Which Reminds Me

Yes, why is this blithering idiot Gordon always screaming at me? I was not aware of his existence at the time that I was there. I wasn't paying attention to the goings on at that mansion across the fence. Cheryl seemed to know all about them, but I did not stick around long enough to learn much about that. How ridiculous to assume that I had some weird plan with him in mind. A total fiction concocted no doubt by that ridiculously stupid bimbo Terry, a vapid beauty queen of "Zero" academic distinction. Absurd!

Which Reminds Me

Yes, and speaking of the military cousins, I have a very hard time understanding why I would be required to feel sorry for those vicious nasty little Butterskunk piggies. I so much don't care if I never see them again this lifetime, especially not after this nationally authorized pity party they have been throwing for themselves, as if the entire world should revolve around only them and their selfish greedy agenda, and anyway there never was something nice to say about those horrid little monsters, and I say that after you sent those nasty horrid Italian CIA agents to viciously hiss and screech at me throughout high school, as if I even know what they were talking about. So was I supposed to thank everybody for nothing much? I try to be nice but then again nobody seems to be have a brain, so why waste my time and energies on this pile of nonsense?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am vaguely aware that some of my cousins belong to the U.S. military. So that was their choice. However, I don't understand why you seem to imagine that we were ever a military family. There was no law requiring enlistment, although there benefits to that certainly if that is what they want to do. Even so, I see that you already have the token military members contributed by our family in the person of those cousins, so what more is there to discuss? I really don't see your points.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is somewhat distracting, this wondering how I am supposed to pay off all these bills all the while doing all of this unprofitable homework that you are constantly demanding for free, never a thought about my financial needs and how am I suppose to function in this broken scenario.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely recall the existence of Mr. Wright, who is an acquaintance of ours, he and his family, nice people perhaps but no relation of mine. The huge W tacked on to his surname reveals him to be "Mr. Wrong" as far as I am concerned. And I am always right, never wrong, on this point. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that was a strangely insulting plan that you had concocted for me, in which I am to be dropped off at the amusement park where all my time will be consumed in being thrown and tossed about by the carnival machines, and in the meantime you will have gone home to have a normal life doing important things that matter. Um, thanks. Oh, was there some reason to be mindful of that? Amusement parks have their places, and I have had my share of that, certainly, but who says that my life doesn't matter? Why can't I get my grip to slam the ball back at you annoying whiner swine?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does seem somewhat strange to find these unknown persons in the background chattering about my life and what I am going to do with my property, when I don't yet know much about that, nor do I necessarily care about their wild imaginations. My mother might have various pans cooking on the stove, but I was not in any great hurry to do something about that, especially given the lack of actual practical value (will they keep that in reserve for another hundred years? and who can say whether there will ever be any profits?)  and the huge hassle that might be entailed to even figure out what's what and where is the starting point.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember hearing my parents mentioning on some occasions that they at one time were working at a church in Redwood City, California. My Dad was working as an assistant pastor under Pastor Scratch. However, I only remember some things I heard them saying about that, because at that time I was not born yet. I was not born until after they left there, so obviously I cannot remember anything firsthand about Redwood City. When I think about Redwood City, my mind just goes blank.  A few years ago I do remember hearing some online commotion from Heidi, who attended my college, and I do remember seeing her face around campus, although we were not personally acquainted. I wasn't paying that much attention at the time so that I really cannot comment. What did you say? Somebody there still remembers that I existed? Well, fancy that! And you wanted to trade places with me? I don't recommend borrowing somebody else's life. Life is already complicated enough without adding all of your problems to the mix.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is perhaps that I lied when I said that I hated you. I really don't hate you, but these Mata Hari jokes are really getting on my nerves. Which one of you is Mata Hari's granddaughter? I don't have time for these irrelevant questions that are of no concern to me. It just doesn't matter now, does it?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I can imagine that some people in our high school probably think that all roads lead to Atlanta, because the Baptist missionary from Georgia seems to have been very busy behind the scenes making all sorts of interesting and mysterious deals and arrangements of which we were never informed because we were, in a sense, friendly competitors, even though attending the same schools. I personally do not feel any great need or desire to check in with Atlanta on every little point, they have their places, but there are some unhinged people who are seemingly addicted to that form of communication and seem to be stuck on some points of a trivial pursuit nature, so that perhaps only to clarify a couple of things we have necessarily condescended to use that format for a short time, even though I don't really feel any great need to continue communicating with those irrelevant people forever. There comes a time when we must set aside these trivial, insignificant and irrelevant hobbies and go out and get a real job that pays the rent. I am just saying.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, and here I am, not seeing how the trashy green hoe has anything to be telling me. I will tell you what, not the other way around, but first you have to ask the right question. Wong question: No comment. But of course, these rich people are such selfish greedy pigs who think that everything is all about them.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, all of which gives the mistaken and wrong impression that I would want to profit from my grandmother's big mistake. No no no. We cannot have any licorice profits in this picture. Take your stupid whine money and go wherever it is you have to go, but don't be expecting me to care about that, because actually I don't. I don't care about that. We know about your vinegary bitterness and we don't care to emulate that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, did I inadvertently disqualify myself from that New York job that I never applied and never wanted? I hope that you learned your lesson to never recommend me for anything so ridiculously non-applicable behind my back without me having thought of that. True, there are always all those many people who applied and lost, only to serve as contrast for the one winner who rises above the pack. But obviously it has already been predetermined that the winner will not be me. Didn't you get the memo? How many failed job applications can one person handle before giving up in utter despair?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do enjoy listening to and/or reading interesting stories about people. Sometimes people have inspiring stories to tell or interesting pieces of information. Once in high school I vaguely remember hearing an interesting story about the house of David. I once tried to repeat that and then realized I really did not understand what I had overheard, so that it would really be much too dangerous for me to make the attempt. If you really are interested in hearing more about David's house, I would recommend that you get that directly from Marion. She might not be a U.S. citizen, but even so she might have some interesting information about that, if you can find her phone number somewhere. I can't quite remember what I heard about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, having seen the movie, "The Wizard of Oz," it does make you now wonder whether there really was such a person as depicted in the movie and also book, who may have inadvertently stepped through some loophole behind the old house, and suddenly found herself in another land inhabited by another people, although whether her name was Dorothy is questionable, given that Baum named his fictional heroine after an infant girl who died at five months of age.

