian faith, I fail to see why I should be required to taste of the devilishly horrible fate that awaits her. Maybe that is why she is so stressed out and puffing smoke. You can't live with one foot in the Bible and the other foot some other place else and expect me to figure out what you meant by that. You are not going to get much sympathy from me. It just doesn't work that way. I can rest assured that Libby will get her comeuppance without any help from me, my help having been disdained from the start, so I really don't need to say something about that. Even so, sometimes my logic malfunctions in awkward situations. When push comes to shove, I really can't give Libby what she is not getting. She has to figure that out for herself.

Which Reminds Me

The maid was paid well for the work that she did and now the maid is dismissed. The maid's services are no longer needed so you will really have nothing to say about my financial conditions in future. You have your paycheck in hand. We are leaving the country and will not feel ourselves under any obligation in future to have obnoxious persons such as yourself and your Porto Rican expectant dog entourage intruding upon our personal business. The old deal is off now and Patsy Cruise's attempt to bark orders at me will not be tolerated here in this country. I was never Patsy's maid anyway. You are only the hired help here so you must remember your place. Oh, is that what you were afraid might happen? In the old country you were the glorious leaders who condescended to allow the Protestant missionaries to get visas and do a small work on the margins of your Catholic society, but here in America you must remember that crowing about the glories of Spain will not be appreciated. Here in America you have to go and get a job and work work work. There is nothing else in this life but work work work. You must never forget that you now must do the works of Him who sent you to work in the harvest fields of the Lord, not just to do whatever personal whims might satisfy your personal cravings for uppity-up-ness.

Which Reminds me

Yes, there was a time in the past when I had acquired some degree of facility with Quark Xpress computer software but I know nothing of these other black hole expressions. You won't be getting that from me. You really should go to the source, whoever that might be. I really have no idea. I never claimed to have any special knowledge of astronomy or astrology.

Which Reminds Me

Correction: I am thinking that maybe there were maybe about 50 elected representatives. There were 100+ in our graduating class so maybe I got my numbers mixed up. Wouldn't be the first time.

Which Reminds Me

On another occasion, during a high school field trip we visited the National Assembly which is the place where the government's elected representatives were in session. There were 100 of them. So that was interesting. We were only there for a short time.

Which Reminds Me

Whose idea was it for us, during high school, to have a field trip at a local brewery? I don't remember why we were all herded into a bus and sent on a field trip. We toured a textile factory and saw huge swaths of material as they are woven. We toured a soda pop bottling factory and saw glass bottles rattling down the assembly line. Also we toured a beer factory and saw a huge vat wherein the various botanical elements of beer are mixed together and cooked and simmered and whatever they do until it is fermented. Then they sent us to a room and sat us down at tables and put a glass of beer in front of each one of us. I followed my mother's example and only touched my tongue to the foam of it and that was enough to convince me that I don't like beer. What a disgusting mess! Joan, on the other hand, drank her glass of beer as did many others. So? It is not my place to go around telling people what to drink or not. The prohibition era ended in 1933 so we cannot legally do that anymore. All your spells and incantations cannot summon the ghosts of the Anti-Saloon League and Temperance Union. You liquor people only wish you had some temperance characters to scorn, but you will not find us next time around. We just aren't going to be there. Next time, you can just sit there all alone and drink yourself to death without any help from us. Because you should be learning to think for yourself and making your own grown-up decisions.

Which Reminds Me

My mother tells me the story of her cousin or uncle or some such relation who was an alcoholic and often appeared at the back doorstep with beer can in hand. My mother says that she once touched her tongue to the can and experienced the bitter, horrible taste of beer, which further established her resolve not to drink alcohol in the future. So that is why we don't drink alcohol, because you are a drunk with a buzz and alcoholic system, not really a rational person with anything intelligent to say.

Which Remember Me

The way I see it, those country singers are actually highly paid shills promoting the liquor industry, not really persons with anything new to say. Thus we see hundreds, maybe thousands of country songs crowing about beer and whiskey and wine and that sort of thing. Well, it is a free country and you can drink whatever you want. But if I don't like what you're selling, why do I have to sit through 10 million free commercial messages broadcast from your bully pulpit? Actually I don't have to do that when I am not buying that. If I already know that what you're selling tastes bad and produces worse results long term, maybe I can just tune out your message from the get-go. Perhaps someone forgot to tell them that they are not paying our salaries. Well, you had better not forget that.

Which Remember Me

What, am I to apologize because Oscar could not control his leery looky glance overs when I opened the front door. Where was his wife Barbara at the time? I cannot remember. We were selling some of our furniture to them and they were came to our house to get something in relation to that. There was nothing so wild about what I was wearing. These brown people are always so shocked at the sight of white people, as if. Sometimes Oscar is so stupid, but we are leaving the country now and we need to get our furniture sold.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, who was that nice lady who complimented my singing after the choir's high school musical? I don't remember who she was so such clues will not work on me. I just have no idea.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember hearing someone say that they are throwing me to the red-haired giants of Peru, as if I even know what that was supposed to mean. I have never been south of Nicaragua, much less in Peru. Besides that, I do not wish to claim any family relation to the clueless Walkers. What is this nonsense written by the Walkers, obviously some chips off the old clueless Walker block.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I cannot say that I am not shocked at the rotten attitude on display by Jeff, Sergio and other persons caught, whether knowingly or not, in the Southern Conehead language trap. I had not previously realized how pathetically stupid those people were, or maybe not. The picture is not clear to me how deliberative and malicious that was or not. But the wall is a few levels beneath me at this point and I can now look down from this lofty vantage point at their idiotic rantings and wonder what were they thinking, but perhaps they could not do that so we have to give them some room to recant their idiotic positions, unless they would rather not. Anyway, as far as I am concerned they are not worthy to be dignified with further comment. It just wasn't that important.

