Which Reminds Me

Yes, I too noticed how vulgar horrid Lisa is all wound up like a top. What got her all puffed up and stuck to the ceiling I have no idea, but it does get annoying to be detecting the same old recycled and worn-out jokes over and over again from the same or similar sources because obviously they have no new material to work with. I have been very careful to mostly avoid socializing with the worthless white trash Moureclaydian gang. I don't recall ever inviting them to my house or discussing anything of a personal nature with them that they should be imagining that I owe them something. I prefer not to be dragged down to the low level of Clay. I have been very careful to avoid the wicked people of Louisiana, where the wicked depravities of Mr. Wolsey have so far seemed to go undetected by law enforcement.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was talking about the nun who was teaching a class at our high school. I never saw the nun or took that class myself. I cannot remember what was said about the nun. I really have no opinion on the subject of that specific nun. I sort of feel sorry for these nuns. They never get a break from their own rude and boorish Irish Catholics who cruelly abuse and mistreat them, so why should I gratuitously add to the burden that their own religion and social structure compels them to bear? Yes, I think that I do not remember what the students complaints were as regards to the nun.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember that someone was talking about the Methodist church denomination and how in America there was a political split between the north and south, reminiscent of civil war associations. Yes, well, there was a civil war in the 1860s, although the generations of that conflict are all gone now and the lines are somewhat blurred from what they used to be. I never had strong feelings about that. The McClellans were dissenting Unionists in the Rebel state of Texas. How could that be? How can you protest the Confederate policies when you have to obey the government at the same time? Yes, life gets complicated.

Which Reminds Me

What is the matter, Mr. Gardner? Don't you have any brains? What's the matter? Stuck kissing that horrible Irene Void? Why should I care about the stupid Void family. That is not my problem. My surname is spelled C-a-l-k-i-n-s, NOT E-l-k-i-n-s. I do not think that we are related, needless to say. All KINS might be related if only you could track us all back to the original Garden (of Eden, that is), but there is no point to be made in this regard, other than to unnecessarily harass poor me. I do not deserve this level of harassment.

Which Reminds Me

If you were expecting The Widener Foundation to pick up the tab for all your depravities. you might be disappointed. It is not so easy to apply for welfare assistance from rich people. Where is the website to submit your request? No, you have to know them. They have to know you personally. You have to be their friend or recommended by their friends. You have to be in Philadelphia. Yes, never. Never. There is nothing in Pennsylvania worth mentioning if all you want is attention of The Widener Foundation.

Which Reminds Me

Our high school mascot was a Trojan, but someone was saying that there were some people who, not wanting to be considered losers of the Trojan War, preferred to call themselves the Spartans. The Spartans beat the Persians. Yes, I suppose a broken clock is right once or twice a day. But I don't remember who they were. And then someone was saying that the Spartans were combative to a suicidal extent, and then later Latins beat the Greeks and what was left of the Spartans. And the Latins and/or Romans still think they have the upper hand, that their job is to conquer us. I do not think that I need that. But of course, if you insist on the conquering role, I could always evacuate the planet and leave things at your disposal. That seems the Christian way to walk the extra mile. Let us see how you deal with the migratory crises. Don't be expecting me to say something about that. You are expected to govern yourselves in an appropriate way, but I am not allowed to be the judge of that.

Which Reminds Me

There was a missionary to China by the name of Dixon, not to be confused with Eleanor Dixon, the heiress of the famous Widener family of Pennsylvania, whose father died in the Titanic shipwreck, not to be confused with the Weidmans who were missionaries in Africa. Although these factoids do not tell me anything. I don't know anything about it. I never noticed that.

Which Reminds Me

I do not appreciate being continuously insulted by inarticulate Witches of various geographical orientations. If you have a specific comment or guestion fine, but just to pull on my leg and ambush me with various humiliations is not a nice thing for you to do, needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I see that you wish to stage some sort of “Gone with the Wind” scenario in which I am to cry and bemoan my fate in the role of Scarlett, thus to cry out in despair, “What am I going to do?” after being abandoned by Rhett Butler, thus tominvite his further contempt: “Frankly my dear ....” Except that this role does not fit me at all. I feel myself utterly indifferent to the dreary bores of Atlanta. I doubt that I would ever go there just to be thus insulted. Perhaps you have mistaken me for Sharon, whose conniving ways are more clearly in view than ever, thank you very much. Is Sharon angling to kiss Ted’s butt? Your guess would be as good as mine in this matter.