Just because my Dad's uncle, Sam, coincidentally had a daughter named Dorothy, that is not any sort of Oz connection worth mentioning. Those whiners will do whatever they want, and we will all just be sitting around for a long time afterward wondering what happened and how the one thing that I said morphed into that, because they just do whatever they want. Besides, the military probably already has all of this archival matter stored away somewhere, and there is no reason to doubt they will be doing their job with view toward national security given that the government pays them well to keep track of these important matters. There is no reason for us to get all bent out of shape trying to second guess that.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, did I inadvertently drop your Italian Whiner shop butts off at the corner drugstore? Oh, sorry about that, but anyway, I basically loathe wine culture.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does make you wonder, why are the stupid repugnant roadhogs of Iowa always screaming at me about nothing much. And here I am, not giving a hoot about the idiotic rantings of Iowa. I really could not care less about your bombing exploits. You had your chance and you bombed already and now it is mainly a matter of clearing up the wreckage you left behind.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there you go again with that confused notion about Hazel, who was their grandmother, NOT mine. I only met Hazel from Alabama once, but from everything that I have heard, it is possible that she was suffering from a mental illness that would be difficult to describe apart from polite company. But anyway, Hazel is YOUR problem, NOT mine. I never did hear whether her mental illness was contagious, but either way I was not planning to go to Alabama to learn more about that. I cannot be expected to keep track of all these people.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is a bit puzzling to hear these people accusing me of "hating" them. The word "hate" seems much too strong for describing any sort of feeling toward persons of whose existence I am barely aware, and for which reason my feeling is better described as indifference. Yes, it was a bit thoughtless of me to call you David "Goat Legs," in part because of those odd short pants that you were wearing to school, nobody else wears that in the classroom, only you guys from Down Under, and I have no expectation of ever being forgiven by such an angry person, and for that reason I will have no time for further pointless argumentations.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember hearing about the Melting Pot restaurant, said to be a place of delicious fondue, according to what Susie said. The Melting Pot has a special meaning for Susie, I do remember her talking about that in her mysterious way, in which she often denotes information as something that I am not entitled to hear more about. But that is how they always are. They have all of these mysterious secrets and I only heard a half-baked version of that, enough to hint that there is more to that story than I know about, but unfortunately I wasn't invited to the original dinner party so there is not much more that I can say or do about the Melting Pot. It is what it is, a place for delicious fondue if you like that sort of thing.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am looking forward to returning to the U.S., where it will be easier to throw this worthless Johnson slop overboard. When I get to heaven I will have no need of this Johnson debris. Oh, is that pestiferous Carol Garlic I hear screeching in the background?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, we are finally now seeing some improvements in the genre of "reality show." We are not asking you to reenact Robinson Crusoe's island adventures with a vomit-inducing X-rated twist. We only want to not have our intelligence insulted by these ridiculous hacks. We prefer not to be insulted by this suggestion that I were in any way connected to the annoying Johnson brothers. I do remember hearing them boast of their vast inherited wealth, even if they were never the elected. For that they are wholly dependent on Kennedy. I do not understand why the dreary Johnsons are still hovering about and angling to throw darts at me. I really could not care less if I never see them again in this lifetime. Yes, I vaguely remember hearing that my grandmother's friend or distant relative was at one time an employee of Lady Bird, but I do not know one more thing about that. What was her name? I just have no idea. Besides which my grandmother was a Republican. So you're just barking up the wrong tree. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that was nice of the people in the advertising department to invite me to their little Christmas party, even though I really don't belong there. There was that photo posted on the wall of everybody at that little restaurant or something down the street from work where it was held, and I stopped in for a few minutes after work before going home. We have to be appreciative of the hard work of the advertising people who bring in the money that pays for the space to write all of the articles. Without the writers, the paper would only be a shopper. But without the advertising, there would be no paper. So if the paper is going to shrink that much, everybody can just go home now and find some other line of work.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, sorry, I did skip over the Donna medals, didn't need that for this picture. And anyway, since when do we in the U.S. give medals and laureates to ethnically Russian persons who might be suspected of working as KGB agents on the side, after having stabbed me in the back in that clever way? For that type of prize you might have more luck going home to Russia, or Europe, because we don't care so much about that here. Or else maybe you could apply for the mob job of "Union Maid" so oddly promoted by the CIA, because I certainly don't need that. Labor Unions do have their benefits for those blue collar workers, and the mob bosses who run their lives from cradle to grave, but all of my jobs have been of the non-Union variety, so far at least. Sorry if that disappoints some the crowing mob activists, but the world is not just one big "Utopia." Life is more complicated than that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, well, if we never stopped to chat then, much less is there going to be time for that later, given the entire lack of any law or regulation requiring me to check in with New York hub to "prove" something at every step of the way, or to have my itinerary reviewed by annoying Blondies who never did have my real phone number. I would rather kill myself than talk to those people. Not on those terms.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, well, perhaps the term "fight" would be too strong, perhaps the term minor "altercation" would be more appropriate to described some type of conflict that I did not actually see, only heard about because in a classroom Margot was chattering loudly about that to everyone within earshot, so I cannot really say more than what I heard, because, I don't why, there seemed to be more antipathy there expressed by Margot at the time than merely an inadvertent classroom mishap, but anyway I really do not know anything about that. I was not aware of any rule requiring me to take sides in the matter of Cruz vs. De La Guardia, no one ever said anything about that until now, suddenly someone is trying to make that into something more of an issue, perhaps because the best friend and pal/companion of Cruz was Kathy from the CIA, so obviously, having monopolized the ear of the CIA, some arrangements would probably have been made by them on their behalf, although I do not see how that has anything to do with me. That is their private personal conflict and it would much too presumptuous of me to involve myself in such a personal matter of no concern to me.

Which Reminds Me

And there I was in high school, all the time thinking that in 9th grade, that I had heard something about the classroom fight between two girls, Cruz and de la Guardia, but anyway, yes, there were probably many other complications that I cannot quite understand about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am admittedly now fatter than I used to be, even though only now am I starting to notice some of the things that those massively obese and enormously fat Jacobite Stewarts have been working on for years, and here all this time I was ignoring their silly stuff thinking they always did live in their own private La-la Land. And now suddenly we are starting to see some hints of them. And even so, well, La di dah!

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does make you wonder, why this overwrought display of stupid attitude problem from the gabby witch? I cannot quite put all of those pieces together in any coherent way.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, this is certainly not what I was planning to do with my life, but on the other hand I cannot see how I could accomplish anything else, much less do ministry, with those horrid people holding a gun to my head. I was hoping they weren't so serious about killing me, but given that they have already predetermined to kill me, it doesn't make much sense for me to "do" something about that, thus to "help" the worthless enemy. I just don't matter. So, la di dah.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember in my researches learning there was a Calkins in the Midwest who had invented and patented something that has to do with the components of guns. Even so, however that may be, we are not the gun family. Just having the name of Calkins is not enough to justify all of this harassment and shooting spree of Calkins in regards to gun revenues, when obviously we have no gun revenues. You are simply wrong wrong wrong. Enough said about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember hearing the name of Myrna Wilkins who was a single woman missionary living in maybe Venezuela, but I am way beyond caring about the details of her arrest. She was caught shaving her legs, which is a big no-no there in Venezuela. That is the sum total of everything that I heard about that. What else is there to say about that? So what?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember the existence of Josephine, who was in the little school for maybe a couple of years, and was doing her course work in a separate room with Susie, because Susie was doing 9th grade when Sammy and I were in 8th grade, and one day during a special event Josephine and her family performed their famous Filipino dance, in their native costumes, and that was something to see how they have to be quick on their feet to avoid getting their feet caught in those clicking broomsticks or bamboo canes or whatever that was. Interesting.