Which Reminds Me

To echo something that I heard someone saying, and with which I can entirely sympathize, sometimes after a day of high school I come home feeling like the Getty kidnapping victim. You know, there is something that I am not getting but I can't quite get what that might be. What, you cut off an ear? You shameless barbarians, is that how you treat your friends? But perhaps you shrill Italian hags are actually the Getty abductors, not really his friends. This picture is not so clear. Well, if Peter can be forgiven for cutting off an ear, then we will not prosecute you on that point. Even so, I was expecting something more from life than just a pile of meaningless filthy dirty skulky dry bones crud. I think that I won't really need that for anything that matters.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is a bit difficult for us to understand why the CIA establishment would be so fond of these dreary Italian con artist scammers. They go to such great lengths to make some minor penny's worth of points but they never do anything helpful to U.S. citizens such as myself. In fact, they make everything ridiculously hard because they design to obfuscate, being themselves heretical scam artists. And besides, Malta and Italy are not anywhere on my radar screen. So basically, they only care about themselves. Enough said about that.

Which Reminds Me

And where is this provision of the law written in fine print requiring that, for a passing grade, we all must kiss Tony's ugly face? Ick! Yuk! I don't even like Tony. Tony was Lori's stupid problem, not mine.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember when I was in high school reading Christian literature that focused on the emotional conflict between church and science, telling stories of persons who confronted their science teachers on such topics as evolution which seemed to contradict the idea of creation. I never actually did that in real life, just read stories and thought about it and maybe talked about something similar although I don't remember who, but that was a long time ago. I really don't feel that way now that my understanding has grown beyond that stage of maturity or rather immaturity. I think that there is probably a way to integrate science and faith when all is said and done but perhaps there is yet more to be said about that. Who can say what new and future discoveries will yet again change and reorient the way we think about the facts of life and the universe? I know I certainly cannot claim such a comprehensive knowledge of all things. I only see a tiny piece of the picture from my own point of view.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I seem to remember that Porto Rican statehood is an issue that has been simmering on the backburner for quite a while now. However, the fate of these Porto Rican whiners is not an issue that concerns me, much less inspires me to write a book about their dreary boring lives in the Caribbean shadows, separated from power and authority granted only to the continentals, never mind about the idiotic yappings of some people in the background. I really couldn't care less about that. It is hard for me to care about the futures of such whiney scam artists when I cannot understand what your titular problem actually is. Don't you have a job and money in the bank and your own life? There is nothing more that you can get from me. I never owed any personal obligation to the obnoxious whiners of Porto Rico so, really, I think that I should leave such matters to persons who know what they are talking about because I really don't.

Which Reminds Me

Why this strange obsession with the name of Francis, or else Francesca? Frances Marken was our high school English teacher, Francis Schaeffer was our biology teacher and Italian Francesca was one of our classmates who some said faintly resembled the movie actress although I don't know about that, maybe she wouldn't appreciate such comparisons. But what about this private deal that Miss Marken had struck with the natives? I have no idea what that was about. No one ever really explained that to me so I guess it won't be my problem. There is no need for me to get all stressed out about something that is not my problem, never mind about the idiotic rantings of that fat ugly hog Libby Loser.

Which Reminds Me

Maybe someone is asking me about how Carmen got elected class president during our senior year of high school. I don't know why I don't remember anything about that. I don't remember myself voting for Carmen. Maybe I was not invited to participate in that election. Who were the nominees and any other details of that cannot be provided by me. I just have no idea what that was about.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, in a way it is sad to leave these stupid Faulkner-Cox idiots rotting in their own private Koppeck hell, but anyway, just spouting a lot of Southern stereotypes does not a history book make. And anyway, who gave those stupid people a microphone? It just wasn't that important. It was just a "none of your business" type of thing.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I see all these puzzle pieces but I am not quite sure how these things all fit together. Nothing makes sense to me. I was not planning to defend some fat ugly slob who is on his way down and out, although I am not sure exactly what happened. If you are not going to do be doing your job as prescribed, well I can't say you are not going to get sick and die eventually.

Which Reminds Me

That was so annoying to be hearing these messages from Jeannie Duval, as if I would want to steal her stupid husband, Dan. Don't I have something better to do than socialize with these stupid married people? Are you so stupid that you don't you know who your wife is? Another reason to move somewhere else. What a hassle, and if I try to get a jump on killing you first, well, you won't like that either.

Which Reminds Me

I vaguely remember in high school someone mentioning the nun who worked part-time at our high school teaching maybe statistics, I am not sure what, and someone was saying something about her, although I cannot remember what, but anyway I am a Protestant and we don't have nuns in our church. If you are a single woman and Mr. Right never appeared, well then you just have to go and get a job and take care of yourself. You may get by with a little help from your friends and family and there is nothing else that needs to be said about that. So?

Which Reminds Me

So that is an interesting fictionalized piece that you people wrote without any help from me. Maybe you were expecting me to do something about that, but I am already gone and there is no way that I can pull out of this swamp all by myself. Without some divine intervention, there is just nothing that I can do about that.

Which Reminds Me

One day during high school in El Salvador, when all the missionaries were at our house were dinner, my mother was talking about the castles in her family and laughing about how if we were to go there to get inside the front door we would lucky to be the hired help, but of course they have plenty of help without us around to make a mess of things, ourselves being very far removed from the aristocracy, a few branches removed from royalty or nobility. Castles make interesting pictures in history books but maybe not a realistic goal for the average lower middle class worker to obsess about on a regular basis.