Which Reminds Me

We wish to avoid getting stuck in the bog.

The only thing I know about Samuel Sokobin is that he once signed my great-grandfather's passport application at Shanghai. The validity of the U.S. passport cannot be questioned, never mind about Sokobin's personal domestic situation. He was a Jewish man who married an Irish woman. Even so, these domestic facts are of little or no concern to those persons whose passports were signed by the man at work. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Something happened in 1916 to my great-grandfather while he was in China because later, in 1917, he had to apply at Shanghai for a new passport, his application signed by Samuel Sokobin, who was an American vice consul there at the time.

In contrast, the consular registration application of Carl Weaks in 1916 is signed by Lester ?, also a vice consul. How can that be? Could it be that there was a personal shift at the U.S. consulate between 1916 and 1917? If Carmen was fired, well, that would make perfect sense. But what do you know? You have no access to personnel files of U.S. consulates. la di da. There you go again, chanting "Weaks, Weaks, Weaks," as if that meant something.

Thus we see an entirely useless widget was created that does nothing helpful or useful, only adds to the confusion of persons who now imagine that Carl Weaks has somg connection to this story when actually, no, we have no idea who this Carl Weaks might be, at least not that we know of.

And how can I fill in all these blanks if there is no access to the real story? No, we are continually tormented by stupid widgets that contribute nothing to the understanding of the true meaning of the story, created by persons who do not wish me well. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

How stupid all you people are, thus to glorify the stupid bimbo of Titanic movie fame! Did her mother never teach her anything?

Which Reminds Me

I cannot be expected to keep track of all these people. Whose Titanic car is that rusting at the bottom of the sea? I can only be certain that it doen't belong to me.

Which Reminds Me

I see that a few years ago I was doing some research on Carl Weaks. I seem to have forgotten who was Carl Weaks and why would I be looking up such people who also were in China, Shanghai and Hong Kong, at about the same time that my great-grandparents were there, later dying in Nashville, Tenn., in 1957? Could it be that Mr. Weaks also applied for a passport at Shanghai? Yes, you can do that, apparently. You probably should register with the U.S. consul so they know that you are there in case your dead body is found somewhere lying about or in case you inadvertently trigger some strange international incident or something. Even so, we never had the slightest connection to Carl Weaks and whatever he was doing in China, at least not that I know of. Hundreds of Americans were coming and going in Shanghai at the time. I cannot be expected to explain what all these people are doing here.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am so clueless. In fourth grade I still sort of believed in Santa Claus but the Davenport children, Cheryl and David, corrected us on this point, informing us point blank that there is no Santa Claus. All of that nonsense of the hot chocolate and cookies disappearing overnight is so ridiculous, they told us. All those gifts labeled 'From Santa' are from your parents, you dummies.

Which Reminds Me

At a time when I was living in Southern California, I once attended a creative writing class. A short story called "The Lottery" was featured as an important example of American fiction, which it unarguably is, if fiction is what you are into. I cannot remember what projects I did for that class if any. I don't remember very much about that class or why this "Lottery" theme continues so persistently so many years later. Very strange.

Which Reminds Me

Hey, wasn't Judas Iscariot the bad guy who betrayed Jesus in the New Testament story? He had his hand in the till, it was said, withdrawing sums for his own purposes, and then sold himself out as an informant, and then later hanged himself. Which leaves an open-ended question of whatever happened to the money? Not the Potter's field money from 30 pieces of silver. We mean the other money that Judas had previously tended, whatever donations or gifts of gold from the Magi or something along those lines. With the accountant Judas gone, they will need to find a replacement to take over that job position, but the record is ambiguous. Was it Bartholomew or Nathaniel who was elected to the job? How did they finance the Bartholomew's Fair? But that was a thousand years later. And why should I trouble myself about this question? Aren't the churches of Europe swimming in surplus money? I am sure they have many eminently qualified persons to account for the money without some chatterbox commentaries from me or some other annoying persons, thank you very much.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, the game those girls are playing has something to do with a Persian harem scenario in which there is only one man to 20 or 30 women, all trying to trick the lowest ranking courtesan out of any presumption of having a husband all to herself. Or something like that. Because they are trashy horrid girls, needless to say. Why would I want to talk about that? I don't want to be a character in their private fiction, needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is a very dangerous thing to attempt the navigation through the Straits of Magellan. Coming round the bend I think I see over there David's lifeless corpse skewered on the jagged rocks. Hmm... He must have crashed himself somehow. Sad. Which brings to mind a word to the wise: Translate first. Only later, after translation, can you see your way clear to steer around all those perilous rocks.