One day my sister and I told Susie that she was our best friend, and then she told us that Josephine is her best friend and after listing all of her friends in numerical order it turned out that we were numbers 15 and 16. That was a bit shocking to hear, given that Josephine seemed a nothing to us, what was that peasant doing in our missionary kid school, but whatever, next time around we won't be asking Susie any such silly questions. She will just be on her own.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am sorry if I called you a pig, but anyway I would probably do that again if you don't turn off your machine and stop harassing me continuously. I am NOT your personal doormat, in case I forgot to tell you.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is true that I did dump the Stewarts in the garbage, but of course that was after a lot of hassles they first threw at me, that machine of theirs broke a lot of things, and there was no reason for me to encourage any future social interaction with persons always so eager to be the first to kick me in the backside anyway.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember that when I was about 10 or 11 years old, at a sleepover at Susie's house, I was sleeping on a sofa and I had a dream, in which there was a box, and I opened the lid, and the lid flipped open as if by a spring, and the lid hit me on the leg somehow, even though the angle may not seem right, and then I woke up and saw that Susie's brother had come into the room and had thrown a shoe at me, which might not seem very nice, but that is how boys are, and he thought that was funny. So I never got to see what was in the box in my dream because of the shoe.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there is really no law requiring me to explain these unexplainable events of happenstance, these serendipitous moments of history, to these pathetic swamp creatures always clamoring for more more more. They only wish they could understand. I only wish I could understand it all. I believe in the existence of God, who is in control of history and who has all of these puzzle pieces stored away somewhere for a time of future judgment after the resurrection, when all things will be revealed, and it is important for me to say that I entrusted that to Jesus, because there is really no one else who can be trusted in this world. Certainly not you.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, the plot line "Switched at Birth" is somewhat popular in fiction, especially soap operas, and worked well for Mark Twain in his "Prince and the Pauper," in which a poor boy is mistaken for the wealthy prince and heir to the king. However, in real life that plot line is really not so convenient as is often imagined. It could actually be better to be a poor person living a happy life than miserably wretched rich person living in opulent splendor that is meaningless.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, well, at least if nobody is going to give me free stuff, likewise I can with impunity leave these  vicious nasty Italian hookers out in the dark, because anyway it was my sister who, after playing at the house of a friend down the street from my grandparents, took the toy she liked home with her and my mother had to make her take it back. So anyway, I hadn't thought of retelling that story, but, yes, if you don't take that back immediately, later on it just becomes another part of the swamp, and why should we care later about all of these written off accountings? You just don't matter.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is very irritating for these people to suddenly not remember what they said in the first place, and myself not knowing enough about that to stick in your eye.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how well I remember the wallet that was stolen from me while my back was turned. It was a simple matter of going to the lost and found to reclaim it but unfortunately they did not have anything matching the description. Yes, if only I could remember who took it, it would be an easy thing to make arrangements to at least try to reclaim it. But unfortunately there was no clue. The security people I talked to said that probably after anything of value was extracted, it would have been dumped in some outdoor garbage can.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does somewhat boggle the mind to see that vicious nasty haughty arrogant Alfaro Witch masquerading as a Pentecostal. Ha ha ha! That sneeringly sarcastic Alfaro, who only lives by Murphy's Law of Worst Case Scenarios, really ought to be deported to Southern Baptist hell, not lauded by the national honor society for being an illiterate filthy rich snooty snob masquerading as a street urchin. So what if she has made a vow to never watch television? There is nothing inherently virtuous in never watching television. You have to pick what you watch, and thus I choose to ignore sneering insults of the nasty Alfaro.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I know, some of these people seem so friendly and nice when you first meet them, and they are doing you all of these favors and saying nice things, and only later do we learn that they are really Democratic Party operatives whose actual aim is to divide and conquer our family, and weed the Republicans out of the family, for some unknown reason, we are on their target list, as if I should care about the existence of parties, which are only useful one day every couple of years, on voting day, and the rest of the time I do not want to have to interact on that level, thus to inadvertently activate some hidden widget unbeknownst to myself.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I really should not be talking to performance commentators who are probably on the side attempting to patch together some fictional screenplay that would cast me in the worst possible light, a worst case scenario that never really happened. How many times do I have to repeat the same nothingness before you finally learn how to consult a proper dictionary instead of harassing me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, in addition to the discussion of freckles, these Spanish also want to draw connections to the region of La Mancha, renowned as the setting for the novel by Miguel de Cervantes, about Don Quixote, although I really don't see the connection. So the Spanish word "mancha" may be translated as stain or blotch. Even so, I do not see how the condition of having freckles can be so flippantly compared to the existence of black-and-white polka-dot cattle so characteristic of some places. And I could also probably think up some other analogies if I wanted to give myself a bigger headache than I already have.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, someone is wanting to make a big point about freckles, because the Spanish word for freckle is "peca," when used as a noun, but if used as a verb, the word "peca" means "to sin." Ok, so does that say something about freckles or does that say something about the superstitious notions of these smugly self-satisfied Spanish primitives? How can these stupid primitives be saved if they can have no conviction of sin, thinking only of flattering themselves by comparisons to freckled persons. Yes, perhaps a level playing field, lacking in freckled comparisons, would remove that issue from the discussions, quite true. Even so, this suicidal procedure is very inconvenient for me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does make you wonder, were they supposed to tell me something? Tell me what? Which of these many points do you mean? How many stars in the sky? How many spots on a leopard? How many freckles? What is that to you?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does boggle the mind to ponder why you would imagine that I would want to put my own neck on the public chopping block thus to dialogue online with that quarrelsome idiot dentist Norman Young. Obviously I have no thought of reconnecting to Norman and his crew of idiots over at Calvary, although I did learn some interesting things there about their incredibly arrogant egotistical view of themselves being at the center of the universe. Obviously I cannot have that idiotic "Norman" and his silly nitwit wife Terra hammering on my teeth, so I will not be returning.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember hearing something about the existence of Terra who is married to that dentist Norman Young, who so vociferously declared online his utter contempt and hatred of me, and how he will be doing everything to oppose me in whatever I might do or say. Yes, what a lovely thought that, coming from a supposedly fellow Christian. Since when do I care about the idiotic rantings of the dreary horrid "Young" family, always mocking me and making me feel like garbage? What is wrong anyway with those dreary stupid "Young" people? I am not even distantly related to those boring people who were briefly acquaintances during the old days of Oakland Park. I am not going to be calling them back on that. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember during my first year at college, at Evangel, in the college bookstore, I saw on the shelves some books that were listed for classes on Spanish literature, some of which I had already studied in high school. And that was when I decided that I would not continue these Spanish literature studies, because I had already had enough of that. Why would I be asking for more of that stuff that I don't really need? Near the end of my year at Evangel, one morning in the cafeteria at breakfast I met Regina Stone who was there visiting her brother. That was Regina making some rhapsodic commentary about "literatura," which did not make much sense to me. I like literature but not that much. I do not feel any need for a doctoral degree in Spanish literature, that would force me to overdose on some things that don't particularly interest me anyway. I think that I have enough Spanish to get around the block when I need to do that. Everybody has to use the same dictionaries anyway.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is hard for me to understand why I should have to feel sorry for these pitifully wicked Italian magazine mafia witches. I dare not ask why there are here in this tiny country. From what mafia crimes are they hiding or being protected from? I think that it would be highly impolitic and rude for me to ask any question about their nefarious mutterings, so obviously I never ask them any questions. Quite true, needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, oh, was someone talking about Jimmy Hoffa in high school? I don't remember anything about that. All I can say, is that it will be a huge relief for me to return home to the United States, where I will be rid of those dreary Italian broomsticks of whom there is nothing nice to say so it is better to say nothing. Are all Italians such magazine witches? They never really emerge from out of that mechanical mafia persona, always spewing little tidbits of nothing much, so why should I open my mouth thus to provide them with free fodder for their already complicated mess of magazine garbage? No, I would prefer to avoid them whenever possible, because I do not understand where they get this imperious attitude when everybody is only overlooking their faults due to the problem of the balance of power in the Christian world centering on Rome, not because I would want them showing up at my house uninvited. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there is a vague memory in the back of my mind, about the old times of Oakland Park, about a friend of mine telling me that Pastor Max had told a man and his family that they would not be welcome there and to not come back. I cannot remember who those people were, only something about them being thrown out by Max. I cannot keep track of all these people.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, you do have a disingenuous way of trying to shave all of YOUR magazine garbage down my throat. I am only seeing this now, whereas you have been supporting that wicked magazine witch for many years. Your pretense and bluster does not fool us. The magazine witch, Irene or whoever she was, is your product, not mine.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, all of which proves that cheaters can win the game, but there was no reason for me to waste my talents on that lousy game. Does not compute. Danger Danger! Lost in Space again. Well, la di dah!

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I also remember that Linda, who works in a maternity ward, often repeats that same story about the little baby that was born without a brain, and the parents loved him so much. He lived much longer than expected because he did have a sucking reflex. Unfortunately, some other functions are not possible when some parts of the brain are not there, so eventually he died after a few months. Yes, it is a very sad story. Very sad.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember the old days in Oakland Park, when during some parties, everyone would be sitting around listening to the nurses, mainly Linda Crawley, although there were at times some other nurses, discussing various medical cases and medical matters relating to their jobs in the medical profession. Myself not having chosen the medical profession for myself, this information was at times somewhat tedious to have to listen to, given that this is supposed to be a party and not a medical lecture, and also impossible to repeat given that I have no medical training or certification of any type, that I would even want to be reminded of that later. Does not the Bible tells us to overlook one another's faults and bear one another's burdens, so it seems logical to think that spending a few minutes patiently listening to Linda carrying on and on about all of her medical problems might be the least thing that a polite person could do under such circumstances. Even so, now that we have learned that complaints were lodged by the Italians about that, I have to say that, it really would be interesting to learn more about why these persnickety Italian hookers think that it would be funny to try to reengineer things so as to push Linda's filthy garbage out of my mouth. Unfortunately for them, I am too smart to fall for that trap.