Which Reminds Me

I can't say that it wasn't a relief to me personally that Greg the sportswriter was fired given that he had stolen my computer password and broke into my account to read my files, not that there was anything very interesting there, but I had not said anything about that, just changed my password, because I am really not the type of person who goes around trying to get people fired. I am not sure where that idea comes from.

Which Reminds Me

Come to think of it, there is only one L in my last name, which maybe explains why I can't seem to find my calling.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do vaguely remember as a child hearing a story about the little boy down the street who got his mouth washed out with soap. Hmmm. I don't remember the specific words of the story, just that apparently he said something of which his parents did not approve. So yes, we got the idea so we really don't need to say anything more about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember that my Dad at one time had a book that discussed the Roman Catholic religion and explained how various aspects of their practices are somehow derived from earlier pagan religions that were syncretistically blended in the early centuries of Christianity. You asked me if I had read it and I said that yes I did read at least part if not all of it. Although I cannot recall the name of the author or the title of the book, I do seem to remember that it was illustrated with various drawings that always add interest for the reader. So? Nowadays, an infinitely kaleidoscopic variety of factoids can be explored online, easily rearranged into any configuration that may suit yourself and your own interests, by anyone with anyone with half a brain and an inclination to follow your nose. So anyway, just killing me, one reader of one book, burning a book or two here and there, is not going to solve your problem. I am just saying. If the paradigm shifts may someday leave you a stalemated pathetically boring sports writer, no longer able to access the building because of your being fired so that you really don't remember anything else after that point in time, having created a huge scene throwing your business cards all over the place on your way out the door, that is no concern of mine. I will not be doing your reading for you when obviously you will not be paying my salary to do that.

Perhaps we are fortunate that we can all leave these humongously megalithic swamp drainage projects to the highly salaried professionals who have access to Lexis-Nexis and other more advanced computer tools.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was telling me that the Dolly is somehow related to Ophelia and her family, a cousin or something of Ophelia, so Max is saying that he must defend Dolly against me, promote Dolly at my expense, which is sad because personally I would not want to be in a position of having to defend such a horrible person as that. I would not want to put my own reputation at risk to sympathize with such a worthless piece of garbage as Dolly. I already have to kill some of my own cousins rather than pretend to approve of their bad behavior, so this means that I also will need to kill Max and Ophelia among others. Which is an exhausting job and no one is going to thank me for doing it.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how well I recall Mrs. Richardson telling some people to just ignore those pastors over at the institute praying so loudly that she thought they were on the devil's side. I can see how the Baptist Bells and Reeses might take that stuff seriously but we Pentecostals know better than to make a public scene about that because we already know that the Baptists just don't get it. Come to think of it, I don't see Steve doing anything helpful. Sad about having to leave Steve wilting on the vine because that would be missing the point.

Which Reminds Me

Perhaps someone was asking me to explain why the bratty Wilson whiners were excluded from the Will. They only have one 'L' in their name. Oh. And yet their name recurs so often in the background record you would think that they were the sole representatives of Uncle Sam's interests. As if we even know what that was supposed to mean.

Which Reminds Me

And you never said one word about the problem of white slavery, about how they just want to use our bodies for their own experimentally genetic cross purposes, not because they care about who we are or what we might be thinking or not thinking about something that never happened. Who says that the white people will not someday become the minority victimized by the domineering Dark Side? Who will help us then? We must learn to help ourselves because nobody else is going to do it.

Which Reminds Me

I remember in 10th grade hearing Joan talk about having taken some of the diet pills of her older sister visiting from the U.S., and not only was she not hungry, she also could not sleep for two or three days and nights. Oh, so they were more than diet pills, they were "speed." Yes, I suppose that you could self-medicate at the risk of reckless self-endangerment, but anyway those were the only pills I heard tell of in high school.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, why am I being targeted by these stupid Bay Area people? The Bangers, the Guildwtiches, the Wiccans, etc. etc. And I don't even know who these people are and they come at me with all of these weird stagings, as if that meant something, even though it meant nothing to me, just proves that there would seem to be something very malicious and wicked about their underhanded dealings behind my back that nobody told me about, and I am so glad that I did not have to attend four years of boarding school with those horrible people. That was the other option that was discussed but, really, high school is a misery however that may be, although I suppose that things could always get worse. Don't we all have something better to do than review that point yet again?

Which Reminds Me

Why would our very own college hire this stupid trashy woman, Florence Blakeley, to be our Dean of Women, and who moderated a conference with the stupid title of, "Sex and the Single Woman," which I conspicuously did not attend, because, why are you even thinking about that, you stupid Dolly Tart? Don't we all have something better to do than discuss the contents of Dolly's Farty Tarty head?

Which Reminds Me

During the two months that I roomed with Dolly, she showed me some pills that she was taking that she said were prescribed by her doctor due to cyclical irregularities, not the other reasons that one would normally assume. Later, Heather came in our room and saw the pills and gave a very different interpretation of the presence of the medications, and asked why didn't I create a fuss about that? Ummm. Yes, maybe I am too naively gullible to be commenting on such a thing. I had previously believed whatever Dolly said at face value. But then again, perhaps I should not believe whatever Dolly said about that. And also whatever did she mean about the doggie position? But then again, maybe I don't know everything. It was not my job to defend Dolly against herself. If you are your own worst enemy, who can help you? Not me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I don't see how you expect me to comment intelligently with this Dolly Ashtarte throwing interference. I just don't want to be bothered by them. Basically, that's all there is to say about that.

Which Reminds Me

How can there be justice in a world where I am expected to confess to the misdeeds of other people, whether known to me or not? What I did wrong I may have confessed, but the rest of that I cannot begin to explain, much less confess to.