Which Reminds Me

And where is your certificate of Chinese studies and/or fluency in the Chinese language? You are disqualified from srving, being even more clueless than I am, although that is not saying much. You are not prepared to tackle this most difficult topic. Your rowing machine is a piece of fictional junk, nothing more. I was disabused of this fiction bent at an early age. The truth will not bear it. We must have the historical record first. No fictional account will work without a historical framework in view. You could be rowing yourselves straight to ORU Hell and not even know it. I do not want my story told by some clueless chatterbox from ORU Hell, needless to say. Be content with your Broadway consolation prize because that is all you can get. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

I vaguely remember that during college at SCC one year there appeared a girl who was a backup singer for famous rock bands and had already recorded her own music album. I don't know whether she was there beyond one semester. She seemed to disappear quickly from the college scene. I don't remember her name. I only remember some scathing remarks that Barbara Kraiss, the wife of the college president, said in regards to her. That is the only thing that I can remember about that, just something that Barbara said. But it makes sense that she could not make it in college. When it comes to the arts, you really cannot do much there if you are not plugged into the AG system.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was talking about Rochester, the city in upstate New York which was the location of Elizabeth V. Baker's ministry in the late 1800s and early 1900s. She died in 1915, so it has been about 100 years since the five Duncan sisters were running the Pentecostal show in Rochester. Not much is left of that, just some copies of a defunct magazine, "Trust," and some buildings they left behind. No one living can remember who they were, or, well, at least I had never heard of them until you were saying something about that. And your point was?

Which Reminds Me

The other plot line that was thrown at me was that of the hated rich girl, even though I have not that much play money to work with except when playing the "Monopoly" board game. Which makes me wonder who is this wicked rich girl. And then I have to bankrupt myself to figure out what they are even talking about, and even so, I still don't get it. So what? I know who I am even if the people don't have a clue. Which is sad but when I do not have two dimes to rub together, I really cannot help you with that.

In Latin America, many of the poor people automatically think that all white people are rich, based on superficial appearances, even though it is not so. But I really would prefer not to have to elaborate on that point.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember that I wrote a fictional short story when I was 10 years old. It was sort of inspired by the plot of the novel 'Heidi,' which I had read at Grandma Calkins' house. At the time, there happened to be a man visiting our house in El Salvador, Jack Garlick, who lives in Ecuador. I must have showed it to him because he read it and said that it was great and to mail it to the GPH for possible publication in the Sunday School papers. Well, I actually never sent it anywhere. I am only 10 years old and I don't feel confident that my story would be that good. But apparently Jack went home to Ecuador and made some arrangements in regards to my future writing career, even though I am only 10 years old and am not sure whether I will ever feel confident enough to write another thing. Also, I don't work for the Garlick family. Nor do I work for Ecuador. It is really none of Carol Garlick's business what I do with the rest of my life. I can't have them running me around in circles. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, some people may be asking how all this deadly poison emanated from a cranium the size of a snake. Well, that's just how it is. And you were asking me to stick my hand in the cage that houses all of those evil snakes and vipers so eulogized with national honors. Well, guess what, I am not that stupid.

Which Reminds Me

The question remains as to what did Mr. Longwell do with all the money that he took from Dr. Riffle-Raffle. I do not have any idea why I should care about that. It seems to me that the money belonged to Dr. Riffle-Raffle so that was his problem, not mine. Dr. Riffle-Raffle can do whatever he wants with his money but that was no concern of mine. What else happened in regards to that is not clear to me.

Which Reminds Me

My great-great-grandmother was Amanda Melvina Fitzallen Moore (1827-1882), but you already knew that if you have your own copy of ye old family history book.

Which Reminds Me

It would be interesting to hear the real story about that, but until we get the corrected paperwork in hand we can only regurgitate what has already been done before us.