Firstly, I think that we should let these Italian hookers and/or cliquy five bores vomit themselves, so that we can more clearly discern between the forest and the trees.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is a bit awkward to suddenly notice these people gunning at me, who I was mostly trying to avoid, because look at all of their bad hair jokes, and if I laugh at that, I would be the one to get the back end of the stick, while there they are rocketing straight to the top, as if they themselves were not the source of that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, and if you insist on this figures of speech war, we will send you back to the subordinate ESOL class where you belong. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, who does not remember the analogous reference to the "mecca" of the Midwest, which seems to have puzzled some persons who are not familiar with these various figures of speech of the English language, and what language does not have figures of speech, and how can you say that English was your college major and yet seemingly not know how to correctly process these little bumps in the road of conversation, thus throwing yourself to a place that was never intended, obviously? Yes, sometimes these figures of speech are overdone to distraction and not particularly humorous, but just to cut people's heads off seems awfully severe. You don't deserve the power of capital punishment with that rotten attitude of yours. So we are not going to repeat that in today's much changed environment, obviously, much less speak to your pickled prune envoy ever again in this lifetime.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, and who are you to lecture me about languages, you repugnant one-celled amoeba? I will never be defined by some pathetically stupid Beastie Bimbo Void in Louisiana. Do you really think that I am going to sit here forever listening to you insult my grandmother and about how it was something that she said although you cannot quite remember what happened or why I should care about your direct pipeline to hell? If you don't find me down there when you get thre, you will understand that I did not ask to be born into this pile of paperwork. I don't even know what happened exactly, much less how to fix that or why I should care about your mental issues.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, George Washington could not tell a lie, in his admittance of chopping down the cherry tree, when pressed on this point, and went on to be elected the first president of these great United States. Even so, I cannot see what that has to do with the price of tea in China.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, sometimes I wonder if our former co-worker Judy Vik still lives around here. I later heard that she was working for the Pompano Pelican, but don't know if she is still there. She was a nice person, maybe not the most literary fanciful writer, but she wrote many very detailed articles that did the job that was required in a responsible way, especially she was into the schools. Of course, who can forget our managing editor Rick Haydan complimenting in that way Judy Vik's amazingly prodigious output. She never seemed to have any writer's blocks. Must be nice.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember hearing about the Salvadoran dictator who was said to be afraid of a fly, a Hindu influence there not further studied by me, and yet not embarrassed to massacre thousands of his people, although that was nearly a hundred years ago. How does that make any sense? I can only say that I do not know anything about it. I only know what I heard or read somewhere. What's to say?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I sometimes see that Sharon Turner had some very peculiar ideas about all of these things, not meaning to be too vengeful, but it is no longer possible to believe that Sharon was ever had a brain in her empty head, much less any sense of humor, but of couse when you take such a scorched earth approach to everything, and that is one way to burn all of your bridges behind you, probably no one will ever want to talk to Sharon ever again in this lifetime. The damage is done.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, and I suppose that you are angling to have me repeat something that I overheard Jill and Linda saying about Sharon and Ronald and David, as if I even care what Jill and Linda say about anything. I am trying to forget about Jill and Linda, those boring gossips. They certainly are full of interesting gossipy tidbits, but, yes, why should I have to repeat that when, anyway, you can just get it directly from Jill and Linda and spare me the trouble of having to vomit whatever they say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it must seem confusing for you, so wickedly endeavoring to throw me to the dogs, when actually your question is something about how, if it was your own daughter Sharon Wetstun whose (Honduran?) husband turned gay, so does that make her a dike by omission of a husband?

And are all Hondurans so pathetically stupid and meddlesome as that worthless idiot Ronald?

How were we to know that Sharon has such a huge retinue of these horribly stupid Honduran idiots making a mess behind the scenes? I never talked to those stupid people, especially not after that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that Tim Treejunk was overheard to say that he could never deny or refuse to take a double dog dare. I vaguely remember overhearing him saying that, but I myself never said any such ridiculous thing, which does make you wonder what is this script they are reading from that I have not yet seen, but it wasn't important.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does seem that we need to be discussing with the post office about having this Italian mail redirected to the fleabag Wilsons who are so skilled at building these reverse engineered wickedly dirty bombs, which is the only thing they seem to care about, thus to broadcast their irrelevant message of no concern to me. Personally, I don't need the Wilson dirty bomber tactics for anything, but I cannot speak for the Wilsons. Let the Wilsons vomit themselves without involving me. I really have no idea what their problem is.

These double dog dares get very useless when both sides are starting off on the wrong foot.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I think that I remember in high school that one of the few movies that were shown to us during school was the original "Chariots of the Gods," which I also remembered that my cousin David had read the book and had talked about that as the basis for his ideas of religion, which in David's case meant that he was favoring the agnostic or atheistic view of things. Although I never did read that book, my ideas of the movie and more recently TV shows and videos are somewhat different than my first impressions, although I mostly would prefer to not talk about that because basically there are many things that I cannot understand about that. I tend to think that someday maybe God will explain everything more fully when we get there eventually, but in the meantime there is only so much of that stuff that I can sort of absorb before it all becomes just too much noise without a context.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is a bit awkward having some horribly drunken vintage Italians on the Bay pretending to be related to us, and now having learned a bit more about their "Magazine" language, one can easily see how the slightest word and/or phrase could probably set them off into some bizarre tizzy, and the next thing one knows, one is thrown to the wolves or dogs, and there is no help, not even having any idea of what was the problem or else why I should care about that. I am leaving and this won't be my problem later. I will just be gone.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is quite annoying the way these Baptist Bells and chocolate-coated peanut butter cups are wanting to set themselves up as the aristocracy who will rule over those pathetically poor and low-level Pentecostal peasants in the new scheme of things to come. I don't particularly like this picture very much, getting more and more annoyed with their airs of being born with a silver spoon in their mouths, but what to do or say about it is another thing too politically explosive for me to handle. I tried to be nice but they are taking that too far. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, don't we all think that Bruce Blockhead is such a nuisance, but that is not really a reason to say something more about him. He only wishes that the entire universe revolved around himself.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is a bit annoying to go there and find that the very persons, always so tediously contentious and angling for a useless and futile confrontation, that we are studiously and deftly avoiding and/or evading so as to not clash and thus give opportunity for the enemies of my country and/or religion to gloat and puff themselves up far beyond measure, you have elevated to the most incredible heights of arrogance and haughty disdain. I just have nothing to add to that. There is nothing for me to "do" about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I have become vaguely aware that a pack of annoying Methodist stiffs, deader than door knobs, are wanting to open a can of worms in regards to anyone by the name of Calkins, who they imagine to be aware of the existence of Harvey and Helen and/or Elmo or Mary, even though actually we were not aware of their existence, much less thinking about them, and never claimed to be their direct descendants. The 1640 voyage of Hugh explains the name, and whatever they did with that does affect all of us in some way, although indirectly. Even so, I do not see why I should be troubled by a pack of scavengers from the Methodist scrap heap, or else why they should be allowed to trouble me. There is actually nothing particularly special about a boring pack of Methodist stiffs from Michigan.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I seem to remember the Catholics admitting that they have their own doctrinal problems in various religious practices that are popular with the masses, even if you get very nitpicky about these certain points you might find more flaws there than you might at first imagine, lest they get so uppity in their anti-Protestant maneuverings, needless to say. And next I suppose that you will be expecting me to demand indulgences for sale, even though we already know how that did not work out very well either, historically.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, just because you are coincidentally named David, that does not constitute some reason for me to care about your pathetic horrible life. I am just saying, so what?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, maybe someone might have said something about Lori being a Georgia peach, because her family is from Atlanta, Georgia, and also Georgie is famous for its peaches, so what else could that mean? I just have no idea what else some other people might have done with that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how well we have learned that throughout the ages that various Christians have been killed and died a martyr's death because their faith somehow did not fall within the perimeters dignified by the Spanish Inquisition as not worth burning at the stake. Even so, now is not the time to be discussing these doctrinal matters that are way over my head. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I always did have more than my share of curiosity, needless to say. Thus, I could not help but be curious about the precise wording of the scintillating and/or sizzling letter from Bruce Brock's girlfriend, which was so upsetting to my mother when she opened it by mistake, confused as she was by the way in which it had been addressed to the care of us, because he was staying at our house that summer, although it is probably better that I never really got to read that. My mother only told me something about what it said and how, after she realized her mistake, she handed it to him without any comment, obviously already opened, so obviously he was knew she had seen that, although h was probably not sure how much we know about that or who we might tell laterr. Well, sorry about that, but whatever. Get over yourself, boring bimbos of Arizona.

And just think if I had actually had read the letter, and could actually say something real about that, how much more miserable your life could be. Just think about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that there was a Bernhardt in our high school, although no acquaintance of mine, that I would never have had occasion or even have thought of asking such an impertinent question about the famous dancer of that name. She might have been of a lower class level than myself, a  9th, 10th or 11th grader when I myself was in the 12th. Even so, I cannot imagine what that has to do with the fact of myself having studied a book titled "Ariel" by the famous Uruguayan author, which was an extremely tedious philosophical treatise on a not always very useful question of what is more important, utilitarianism vs. aesthetics. Sort of depends, I suppose.