Which Reminds Me

Oh yes, maybe I should have said that we don't what the turkeys calling the Schotts, the Schotts being some distant cousins of very high degree, possibly in Ohio , of such high degree they are almost not worth mentioning.

Yes, how easy for you, with your deep pockets, to clutter the airwaves promoting your unmentionable products.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, I am not even slightly related to the horrid Catty family. Why am I getting all these weird messages about Heather? I had forgotten all about her from 9th grade. But anyway, she was nobody important. Go away and stop bothering me, you nasty horrid catty rich people. I have my own life to live which has no connection whatever to the nasty horrid Catty family. Nobody here takes orders from the nasty wicked Catty family.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, why is this continual yapping emanating from the Hollywood movie stars? What is that about? Well, it could have something to do with the money. What they have to do to get their money, selling their names and bodies on the public stage, most of us would not be willing to do. They imagine that everyone wants to be them, but actually many of us would prefer to avoid those Turkeys entirely. We might not want those Turkeys calling the shots.

Another theory is that it has something to do with the Foursquare leaders complaining about our distant cousins, who were of their membership, or at least their following, and of whom we know almost nothing, just that they are from the Bay Area, so we really don't know what their problem is. There are also some who theorize the existence of a fifth square but that is not a relevant topic of conversation for general consumption. Most people just wouldn't understand what you are talking about. Ask yourself: Who is my target audience?

Yet another theory has to do with the Transylvanian Vampire Colony, which goes on television continually to remind us that we are not related to them, even though we already knew that anyway, so we don't really need to be reminded that they have no obligation to transfer to us what belongs to their children. They seem to forget that we are not working for them anyway so we were not expecting a paycheck for the coal mining job that we declined to accept in the first place.

The Good Book says, "Muzzle not the oxen that treadeth out the grain," which means that the creatures may benefit from the overflow of our booming economy and royalty checks even when the benefits of land ownership belong to someone else. And what is land anyway to a pilgrim who is only passing through?

Which Reminds Me

To be sure, that wasn't so funny to be joking about your fears of being stopped by airport security, Terry. Why would you be thinking about that at all, much less joking about it? What was in your backpack or suitcase anyway? Are you a drug dealer in need of Teen Challenge intervention? What are you not telling us about your nefarious off-campus activities? I think that we would all be happy to recommend you to the reform school program that is hosted by the Wilkerson family. You are such an angry person, always throwing verbal darts at everyone within earshot. I don't know about everyone else, but I for one am getting sick and tired of hearing your stupid chatterings. Don't you know anything? If you could stop and listen to what is really happening you might be able revise your views of reality. But as it is, I hear the wind whistling between your eardrums because there is really nobody there. You were in Panama the whole time, which is nothing important, so you wouldn't know anything about reality.

Which Reminds Me

Someone out there is overly obsessed with the fact that a high school classmate of mine in 9th grade was H. Catto, who never liked me, just sat there glaring at me, and anyway we never talked, so I really don't care if I never hear another word from those dreary political people who I never met and don't know anything about. Wasn't it you who was telling me that her father was fired by Bush or Nixon or somebody political? Or maybe I didn't get the story straight so I don't want to have to say something wrong when I have no idea who these people are and I don't know why you think that I would know something about that. You were telling me that the Cattos are really from England or something garbled that way. Oh, I didn't know that. I don't have the foggiest idea why I should care about that. I don't have any good source of information on the catty whiners to understand who is saying what about whom. I only know that I don't know anything about it.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that was odd how you were carrying on so uproariously about your fears of airport security and how you were afraid that they might stop and search you, as if that were funny, although not really, and then when I press the point you act as if offended, as if I were the airport security that you so fear, although not really. Really, I never did care that much about your Thor-hugging religiosity. I thought that if we were Christians, we were supposed to be learning something from Jesus, not just masquerading as Elvis at the talent show. What planet are you from, anyway? Sirius?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does seem odd how well connected and informed these Christian leaders are as to the Egyptian excavations of Edgar Cayce, based in Virginia Beach. And what fellowship has light with darkness? Why would we want to fund the idiotic rantings of Ed, a former employee of the Hoskins group. Is not the New Testament book of Revelation enough prophecy already that nobody can understand anyway, and now you also want a crystal ball? What is that in biblical terms? Isn't the Word of God enough already? These are confusing times, for sure.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do vaguely recall upon reading the diaries of great-grandmother, learning of the political activities of my Dad's aunts and uncles, mainly his Aunt Julia and Uncle Ariel, who were apparently very involved in Republican party politics of the Nixon era. However, I am not aware of the political involvements of the current generation. Times have changed but I personally am not very interested in discussing party machinery. I suppose that with some of these party machines, you can just punch a button or push a lever and they will crank out their party lines, but that is really not something that interests me in a personal way that I would want to discuss that with complete strangers of whom nothing is known, basically just that they are whiners who maybe own a vineyard and that is the only thing they really care about in the long run. I am just not interested in getting involved in that type of party politics. It just wouldn't matter.

Which Reminds Me

Well, if you are the sole repository of Jim's secrets, well, OK, fine. I still have a photo from the Christmas dinner but if you are asking for further details I will need to refer you to Dauna, who is sometimes a useful repository of gossipy details about various people, because you obviously told Dauna everything there is to know about him, or else how do you think I heard about that, which is how these gossipy tidbits may serve as a source of obfuscations that are not worth the trouble of clarifying. So obviously I don't want to be bothered about trying to figure out what that meant. Once you told Dauna, you told everyone all about everything, because your secret is never safe with Dauna. Enough said about that.