Which Reminds Me

Dr. Riffle-Raffle belonged to an unusual sect of Catholicism. Which reminds me that the Catholic voice was heard online saying that they are planning a hit on the Freemasons, or something along that lines. Hmmm.... So? We are not Freemasons so why are you putting us in jail? And another one of our accusers is Mr. Schmidt, who is well known among the Freemasons. So are you just saying that to obsfucate your true intentions of helping the Freemasons? Does not compute.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, we are amazed at the generosity of Dr. Riffle-Raffle. Whenever Samuel Longwell, a lowly cook at a hotel in Los Angeles, although I am only guessing on his occupation, happened to be visiting San Francisco, which occurred at frequent intervals, he would stop in for tea at Dr. Riffle-Raffle's place. Dr. Riffle-Raffle seems to have kindly donated large chunks of cash to whatever the cause might be that Longwell was promoting at the time. Whatever happened later is less clear. Why did Dr. Riffle-Raffle suddenly turn so hostile and forget about his previous generosity? Why did Mr. Longwell forget to tell us about this secret meetings? We will have to bring Mr. Longwell to court to explain himself, if he can.

Which Reminds Me

Maybe you could explain to us about this secret deal that you made with the backstabbing traitors of ORU Hell, steered by that celebritous drunk driver. I personally could not care less about ORU. Those people are not our friends. They just want to win at any cost, even if that means killing us, so obviously that is not going to work for me.

What reasonable dialogue could I possibly have with this wicked Mr. Samuel-Wray-Longwell-Riffle-Raffle? He was sentenced to a year in the San Francisco jail for unloading the vault in dramatic style, and yet who knows if he actually spent time in jail or got off on some technicality.

Not to be confused with Dr. Riffle's friend Earl, who did time at Sing-Sing on other charges. Not to be confused with Earl, Cousin Mildred's husband.

I am confused now. What are you saying, that I should pay the penalty for Samuel's criminal activities? Who is on trial? What are you asking? No, you didn't ask, you just jumped to conclusions without double-checking your facts, never producing the missing paperwork. So what? Why should we care about obscure events of 1950?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I know, you just think that my whole life is a huge joke.

Even so, for the sake of continuing the scripted routine:

Why is this wonton Rowing bimbo always screaming in my face? I didn't even know these people existed. Helen who? Harvey who? Yes, you can win by lies and deceits and/or conceits, obviously, but you cannot really keep that forever. Did you really win the game or did you just kick the can down the road? They will catch you eventually if you cannot find a way to get off your high horse voluntarily, even if I may not live long enough to see that. I sometimes think I hear echoes of Cindy Hurd's wicked butt sizzling on the grill. Was she your third cousin or something? Since when do I have to show my report card to the trashy Herd bimbos of Michigan? I have no connection to Michigan. Does not compute.

Anyway, it is not my fault that Stephanie sold herself a slave of the stupid Rowing Machine. Row row row. It never stops until death do us part, as the saying goes. And why should I waste my talents on some cheapskate junky low-class Montgomery Ward department store? They went out of business long ago. You have your place although I cannot say that I was even aware of your existence until recently, and even so, why should I care about that? What is wrong with you? Why are you so worked up into a frothy wrath about nothing? The Bible tells me to keep my eyes on the prize of the high calling of God. I don't take my orders from some wicked Rowing Machine bimbo. Needless to say

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that during my first year of college at SCC there was some person named Vanessa who lived down the hall, on the same floor. She was a horribly wicked nightclubbing type of person, totally out of place in our Christian college. What is this snarky Vanessa doing at our college. She doesn't belong here.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember having made the acquaintance of some Moore people, but I haven't seen them for nearly 30 years now. After they so cruelly stabbed me in the back, it would be hard for them to come back around pretending to still be friends of mine. The double-crossing of Joy is too public now for them to continue the dissimulation so there is nothing further that I would need to say about that. I have other things to do than worry about than those insignificant former acquaintances.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, thanks! So now we all have to sit here and listen to the mediocrities of caterwauling Dana Heinriks because she is so aggressive. But Johnny died quite a while ago so Dana will have to find herself another booking agent because nobody else really cared enough to do that.