Speaking of Uruguay, I vaguely remember the Stone family but only from the third grade. If I ever see them again or not, well, at this point, it really does not matter. It just wouldn't matter. It always was so easy for them to pass themselves off as natives, but I cannot do that. I always will look like a foreigner there, so their method of masquerading as a native is useless to me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, given the level of Party hostility emanating from you, it can be safely assumed that you have probably heard something that I said about my parents voting for Nixon, after Joan made some disparaging remark about Nixon, thus to effectively end that conversation, indicating that your sole source of information is probably Joan, or whoever else overheard that very small exchange, or else whatever Joan told Kathy or whoever else, which means that you don't know much anyway. It is hard for me to understand why you would think that I would want to handle Joan's mail. They are all Democratic Party Props so you should be sending Joan's mail to them, not me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I have a hard time understanding why I should be intimidated by some Democratic Party props who only wish they could run me off the road, only because they heard on the grapevine something about my parents having voted for Nixon. Thus, I wash my hands of these obviously biased Party political strategists thus to let the chips or votes fall where they may, because anyway God is in control, not you or me.

So what if some clueless Party Prop won't talk to me? I won't talk to you either. Get off my back. You just don't matter.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I distinctly remember you saying that you were planning to brick me into a corner, thus to have zero contact with anything of a public nature. That is how Masons are, always so mean to me. And thus surrounded by all of these solid brick walls, why should I suicidally attempt to communicate with all of these vicious nasty people from Michigan? Basically, I don't really need them for anything. Even a princess coming back from the dead could not hope to change the facts such as they are. We are more and more horrified at the sight of vicious Terry Lick-a-Brick

Which Reminds Me

Yes, for a long time I could not understand all that gibberish from Linda about the significance of her surname being: Not Man, as if that meant something. Perhaps it had something to do with Rudyard Kipling's poem "If." How can she be iffy when she is Not Man? Even so, I am once again less than impressed with these idiotic rantings. Blah blah blah. Whatever.

And how odd that Linda has been comparing notes with Lori Kellerman. Interesting how all these people from Michigan who live around here all know each other from somewhere else and have something else going on in the background that they never really explained, something about how they think the entire universe revolves around only them.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember being accosted by the Tinker monster, and also I remember how she talked about the eradication of Yellow Fever with a certain twist in her voice, almost as if the term Yellow Fever had some other meaning for her, as if she were a pile of Chinese junk floating in the Yellow Sea, and not really a Mexican military counterinsurgent spy, as if we were never going to notice that.

Needless to say, we prefer to ignore these useless junk piles. What is a pile of junk without a context? Nothing but a pile of worthless junk.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, and who are you to lecture me about choices, you repugnant slop of Lori Kellerman? You ain't nothing but a hound dog whining all the time. You ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine. Perhaps I should have more forcefully dumped Lori Kellerman in the garbage bucket where she belongs. Nobody seems to have gotten the message to avoid her always. Her wickedness is insidious. I don't like having her neighbors across the hall pounding on my door day and night. I don't know very much about them. I only met them once or twice. Thanks for the pizza.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, most horribly nightmarish day of my life during high school, when I was accosted by the vicious nasty Tinker monster. Oh, horror of horrors, but soon I will return to the U.S. and thus be rid of all this Tinker trash. They are here to research rare tropical diseases which are already mostly eradicated now, so we will not have much need of their health care services in the future, although nothing personal about that. It was only a job. Much less do I need to discuss anything with their chatterbox  cousin or something Kennedy.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, they do have a backhanded way of telling me about what they are doing now, by clamoring about stuff that I did not even know about them, possibly because our lunch schedules did not coincide, so that was interesting, I did not know that, and even so, now that I do know that, so what? It just doesn't matter. Let someone else deliver that mail. It's too hard for me to talk to them.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember seeing the face of Judy during high school, but I never talked to her nor was there any opportunity to do so, for that matter. During high school, Judy's entire social life consisted of Tom Tom Tom and nothing but Tom. Yes, how lucky to have a boyfriend throughout high school, even if only Tom, almost the only white boys in our class, thus to prove you are no dike, there being no existing evidence of any other only thought process in vicious nasty broomstick Judy's empty head. For some others of us, life is not that simple. We have to wait until we return to the United States where perhaps in a Christian college we can find a more ample supply of suitable Christian escorts for whatever class events, or maybe not, but anyway certainly in high school there was nothing worth mentioning.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, wouldn't that be nice if I had the money to buy them all off? But unfortunately there is no money, and thus we languish in this twilight of nothingness until we all die, eventually.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, this is a bit awkward, the very distantly related cousins of the third or fourth degree trying to attach me to their bizarre political configuration, of which I know absolutely nothing. I have no way to fire them, and yet I consider myself completely independent of and free from whatever their problem is.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, in a way it was nice that while I was being confronted at Evangel College by a group of voters who failed to vote for me, although nobody asked them to do that, the thought of running for office not having ever crossed my mind, that Jan Chance was not there at the time, nor do I ever remember her ever discussing that with me afterwards, that I would have any idea what she might know about that, or at least what she thinks she knows, or who she was talking to at the time. But then again, on the other hand, the omission of any comment from Jan is not a point that inspires any great confidence in me, that I should have any reason to offer some remark upon this point or any commendation of Jan's entire lack of relevance on any point concerning myself.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember in high school, Linda Sease once said hello to me in the hallway and complimented my new blouse, so that was nice. That being the only conversation I ever had with her, all of these references make me a little bit nervous. I know nothing at all about her.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I too would be happy to see the rationale of the Brown D.A. fully explained and exposed in all of of its many points, so that we can see the roots of that malice and where that came from. I have not yet found much reflection or verbiage on the point of dumping Larry and Jerry in the same garbage bucket, but who knows maybe someday something will turn up. I am not sure when but who knows?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is sad that in this current atmosphere so utterly devoid of intelligent leadership, I must be the captain of my own ship, the master of my own fate. I must be alone with my thoughts and not distracted by persons so utterly clueless in regards to these basic medical facts. There seems to be nobody worthy of being trusted in this worldly wilderness of trashy worthless challenged teenager slop.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is sad that many of these housemaids have not progressed very far beyond the fourth grade. When they see my mother every day taking a little pill, and expressing all of these exaggerated concerns, we have to explain very basic things to them, such as, what is a thyroid? what is the function of the thyroid gland? what is a doctor prescription? and various other details of my mother's medical history, etc. etc. We are not surprised to hear such confusion from the maid who has only recently learned about how to flip the switch to turn the electric lights on and off (which is actually someone else's maid story, the point being that these people are sometimes quite naive when they first arrive from the country). Although we don't mind having to explain basic things to them, because we are not paying them such high salaries and we are helping them to get started learning how to live in the city where there is electricity and running water, we are less concerned about the confusion of some persons who should know better. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember some confusion about my mother's pills. My mother has a thyroid condition so she takes a little pill everyday to regulate her metabolism. Someone was confused about the pills, perhaps that was the maid. She expressed her concern about all these pills but it was a doctor's prescription so there was nothing to do about that. Sometimes these maids are a little bit confused about things.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, hey, how well I remember that those were your Polack jokes that you were telling us and that you were requiring that we laugh at in contemplation of how many Polacks does it take to change a light bulb, because, after all, we might not have ever thought of that if you had not brought up the subject of your Polish background in such a humorous way. Similarly, those were your Hillary jokes. I cannot even remember one to retell, and yet I seem to think that you probably have all of that filed away somewhere next to the Polack jokes.

But, yes, the Molina jokes came other sources probably. I cannot remember those either now although at the time the social norms of the place seemed to require a chuckle even if their humor is so unbelievably crude sometimes.

But I never was very good at retelling jokes which is why I mostly cannot remember that stuff. I just forget jokes right away but my sister might remember more about that stuff than I do. Maybe she can remember the punch line to that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, nobody was twisting your arm when you decided to name your fledgling organization "Teen Challenge," and everybody understood that you probably felt that you needed to do something to motivate your pathetically wicked street thug audience to clean up their lives and turn to God. We read the books. We saw the movie. But we are not particularly happy about this law requiring us to look up to these wicked New York street thugs who have such scintillating and fascinating testimonies in that way. Do you really think that we want to hear the details of your elaborate drug dealings by boat or plane in the Everglades, during your speech at the assembly in Miami? You were supposed to be telling us about God and how he has changed your life and how you don't think that way anymore, and about what faith in God can do, and yet there you are outlining everything about what NOT to do. Did you get that theory from the Bible or from the secretions of Agartha? Or perhaps you get all your mojo from the nasty Nordic broomsticks of North Central. You should have gone to North Central yourself, and spare us the hassle of having to put you there. Do you really think that you should be riding so high when your retinue of reformed New York street thugs are struggling with so many lifelong disabilities? You have given new meaning to the term "challenged."