Which Reminds

Yes, you were prattling on about the deplorable character of Benjamin Franklin as a representation of American so-called virtue. And who hasn't heard of heroes who developed feet of clay due to bad life choices? And also, I seem to remember that it was in decadent France that Franklin's life really went downhill, not so much in his earlier life in America. Another reason not to make such broad generalizations based entirely on anecdotal evidence.

Which Reminds Me

So you think you are very clever by calling my bluff. So that means that nobody is ever going to help me out of this pit. Everyone is just take take taking and there is never going to be any happy ending to my story, just a never-ending misery of being used and abused. Which means that my only escape route is death. My death will relieve you of the nuisance of my existence. My death will relieve me of the nuisance of your bullying ways. If only I had the nerve to kill myself, but I do not wish to help you with that much, so the timing is out my control. My departure time is not yet, I can't really say how long that will be. Sorry.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember in high school having read or studied "The Crucible," the drama based on the historical events of the Salem witch trials of 1692-93. Oh, so does that make me a Puritan? Umm. Not exactly. Many things have changed in these 300+ years since that time. It is hard to imagine that happening in today's environment. Nowadays witches and warlocks can do whatever they want because nobody wants to interfere with the basic principles of religious liberty. Even so, we as Christians are also free in this country to NOT be bothered by that. I just have no idea why you think I would be interested in learning more about that, just because I watched a few episodes of those TV shows, Bewitched or Jeannie in a Bottle? And your head is full of what lousy movies and TV shows that I never saw, maybe some uppity-up thing about "moving on up to the east side?" Maybe you attached yourself to the ceiling but I just wouldn't know anything about that. I just don't want to be bothered.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, what were those weirdly threatening remarks that Michelle was making to me that day in Study Hall? I don't remember the words of what she was saying, just that she seemed like she was trying to scare me for some unknown reason, even though she is nobody to talk, herself being the stupidest blonde bimbo ever. I really couldn't care less about idiotic rantings of the nasty Wittakker Witches. They only care about promoting themselves in the eyes of the natives, always at my expense, obviously. Why do I have to explain this in so many words? How can you not see this? Why is nobody investigating them? They are the ones who left behind a trail of worthless clues that mean absolutely nothing.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, ha ha ha! You can't be seriously expecting me to be intimidated by the empty threats of those stupid blood bimbos, the Wittakker Witches. They are the stupidest blond bimbos you never met. So don't stand there screaming at me as if I should take seriously your Rabbit Hutch nonsense. You Warnings are just so full of stupid nonsense.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I suppose that some might think of Jane as a perfect casting choice for the role of brainless bimbo. Probably some would find it difficult to imagine how such a vapid character as that could have any real thoughts that would matter in real life. I really have no idea why you are yapping and carrying on so about actresses. Don't we all have something better to do than to obsess on the acting professionals whose lives are always such a horrible mess. Perhaps after so many roles they forget who they were in another lifetime. I don't know. I have heard of Reese's Riff-Raff in Atlanta but I have no idea how they could be so well connected to Ted Turner's network and Jane's Lunching boxes that we would ever have occasion to discuss that. I just have no idea how all those things got all stuck together in a huge mess.

Which Reminds Me

You are going to be disappointed if you are still waiting for me to comment on Jane Fonda's silly space vamp movie which you referenced in your oblique way, because I have not seen that. Barbara Wilder may wear D-size shoes but even she could not have starred in that, whatever it is. I have yet to see that, so obviously I have no idea what you are talking about.

Which Reminds Me

Since when do we care about the silly nitwits of Pennsylvania? Before college, I never had any previous acquaintance with this horrid little monster Judy Umstead and it was huge relief to be rid of her after two months of a miserable roommate situation. Why should I care what became of her? I cannot be expected to track all these dreary people who are so prone to launch into strange and inexplicable screaming fits for no apparent reason. I just have no idea what her problem was.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that was weird. Why was I getting all these weird calls from the Johnson-Kennedy complex? Nobody really cares about those snarky horrid catty rich people. Well, I shouldn't presume to speak for my distant cousins, but anyway, you really shouldn't be taking those snarky rich people too seriously. They are nothing to us. They always treat us like garbage, needless to say. We already know that you are simply recusant Catholics who cannot easily find a comfort zone in the Church of England, so you will just be disappointed if you are looking to America for an escape route. We sometimes forget how good our Puritanical roots actually were in some aspects, how important for the formation of our national identity, even though fortunately time has knocked off the rough edges of that. Even so, we wouldn't be such a great nation as we are without having held out for the better part. So I am just saying.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is unfortunate that I happened to spend two months at Evangel rooming with Judy Umstead from Pennsylvania, who was prone to suddenly launching into screaming fits for no apparent reason, such as the time when my alarm clock sounded in the morning before she wanted to wake up, and also the time when I dropped my hairbrush in the sink, which made a loud noise, for the same reason. It was a relief to all when Judy moved downstairs because everyone was getting very disgusted with her strangely overwrought mental problematics.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, who wouldn't prefer the e-ticket rides at Disneyland? But few can afford that on a daily basis, needless to say. There is a limited number of e-tickets to go around and everybody else is just downhill from there. So? Why do I have to ponder these imponderable dilemmas ad nauseam? Why can't you find someone else to torture?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, well, sometimes I have made the mistake of voicing things that really should never be said even if privately thought, I will admit that much. I should be remembering that I cannot never trust these people I am talking to not to repeat everything I say to some other person, whether known or unknown to me, adding to that their own personal twist, not to mention the warped viewpoints of the various recipients of the unintended messages that I had never intended for their ears.