Which Reminds Me

The last time I saw Lois was several years ago, she was here at our house and the only thing that she talked about that I can recall is how she was carrying on about how she wanted to stop somewhere to buy a douche. Strange, but then again Lois is sort of weird.

Which Reminds Me

And why should I be required to eat the vomitings of those filthy Mexican "Bueno" pigs? Stay in your own Mexican pig sty, you worthless "Bueno" pigs. It is a very long way down to Mexico. Yes, that might be something to think of, although I had never thought of saying that, but not a Christian message that anyone would allow to be broadcast on their channel, probably. We must have pity and compassion upon these alien Mexican creatures even though we would prefer not to be contaminated by their unexplained mental aberrations.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it was often said of Cousin Gradin that he was always seeking, never finding. Although we once visited their house in Palm Springs when I was a child, I do not remember one thing about him. However, I have often heard the voice of his daughter Stephanie circulating in the ozone layer. She was said to be a very talented painter/artist, but with such uniquely Bohemian-style parents as hers were said to be, she cannot be said to represent the rest of the family, generally speaking. Her voice does not necessarily represent anything that we would think of saying about that, although it is said that her paintings are very successful in terms of art marketing. Whether Cousin Gradin ever found the ultimate solution that he was seeking, we really cannot say. He died and we just won't know in this lifetime whether he ever proved the Cherokee theory to anyone's satisfaction. Even so, we cannot just shove the right answers down people's throats. We must allow them in every generation to make their own decisions on whom they will serve, for better or for worse. You must decide for yourself whether to serve God or whether to serve Waldara. We really wouldn't know anything about that. Why would we?

Which Reminds Me

We are constantly amazed at the greedy, gold-digging opportunism of you. How did you manage to weasel your way into a minor language mishap and turn it into a World War III scenario? Only one thing is certain to me, the Buenos do not deserve such a high level of protection against the consequences of their own stupidity. At least not in my opinion. But I am not allowed to say that. I have to just walk the extra mile because they are too powerful for me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, needless to say, the entire burden of guilt rests upon them. There is no way the "Bueno" family can shirk their responsibility for slangily delving into Chilean politics of an unsavory nature. I certainly never did that.

Which Reminds Me

When I finally get through cleaning Max's broken clock, those Mexican dogs will have nothing to do but cringe in shame and slink away in disgrace, their tails tucked away, because Max is lying. Why can't Max just tell the truth in a straightforward way without trying to incriminate me at every step? That is not how it happened. Needless to say.

But how mean of me to say that? Am I not supposed to turn the other cheek and not take a Christian brother all the way to the courthouse? But if you want war....

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I agree to clean my own bathroom. As long as you are only a guest so you are not allowed to do that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember confessing that I rather like malted milk balls, chocolate-coated of course, although the occasions of eating them are few.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely recall Gene Napier, who was a co-worker when I was living and working in California, but later he quit and he and his wife moved up north to Stockton. At another time I was visiting my relatives in that area before leaving California and I saw Gene and his wife walking in a parking lot outside of Stockton. I was with my cousin Richard. So that chance encounter was a bit shocking. How often do you ever run into people you know from work outside of a supermarket? Coincidentally, I am pretty sure I have some other distant relatives who live in the Modesto/Stockton area but I haven't seen them in many years.

Which Reminds Me

As a small child I remember my grandfather McClellan telling me the story of how George Washington as a child chopped down the cherry tree and when confronted with his wrongdoing, was forced to confess because "I cannot tell a lie." George Washington's devotion to telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth propelled him to the presidency of the United States. And wouldn't I like to make such a vow? Well, I cannot say wholeheartedly that I deserve to try to fill George Washington's shoes. I cannot remember, when did I lie to you? We never even talked so obviously that never happened.

Which Reminds Me

Why, you wicked sinners, how dare you accuse me of something that I did not do! What I only saw in slide show pictures or read of in books, you actually did, so you cannot later really presume to be so self-righteous, when you probably know better than I how you cobbled together some false accusations, always at my expense.

Unless I could somehow be convicted of guilt by association. Jesus associated with sinners and yet was considered as perfect and sinless. But he was the Son of God. It is not so easy for a mere mortal girl to associate with these vulgar hideous people and then later be able to shake off the filth of them without a blemish on my complexion.

But then again I am under so much pressure to have a social life.