But fortunately for me, I have zero connection to that Pennsylvania-New York machine. I won't need that for anything so don't be trying to sink my ship with their nonsense.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does seem odd how the rock-crushing enterprise of Klein & Cranford has somehow allied itself with the farmer at Borden's dairy and various others in my mother's portfolio, to create a hugely populated pack of troglodytes very skilled at translating from the ancient Phoenician, even though nowadays nobody speaks those dead languages. For what do we need a pack of troglodyte translation hacker technology? Nowadays everyone can just learn English which very much smooths the pace of international commerce. Where there is no market demand, there will be no profits, thus I am not aware of any great need for further troglodyte excavations, always building roads to nowhere, except perhaps in the vein of historical research carried on in the rarefied circles of university scholarship, which requires higher education to an extreme and takes forever. Maybe the future generations will think of better ways to integrate that. But in the meantime, we might prefer to get on with our lives. We don't have time for that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, the way I see it, Uncle Winfred is free to dispose of his farm land in whatever way he wants, and it looks like he has bequeathed it to: Klein & Cranford, Ink., a company whose members are probably related to his two daughters although how would I know that, those people are entirely unknown to me, and probably that will not change any time soon, probably never. I do not need their farm land headaches, which are the responsibilities that accompany such the ownership of such a pile of rocks. Sorry but harassing me will not change anything. They do so much enjoy harassing me and making my life miserable but there is no other reward for that other than watching my head explode.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, everybody knows thanks to the paper trail that my grandmother was a bit resentful that Uncle Winfred kept the Texas farm for himself, but on the other hand it made sense that because he was the male son who stayed there and worked the farm while everybody else left, that their mother had left it to him. So that was how that happened and there would be no reason to reopen that ancient can of worms later. I for myself would not particularly want that pile of rocks and the headaches related to it, such as having to fire all of their employees who are so meddlesome. How would I do that? I don't have any way to fix this problem.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does somewhat boggle the mind, why these people are always screaming at me about nothing much.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember having done my genealogical research a few years ago and discovering that Uncle Winfred's other daughter was married to Mr. Cranford. I only remember that they lived somewhere else other than Texas, which explains why they were not there the one time that we visited them Uncle Winfred's family in Texas. Beyond that I know nothing at all about them so there is nothing further to say about that. Whatever. I have no thought of these people sitting on a pile of rocks in Wise County, Texas. The value of a pile of rocks is not known to me, and even if I knew the value of that, it would not really matter that much. I don't particularly want their pile of garbage. If you were really related to me, you would not be hurling things through the ozone layer. You would know how to read and write my name and address and telephone number.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there is always that danger of every little Tom, Dick and Harry wanting to impose his opinion, of whatever quality, upon persons who are not on his payroll and without family or other obligations, whether of opportunity or necessity, requiring that, even if only out of mere courtesy, thus occupying time that could have been otherwise better spent, because we may have other things going on in our heads at the moment, so that it may or may not be convenient to consider irrelevant points of no interest to us. Thus, that is dependent upon the circumstances of the time.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember hearing about the existence of some distant cousins who are the descendants of my mother's Uncle Winfred, of whom I know almost nothing, other than basically they exist, and I would like to keep it that way. What is this nonsense about the need to hire lawyers for a fight over the tiny pittance that is paid for natural gas rights? It is not worth that much money to me that I would need to do something about whatever. I am supposed to be earning my own salary to pay for my own life without them throwing things around, but your conspiring to make my life utterly miserable and crashing my functionality has not been helpful. Thank you NOT!

Which Reminds Me

Yes, we also, likewise, are not fond of Your Greed. And whatever happened to A-Greed? Either way, this Greed picture does not seem to be working very well.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that while I was studying journalism in Virginia, that was way back in the early days of computers, and we would be assigned a diskette, or have to get a diskette, on which to store our files, because those computers had almost no memory of their own, and our editor said to give our disk whatever name we wanted to give to it, so on mine I wrote "Candi's Stuff," I don't know why exactly, probably because that was the place where I would be putting all of my files containing whatever stuff I might write, and my editor seemed to find the name perhaps slightly amusing, although I have since learned that the word "stuff" also has other connotations that I had not thought of at the time, so probably I would not use "Stuff" that way again, but at the time it seemed to be meaningful enough. I am not claiming any of those other connotations but apparently someone upstairs did not get the memo.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do think that it could be amusing, on the one hand, for me to assert the truth  of the fact that 2+2=4 and then to sit back and laugh while watching those little yang-yang brats bending over backwards in the attempt to prove that 2+2=5. On the other hand, why should I be held responsible for provoking them to wrongdoing? Better to evacuate. Can you hear the sound of the silent vacuum? Figure it out for yourself. No, I never said anything. You are just imaging things. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, what was the name of that photographer? I don't mean Mark, I mean that other photographer guy who, yes, I would not want to have to repeat some of the things that he said right there in the office for everyone to hear, and the rumors associated with that. Yes, better to not be there so as not to hear more about that than unavoidably necessary.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I was probably not meaning to be vindictive or vengeful, but to tell the truth, it would be basically impossible for Max to ever find any comforting words of encouragement from me, not to be mean, but given the existing chill in the atmosphere, you really shouldn't be wasting your time harassing me on this point. You won't get anything out of me in regards to that. I really can't say anything about that one way or another, not knowing exactly how all of this wrong information eventually leaked all over the place. From my point of view, it looked like Max was playing a dirty trick on me, but then again maybe there were other persons skewing the picture. I really don't know very much about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I suppose that you will say that I did not deserve to be participating in the Christmas pageant, one of four white girls wearing an angel's costumes with halo and wings, when I am really not blonde. Only two of the four angels were blondes. And I had not even asked for that. It was probably one of the parental arrangements. I don't remember much about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, and if I should happen to name by black cat Spooky or Midnight, how is that a problem for you? Why would you take that so personally? Are you a cat? Are you spooky? Are you a ghost that only comes out after midnight? Huh?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I see that the busybodies of scripting have been working overtime to set up some useless puns which I am assiduously attempting to avoid mentioning, because I do remember hearing someone talking about the puzzle of whether white or black is skin deep or whether it goes all the way to the bone, but that was not a point that I had thought of elaborating upon.

So their question is whether if my skin is white, does that automatically make me good or angelic, and if their skin is dark, does that automatically make them bad? And thus they will bend over backwards to prove the opposite of that, which is not helpful. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is true that I wrote a short story when I was ten years old, and unfortunately I shared it with my parents and also there was a missionary visiting at the time, Mr. Garlic, who took all of this information home with him to Ecuador, where my story was plugged into their Garlicky machine, so now I can never go home, because unlike Heidi of the children's novel, whose homesickness led to her return to her Alpine home, in America we are stuck here in America because there is no going home to Europe, and don't I remember that in 10th grade analysis of rock music lyrics, someone presented the song by Crosby Stills and Nash, "Wooden Ships," in which it talks about the original pioneers having burned their ships so they have to stay here and build up the New World because there is no going home. Yes, I do remember that song presentation, sort of. There is no going home, only a new season of life hopefully after this is one is completed. Needless to say.

And even so, life in America is not so bad. Yes, there is probably somewhere a long list of creepy weird things that Europeans eat, which are not legal to be offered for sale here in the United States, thanks to the health regulations of our wise and sagacious FDA people. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I don't quite remember when I criticized them, except for when it was a class assignment. Nowadays, I am way beyond caring about that. Life is short and I don't have time to research my memory banks trying to remember who said what more specifically, especially as I did not keep any paper trail for myself. Why is it that they continually criticize me and that is never a problem for them, but if I dare to say anything, maybe even not what they thought, it becomes a national disaster. Ridiculous. You really ought to be more respectful of my silence, because otherwise, if you really insist on hearing words to fulfill your lowest Marphy's Law expectations, maybe I could think up some scripting to satisfy your unrelenting demands, but you probably would not like to hear that from me, and it would be more effective coming from someone that you must respect, which is obviously not me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, the name of Samuel Sobokin is the signature that appears on my great-grandfather's passport of 1917, issued at Shanghai. Beyond that, if there was every any conversation between them, I have not seen that. This matter of signing passport applications is a routine duty for persons employed as U.S. consuls, one could easily imagine. But we have already discussed this point more than once ad nauseum. I could discuss it again if necessary, but if only to pad your frivolous trashy novel, I think probably not.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, Rose Alfaro only wishes that she had been in charge of the passport office, specifically in Shanghai in 1916, when something happened there. Perhaps some passports were confiscated, that is the only thing that can be sort of guessed, because new passports were issued in 1917. But why and the details of that are not clear. Given that Rose Alfaro was not in charge of the passport office, then the other clue would be her close connection to Mr. Sobokin who was signing the reissued passports, who seems to be the center of her very tiny universe, and I am only guessing there also. Anyway, that is not very much upon which to base the plot line of your stalled fictional novel. So you just have nothing. And I don't even know how I figured that out by osmosis.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, well, and if you had really valued my commentary on the topic, you should have thought of that before blocking all of the relevant facts and information, so that actually I have no idea what you are talking about.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, well anyway, if we are going to be so extremely picky about the law, I will have no need of some vicious nasty dog Sue Declined to explain to me anything about that, especially since she has no legal place for that. Needless to say. It is not like I ever had a choice of rejecting Beverly's worthless idiot husband from whom she is now divorced, so likewise the same to you.