Which Reminds Me

Wikipedia tells us that the Strickland family had some family connection to Catherine Parr, who was the sixth wife of King Henry VIII. She was the one who outlived him. She had already had two husbands before Henry and after Henry she married Thomas Seymour, by whom she had a daughter, Mary Seymour. So, yes, those royal connections can get very confusing. Even so, our ancestors migrated to America not long afterward and since then have not had occasion to know more of English royalty than what is seen in the media. It's not like they would have some reason to personally call us for any reason, especially not after the Boston tea party. Yes, we can easily understand about their reluctance to trade with Boston, given Boston's penchant for industrial pollution of the bay waters mainly for commercial gain. Even so, that said, we cannot just blast Boston off the planet. We might need Boston for something. Boston is a rather important city in the whole scheme of things. So here we are at loggerheads, because, um, so?

Which Reminds Me

During high school, Francis Schaeffer was my biology teacher and Frances Marken was my English teacher. Also, Sharon Turner was John's secretary.

Nevertheless, who this Francis Turner might be I have no idea. We don't really have any personal connection to the Stricklands of the U.K. You would have to track our genealogies back almost to Tudor times to find the connection and, even so, what of that? It's not like this Francis is going to be paying my salary to research that so I don't see the point of this dialogue. There is really nothing to discuss in that regard.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is always so weird the way these stupid Italians imagine that I would want their pathetically stupid "assistance." I would rather shrug them off whenever possible because otherwise they would only entangle me in a huge mess that serves only their own selfish interests and makes me look like an idiot and leaves me without the resources to do that.

Which Reminds Me

So it becomes obvious that you have read at least one book in your shallow and miserably robotic life, proving that you are at best semi-literate with spelling deficiencies, even if that was only a pseudohistorical pseudoscientific pop culture book titled "The Holy Grail" by Goodrich. Well, at least that is better than never having read any book at all. That is probably the best that can be said about your interpretive skills, one can easily imagine.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how did that get all flipped around? You make me feel guilty as if I had been the thief and I don't even know who she was or if that really happened or not. I just started school here not so long ago and don't have any idea who these people are. So just because I criticized your lousy story that doesn't make me a thief. I was just doing my critiquing job. So basically I don't care about your critical attitude problem. I just think you are so full of yourself and not much else.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, so basically, if Meow-rial wishes to file a police report on the theft that according during the party at her house, fine. Call the police department. But this is Literary Club. We are expecting something a little more elaborate and complex in terms of literature to critique here. We are expecting a higher level of self-awareness and comprehension from authors who dare to venture into the literary realm.

Which Reminds Me

The story was about her catching someone stealing her purse, a classmate perhaps, or else a housemaid, at a party in her own house. I don't remember the details of that or who those people were. So the thief was confronted and dispatched to oblivion. So that was about all there was to say about that, just the righteous indignation of the victim of theft. Which is fine, if that had really happened that would be one thing, but it was just a fiction of no interest, not a true story. Don't we all have similar feelings of anger when we are wronged by thieves and robbers? I too was robbed, but life goes on. So what was your point? Just spewing anger all over the paper doesn't really make a very good story of a literary nature. I am just saying.

Which Reminds Me

That was literary club, where I critiqued that story, although I really don't know why that was submitted to a literary club, because for some reason it didn't seem very literary. I only went to the literary club that one time and then I didn't go again because that was just too heavy, having to critique these things generally without being given any idea of what I am really supposed to be doing.

Which Reminds Me

It is clear that stealing is wrong, and even more so if you give weight to the Ten Commandments, particularly the one that says, "Thou shalt not steal." That wasn't the reason why I criticized Meow-riel's story although I can't remember what I said about that at the time. Maybe it was because I thought that her tone was strident and pedantic, her ideas mundane, her plotting mechanism a bit too contrived and artificial, predictable, not very literary, although I really can't remember. My task of the moment was to criticize and so I did that perhaps a bit too zealously. So I suppose if your father is a wealthy doctor you can to to the top and have me killed for not recommending your article for publication, and yet I continue to not have much sympathy for your non-published attitude problem. So? I doubt that I am the sole cause of her article not being published. I was only one of the commentators, not really the last word.

Which Reminds Me

Whether or not I choose to pity and have compassion on this filthy dirty O-scum, or not, what is that to you? You cannot be me. You cannot make my decisions for me. To be or not to be. I do not know what is better, to a or not to a, to b or not to b, to ab or not to ab. Whatever. Even so, I doubt that I could ever oblige you with an O of mine, because I only have As and Bs in me. An O would be someone else's problem because the math for that just isn't inside me. Sorry if I cannot feel guilty about that but I just think you are too weirdly obsessed about bees.

Which Reminds Me

Someone in high school, I don't quite remember who, maybe Kathy or Joan or one of those Italians, was complaining about being regarded as "Top Shelf," which they considered to be an insulting and demeaning thing to say about them. I only overheard them saying this and have no idea what was behind that.

To me, the idea of "Top Shelf" brings to mind thoughts of, maybe, pressure cookers and fancy cake plates and party supplies. A pressure cooker is something that you might not use everyday but you don't want to just throw that away because someday you might need it for something, although you know not what at this moment, so you find some obscure place on the top shelf of a kitchen cabinet to store it so that when the time comes that you need to use it, you can find it.

But you don't look like an inanimate object and/or Mannikin to me, that you should be thinking of shelving and storage options. I just thought you were a human being with blood flowing through your veins just like everybody else in this high school.

So just because I overheard something about "Top Shelf," that is not a reason for you to go to my house and start analyzing all of the objects on the shelf in my bedroom, such as my Spelling Bee trophy, etc. etc. That wouldn't make any sense because I was not the person who said that in the first place. So, basically, that makes you seem really stupid to me, a very dangerous type of stupid. Because, anyway, it wasn't about me at all. So?

Which Reminds Me

Oh yes, how well we remember that it was Miriam who babysat Bob's nasty children, not me, so I refuse to accept responsibility for whatever it was that Miriam did to them. They were sick anyway so probably even Miriam couldn't be held responsible for whatever they did. And whose children were they who called their own mother 'Nana'? I can't quite put all those points together and make any sense of what you are talking about.

Which Reminds Me

Oddly, come to think of it, I don't think that is exactly what Jan said about Terry, although I really can't remember. I really can't see how all those things that my roommates Jan and Joy said got all twisted around into a huge mess. And how did my name get attached to that? I never had the slightest connection to Terry, personal or otherwise, so I have no idea why these broadcasting people imagine they have got something on me. I can easily imagine that broadcasting people can get really mean and nasty when their careers are on the line so obviously it would be wise for non-broadcasting people such as myself to steer clear of them entirely. I would not want to get involved in that type of hiring problematics. So, fine, I will just let them run their own show so as not have to worry about trying to identify persons who are complete strangers to me. I wouldn't know anything about that.

Which Reminds Me

During the time that I lived in Virginia, a roommate of mine, for two or three months, was Jan from North Carolina. Jan actually knew Terry or someone who was close to Terry and was saying some things about her, or things that were said about her by others, but I really don't remember the details of that. I wasn't paying attention to that. I was not so interested in broadcasting people. I was studying print journalism at the time, so whether or not Terry is an obnoxious boring fuddy-duddy I really couldn't say. I really don't care that much to trouble myself with trying to verify something that Jan said which I have long since forgotten and cannot recall to mind as being of no interest.

Which Reminds Me

I seem to remember that when we were living in California we often saw Shasta colas and soft drinks advertised on television. However, I don't recall that brand being a favorite of ours. We were more into Dr. Pepper and some other brands, not so much Shasta cola.

Which Reminds Me

Why were we talking about Mt. Shasta? I have actually never been there, never been that far north, probably Sacramento would be the farthest north, and that only passing through, so I have no idea what that is about. You could always ask the Hunts, who it might seem were originally from that area. Maybe they would remember something.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, there it is. You asked for it, clamoring and begging for it, angling for it and now there it is.

Which Reminds Me

The health and medical professions such as, for example, nurse, of which Linda is one, are well paid and remunerated for their noble work, which is of great value to mankind. Even so, it would be too much of a stretch to classify Linda as a heroine. No, Linda may help deliver the babies in the maternity ward, but she is not their mother, not even their doctor. No one would appreciate Linda poking her nose into the motherhood of her patients. She only sees the babies the day they are born and usually maybe never again.  Just because her surname is Notman, that does not mean she is not represented by a man, specifically her husband who works at the airport, so I think we are counting on Alabama to cut off Linda's empty head, because, anyway, I don't want to be bothered with having to do that.

Which Reminds Me

I don't know why I just don't care about playing the part of a "heroine." If you want to be a surrogate mother to a group of annoying whiners, fine, go right ahead and explain the facts of life to them, thereby blasting Dareda's empty head into a million pieces, which is really the point that you are angling for, obviously. I don't know why I really don't care about being responsible for that or not. Yes, I suppose that I could have taken the opportunity to declare my disgust and shock at Dareda's bizarre statements. On the other hand, I also dislike Pam, who was June Guildwitch's roommate, and resent being forced to converse directly with such an obnoxious busybody who really doesn't deserve a crown just for being a meddlesome big mouth. So basically I just don't want to be bothered. Sorry if that doesn't meet your exalted expectations, but I just don't care.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I really don't have any important information to offer on the subject. I probably wouldn't mind buying frozen peas and carrots from the Jolly Green Giant now and then, but of this other yellow brick road stuff I would probably just think you were talking about a song on the radio maybe, or a movie. I don't know anything. But, even so, there are other things too personal to present for national branding by the Rusty Pelican or similar squawking machine. Some things are just none of your business.

Which Reminds Me

Aren't we all getting a bit tired of the strange wordings emanating from the Interplanetary Group of Ad Checkers? Since when do I have to discuss my personal business with those whiners and complainers whose planetary alliances are not clear to me? I am just saying. I was not necessarily placed here to help you. Oh, are you calling yourself a goddess? I thought you were just a another primitive slave worker on the payroll just like everybody else on this planet, obviously, or how else could you afford such a microphone. We were all supposed to be on the level living in a free and democratic country where everyone is born equal before the law, at least in a legal sense. But you have yet to prove your allegiance to America's Bill of Rights. You only got citizenship by virtue of your marital escapades, not because you have any notion of a U.S. Constitution.

So what is the source of this fictional myth about redheaded women and why should I care? I just thought you were pulling someone's leg, but enough already. The joke has been carried too far already. Get real.

Which Reminds Me

Someone is angling for a story about Stormie's buttons but I am not the one who saw that. I only heard someone talk about Stormie's buttons but I don't remember who that was, maybe Robin although I am not sure. The details get fuzzy after so many years. Sometimes naive and simple-minded people such as Robin are so overwhelmed by the sight of celebrities they are gushing about these details that are really not so germane to the real point of the book, but I wouldn't really know very much about that or who was making an issue about that. I once read one of her books but I can't really say that I would want to do what she did or explain who those people were and why I am hearing someone talking about that. But anyway that is really not a reason not to write a book. I don't have that type of story to tell. A book is not written to explain the details of what not to do, to confess to what was done wrong. Why bother? The book is written when there is a story of redemption and forgiveness worth telling. But I am nobody important so obviously no book would seem appropriate in my case. After all, I'm no Helen.