And even if I had thought of hiring a lawyer, I wouldn't be calling you.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I cannot remember whether I ever discussed with anyone the fact that my mother has a knack for sometimes making up words that don't really exist, and the words sort of sound like real words, and give the impression enough that we sort of understand what she means by that, and someone will say, "You mean —," and she will say yes, and then everybody will laugh about that. Even so, I really don't see what that has to do with anything. None of that excuses your idiotic rantings. We never had any pretensions of compiling a dictionary.

You are bending over backwards to shoehorn and shove me into some role in the irrelevant and boring fictional drama that you had pre-written for somebody else. And sometimes I will answer a question and other times I will just avoid you because I cannot quite get a handle on how to dump that vicious nasty horrible monster Rose Alfaro back in the garbage bucket where she belongs.

Why would I want to live on a planet ruled by horrible Rose Alfaro, always sneering disdainfully and with utter contempt of me? Obviously not. Don't we all have better things to do than consult with vicious nasty Rose Alfaro? That is a worthless device as far as I am concerned.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I suppose that if there were some Mueller somehow attached to our family tree, they would be entitled to their two or three cents, just like everybody else. But there is too much noise of rocks being crushed. This is not the time for discussing what our future tyrant and dictator will do to us later.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, speaking of my future income, I can only hope that you were not expecting me to go live on the sidewalks of Los Angeles in a cardboard box. The maintenance of even a minimal lifestyle here in the United States requires at least some amount of funding, even if it is mostly involves a matter of packing up and preparing to move on to the next phase. For whatever limited time remains to me on the earth, I will still need to pay for my own housing, food and clothing for an undetermined number of years plus tithes, God willing. Any surplus beyond tithing of course could be designated for various charitable causes after paying off any debts. No one was saying that we would not considerable reasonable requests for donations in the future, if the creek don't rise and so forth.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I have often heard about the Mueller investigation, but am quite certain that has absolutely nothing to do with me. I am not aware of any Muellers in my own family tree, so I do not see how that has anything to do with me. Can't speak for the Andersons.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I hope that you were not expecting me to exert myself on behalf of or to defend some unidentifiable crooks. Better to relax and sit back and let the authorities do their job, hopefully. Hopefully the crooks are not so high up the ladder that nobody can catch them.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, one of the few things that I have learned about my great-grandmother's father, Archibald, is that he died in 1895, and also that he was from Canada. Her mother died when she was very young and then her father was mostly gone and she was mostly raised by her mother's relatives, although he did appear at least once when she was about 10 years old when he gave her a piano and some other presents. I really do not know much more about that. Maybe some other relatives know more about that than I do, because I really know almost nothing.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is true that my math scores on the SAT were somewhat lackluster, but on the other hand my scores on the English half were somewhere above 90 percent, and how did you score in reading comprehension? But of course you will say that I had an advantage, because English is my native language while English is only your second language. So you would prefer to drag down and disdain by overall scores in order to avoid questions about your lack of reading comprehension. I am only saying probably.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does seem a bit odd now, looking back, to think that in our one high school classroom there was a Castro and a Calabria, which is to say a Calabrese. And someone is perhaps now asking, in the newly constituted Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, which one of their houses will be the crowned rules of Sicily? And I am shocked to even hear this question now because at the time of high school that was the farthest thing from my mind.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that is somewhat lame, their attempt to sell us distant Strickland connections in America to the Italians of Sicily, on a lame pretext that, for one thing, the Stricklands were among the Normans who first came to England with William the Conqueror, and at the same time there were some Normans who, upon returning from the Crusades, settled in Italy and eventually became the kings of Sicily and Naples, but they were deposed or conquered by the Anjous and others, so that probably there are still could be theoretically some Italians still who have some distant genealogical link to the Normans, but there is nothing very royal or special about that. What? 1 or 2 percent Norman? No, there is no fit for us in Sicily or Malta, either one. Leave me out of that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there has been some speculation about the ethnic origins of my great-grandmother. The question was whether her father was Ukrainian or Irish, and census documents might support either theory for all I know, and some persons were circulating false rumors about her being Jewish, but more recently comes the surprising news that my Dad is actually 9 percent Chechnyan. Although that is not very much, and myself inherited probably less than that because I could never look the part, where does that come from? Apart from the simple fact that Chechnya is somewhere near Ukraine, you could try to drive from Chechnya to Ukraine in a day, I don't really see how that happened. Perhaps some of our distant cousins will be disappointed to learn that the theories of us being part Jewish are actually not true. But then again the Ten Lost Tribes are always out there circulating everywhere. Who knows what other surprising and interesting puzzles may yet be revealed by all this extreme analysis?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I imagine that Joni of Iowa is still expecting me to come running to barge into her private session, when actually I am through with caring about the nasty people of Iowa. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I agree that on second thought, it would be much better for me to leave the counseling of Dolly Bang-Bang to be carried out privately by those persons who are more qualified and prepared for that. Obviously I wasn't expecting anything of that nature. Shocking. There was something odd about the staging of that, something reminiscent of those fat ugly road hogs Iowa, as if I should care about listening to the worthless private sessions of Jonie. I cannot even open my mouth there without feeling that I am talking to the enemy, so why bother trying? Besides which, I would only be speculating if I were to say something. The proper authorities are those who really ought to explain to me how am I supposed to solve this problem without killing myself. I should be able to clear my own tracks on this planet without creating so many huge problems.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it probably does make you wonder why this clueless tobacco dog Heather thinks she has some reason to think herself "up" in this picture. As far as I am concerned, there ain't nothing going on in Heather's empty head. You would probably get a lot more information about Heather if you would target Joan or Kathy, but of course they never tell me anything. I was blocked out of that picture, needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember some discussion online about how they are wanting to make some points about how their surname is Bueno, also a word in Spanish that means Good, so does that mean that they automatically have the "Good Mind" which deserves to be heard, because their surname is good or bueno? If so, then why does Jesus' name have some special meaning, which while there are those who take that point to an extreme, even so, yes, for believers probably that has something to do with Jesus being God, whereas the Bueno brats are Not God. Probably.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does boggle the mind that anyone would imagine that I would ever want to talk about that. Was I supposed to thank the Bueno brats for trying to shove their vomitous Chilean filth down my throat? I think that will never happen. I just have no idea what their problem is.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I have often seen on maps or elsewhere pictures of the boot-shaped country of Italy, which has some little islands off shore, such as Sardinia and Sicily. Malta has so far maintained its separate identity with the help of the British who made it one of their colonies. Sicily is now part of Italy.

That being said, I am not aware of myself ever asking for the help of Sicily or Italy for any reason. I am barely aware of the existence of these places. Thus, all of their clamoring for repayment of debt is purely a lie. There was no truth to what their claims that I "owe" them something. Only in their sick minds.

Which Reminds me

Yes, my parents recently did their DNA tests, and for my mother there was no surprise, all english and scottish. Clearly, obviously, my mother, and by extension, my grandmother, who was a Strickland, are not much related to that other branch of the Stricklands of the U.K. who are partly  Maltese, the Baron, Gerald Strickland having married a Maltese woman and they had several daughters but no son. I was not aware of the existence of these people, and their Maltese connections. Whatever. Even so, neither do I feel any affinity for or connection to Sicily. You may be hinting at a revival of the ancient kingdom of the Two Sicilies, for all i know about that. And that would mean unwanted participation in the ongoing saga of Castro vs Calabria,which I would much prefer to avoid. Part of the job of being an independent nation would be for them to make their own decisions about how to handle Sicily without any interference and/or input from me. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, all of these D.A.gon(e) jokes are so bad, I hesitate to dignify that fishy alphabet soup with any actual comment. The simple matter of fact is that the District Attorney of San Francisco at the time, in 1950, was none other than Pat Brown, who went on from there to become the Attorney General of California, and later Governor of California, so I don't see that he was fired. Even so, he eventually died, in 1996. No one ever said that the prosecutor was fired.