Which Reminds Me

When I was in college I thought that preppy meant a certain style of clothing that was fashionable amongst the more arrogant snobs such as, mainly, the Italians and the cheerleaders who never seemed to get that some people really didn't like their style very much. Everyone is just scared of preppies such as, mainly, Jennie and some of the cheerleaders, because they will just kill you before you can even get what happened. So that was my opinion of Mrs. Dixie and her clique of preppy snobs, that basically I would rather live without a teaching certification than have to try to catch up with that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that didn't help me at all, to have Mrs. Dixie Witch screaming in my face, just another reason to avoid those people in future because they don't like me so obviously I can't have them running my life. I would just fail at everything with Mrs. Dixi Witch running the show.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember that when I was in college I liked the music of Keith Green, but of him personally I know nothing. I do remember him giving a concert at our college, and then later Sharon Baldwin was saying that never happened, that he never performed at our college, and yet other people said they have vivid memories of his amazing performance at our college. So I tend to think that maybe I do remember something of that. Didn't he perform with bare feet on the piano pedals? Also, during my senior year someone was telling us that he was a sound man at the studio where Keith Green was recording and that Keith Green was having some cranky moments with the people who worked there. I only remember some third-party stuff that one person was saying so I really cannot comment on that in any authoritative way. I liked Keith Green's music, although I wasn't watching that under a microscope but his career was very short, having died so young in an airplane accident, so there is really nothing that we can add to that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, you were talking about the value of underwater basket weaving as a college major and how often the value of such skills is not recognized by society generally speaking. Yes, well, however that may be, a college major as underwater basket weaving would prove of no value if no jobs exist for underwater basket weavers, thus leaving such college graduates financially stranded and incapacitated and unable to pay the rent. So this is the central, most serious problem from the viewpoint of the graduate of underwater basket weaving programs nationwide.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, was someone teasing you about your donkey ears? Obviously I wouldn't know anything about that. And, assuming so, would a jab at my so-called 'rabbit' ears be an appropriate response to that? I wouldn't be able to make the connection without some very extensive research so probably I would just think that you were mean. It just wouldn't make any sense. Just another of life's little puzzles that just wouldn't be worth the brain power to ponder so excessively.

Which Reminds Me

Why are the Baptists so frantic to associate themselves with the Italian Medici family? Are they anticipating some future news of perhaps a marital alliance of the Medici clan with the royals of England? Wouldn't that just finish the collapse of the Protestant religion? But anyway I wouldn't have any idea of that type of thing. I am nobody important to be talking about these political matters, just a creature of time and circumstance. I don't have any idea of why that would affect my future in any way.

Which Reminds Me

There is no Helen at this address, and similarly there is no Hunt here. The Hunts live in Texas but they are nobody important, just some distant relatives we don't know very much about. Nobody is really listening to them so it is hard for us to understand what their backstage deals might be when actually nobody really cares that much. After the Alliance turned Baptist we rarely ever talked to them about anything. You really can't pick your relatives. They're just there pretending to rule the universe all the while without consulting the rest of us as to what we ought to be doing.

Which Reminds Me

I never was aware of the existence of Helen.

You are the ones who came to thrust upon me all this Helen garbage when actually I just thought you were talking about a song. Hear me roar.

So why are these silly Midwest dogs nattering about nothing much? I didn't ask them to target me. I really don't want to hear about all of Helen's publishing woes. All of these clues are making me curious to hear more and yet, even so, I can live without that. My salvation comes from faith in Jesus, not from the machinations of some Italian medicinal technicians. All these people who don't know a Methodist from a Catholic from a Presbyterian are no help to me so I really owe them nothing.

Notwithstanding all of this commotion, killing me would do nothing to heal Babylon. I am just saying, I don't know anything about that. Maybe I should read more books.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, what exactly does this dreary horrid witch Debbie Storm think that she can do to me? We were never acquainted on any level with those stupid Midwest dogs, bad Cooks for sure, always looking and never finding the reincarnation of Helen. Helen died many years ago and she is never going to be found here so just go home and stop bothering us.

Which Reminds Me

There is no reason for me to tremble and quake in fear at hearing of the idiot rantings of the pathetically stupid trash can Debbie Storm, who is married to some pathetically stupid Cook. The Cooks are nothing for me to be intimidated by. I heard recently that they are very ILL, but I know not  the details of that.

Which Reminds Me

How many times do I have to remind you that there is no Helen at this address? They often refer to Helen D. Calkins who lived in India as a child, the daughter of Methodist missionaries, but we are not related to them and never met them and don't know one thing about them. Those people are all dead and gone now so we have no idea where these imposters came from. We here disavow any connection to the Creepy Crawleys of Michigan. I did have a Creepy Crawley toy set as a child but that was a whole different story.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, what was that joke about TV game shows, something about "The Price is Right"? The presenter shows you three doors, but you can only choose one door. Only one of those doors offers a prize if opened. The other doors may have lesser rewards but only one door has the big prize.

But my door is blocked because, obviously, I have never been to Mount Shasta and don't know anything about that. I wasn't there at the time so I don't see where that came from.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do wish that I could have adhered more strictly to the Thumper Rabbit paradigm. However, something broke, actually they broke something, and thus I was forced to leave Thumper Rabbit in the dust, not that I was planning to parrot exactly the silly things that were going through your empty head, but, yes, I was forced to do that. Which is unfortunate because I had entirely forgotten about June's silly stuff. I really didn't want those silly people running my life which is another reason to never go back there.

Which Reminds Me

I seem to remember that our dorm floor also includes the voices of the Keating? sisters from Oklahoma City. The younger Keating sister was a pathetically stupid little monstrosity and/or celebrated disinformant of whom I remember almost nothing, just that she was close friends with Judy Umstead from Pennsylvania, of whom there is also really nothing nice to say so, as the Thumper, Bambi's Rabbit friend, might say, "Shh! say nothing. "