Even so, the facts of the case as they are presented in the only documents available at the moment seem somewhat Spartan and lacking in context. If you didn't want to buy it, why did you give the money in the first place, or else you changed your mind and demanded a refund, or else how did the assistant Mr. Longwell assistant get his hands on the money without the permission of Mr. Schmidt, all of which begs the question, why is this petty complaint pending in the criminal courts? If you died while on probation, can there ever be a satisfactory answer to the complaints of either party? We cannot bring the parties back from the grave to continue their conversation. We must rely on what few written documents that are available and may have survived the backyard fires over the years, if any may be found.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, and I can see that you have gone so far as to put your lips on that slimy contaminated repulsive thing, the Blarney stone, and so often that they may need to use a blowtorch to get that thing off of you.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember hearing that Lynda has some special clue about money, but she did not share the details of that with me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I have a hard time understand why all of this irrelevant pantomime and signaling about Martha. I really could not care less what Martha does with her vast fortune. I just have no idea what you all are talking about in that regards. Her locker was next to mine in high school, but beyond that there is nothing else to say. I wasn't paying that much attention.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, and who does not admire the amazing Olympic accomplishments of medal-winning swimmer Tracy Caulkins. But, even so, there is no "u" in my name.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I imagine that if you really did want to purchase the castle, anciently the headquarters of the Strickland family, but who knows what distant relatives live there now, you might be able to negotiate with the British government and their National Trust to purchase it, because only they would know anything about that, and I imagine that perhaps a billion dollars would go a long way toward accomplishing such a purpose. Even so, I imagine that the extinct titles which have other political and personal meanings are sometimes impossible to resurrect only for vanity's sake. Probably you would need to earn your own titles in the usual way.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, truth be told, beyond a few superficial points, I am really not Irish. I have more reasons to identify my roots as English or Scottish than Irish, for all that matters. Did not Hugh Calkins immigrate to America from Monmouthshire in Wales? Yes, what need do I have of these Irish blusterers?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, and I can sort of see that the scripting department is chomping at the bit, waiting for me to make some rude comment about this brood of odd-looking mutants that you have produced. And I am waiting for you to shut up already because actually, anyway, whatever, I really don't care what you do. I don't get anything from you. To me you might as well be the clerk at the lawyer's office, make sure you type my name and address correctly when you mail my royalties check, for all I care about that,

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is a bit disconcerting to hear that these semi-savages are intending to skin or scalp any persons whose skin color they do not like. Terrifying. Where is the justice?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I did not ask for this big headache, or why it was thrown upon me, so it is hard for me to understand why anyone else would want it either.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, is that the Trap-Fords I am hearing in the background mooing and bleating as if they were animals and not really persons of any intelligent thought worthy of verbal expression? I have no reason to be dialoguing with irrelevant persons of no interest to me, although there is always the thought of Walter Strickland, possibly a common ancestor, but you have to go all the way back to Tudor England to figure that out, and what else is there to say about that? If it were a matter of money, we have nothing to bestow upon them. Sorry about that. And we are trusting them to take good care of the old castle without us having to worry about that, or else the National Trust of England will help them with that, and also their house in Malta is not really my problem. So what else is there to say? I have no reason to go there.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember having seen that move, "Hello, Dolly!" Even so, I do not care to apply for the occupation of matchmaker which I leave to other persons and/or busybodies. I really don't care that much about who marries who and all of that. You would have better luck in New York or California if you are looking to hire the famous singer/actress Barbra Streisand to orchestrate your life. But as for me, I do not think that I would need Hollywood for anything.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I had completely forgotten about the existence of Heather from South Africa, who married one of the tobacco chewers and returned to her home country, where race relations were unimaginably horrible. Even so, I do not recall myself whether ever discussing that topic with her. Not meaning to sound callous and unconcerned, but fortunately for me, South Africa is not a place that I would ever have to go. I do not recall them ever offering me a job, that I would have some reason to go there.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember Lynda talking about how she went to some choir festival and sang with some black choirs. She is also a pianist. Lynda said that she really admires how they sing very loudly, the main concept seeming to be loud as possible, which actually, to be honest, does not necessarily pique my interest. I mean, what self-respecting white person wants to sing in a church choir where all of the music is written strictly for black people? I already know that I cannot quite match their sound, so why bother trying? Let the church choir be its black self, and let us white people find other things to do than serve as cut bait for this black choir game.

Yes, I am not averse to the creating of a separate music department for the black choir, and then we would also need a separate music department for the Latino people and their reedy-sounding voices, and also a separate department for the Italian opera people, because if you are not well steeped in the opera lore it makes no sense, and what self-respecting white person wants to be mistaken for some caterwauling Italian diva. I would leave that role as the sole dominion of Kim Coffero and also Jennie. And then we would also need a separate music department for those Czech folk dancers who never bothered to pay tuition so we cannot find any chairs for them. But of course all of this splitting off will leave a few extraneous persons without any reason to be there. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that it was actually David who was the odd-looking blond gringo singing and sticking out conspicuously with a group of Salvadoran singers. But whatever. I cannot quite see who is having a snit about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I heard Carmen chattering online about her plans to harass and abuse me using her ex-boyfriend Ulysses, except that he died, and also I never had any conversation with either of them, so they really have nothing on me with which to actually do that. I see that you are obviously disappointed to learn that actually none of your accusations are true, that your case has fallen flat and that you have in the process proven yourself to be definitively a liar in this picture. Can't you find someone else to harass? Why always me?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, what was I thinking? I should not have stayed at SCC beyond a year or two, or else changed my major and done something more realistic and productive for me, but for some reason I felt that I was stuck on a track that I sort of instinctively knew would fail me in the end. There was something hollow about that.

Even so, I think that it is a matter of self-preservation to reject certain persons from being my close friends, which they are not. There is no reason to continue this conversation that never got started.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it somewhat boggles the mind to contemplate that anyone would lend such serious credence to the idiotic rantings of that pathetically stupid mentally retard Debbie Tracy. She plays piano very well but in other areas there is not much brain activity going on in her empty head. She is always angry with everybody, especially me. But I don't care what she thinks. Everybody already knows that Debbie Tracy is only a pile of garbage.

Which Reminds Me

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember hearing them talk about how they are the race of the reed flutes, you know, the thick canes that are hollowed out and holes punched to create a flute, a primitive recorder, which has a particular reedy sound identifiable as such. Using such a reed or cane flute, all they have to do is punch the buttons and blow to produce the sounds. Except, of course, that if the reed or cane flute is broken, there is no music. There is just a thin and hollow sound of answers blowing in the wind.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, don't we all have to do things that we don't want to do sometimes? But what specifically are you expecting me to do? If only I knew what the question was, maybe I could say yes or no. But not knowing or remembering what the question was, and my functionality mostly disabled, there is nothing that I can realistically do about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, whatever you may say or think, I well know that i have absolutely zero connection to the May-gun. Coincidentally, my birthday was in May, but that has nothing whatever to do with your May-gun. You can have that worthless piece of garbage. I won't need that for anything.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, we have all heard about how "he gently leads those that are with young." Which does not necessarily mean that we are going to let the mothers of small children run the show. You already have your work cut out for you, and if you cannot raise up a new generation of godly children who will follow the Lord and obey the laws, well then, maybe the next generation will have better luck next time around. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I often hear someone boasting and bragging about how they are paying for it. Fine, that might work for you, but I am not included in that bargain and/or deal. I have to go get a job and pay my own way, because not a penny of their stupid money trickles down to poor little me from whatever it is that they think that they are doing, which, even if they are paying a lot of money to do something, is not helpful to me in any way. They might as well not exist for all the good that they do for us. Or else I could just not exist. There was a divorce in our family, and Linda's tribe of idiots is no longer connected to us. They are just on their own and should not be expecting me to participate in their nonsense.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there was a divorce in the family, my mother's cousin Beverly having divorced Richard Declined, so probably from the bizarre interference of the nasty Declined family, one can easily imagine that there was probably some very good reason for that, although I really would prefer not to be burdened with the details of what happened between these persons who are very tangentially related to us, there being not much reason to ever think of their existence, if it were not for Henry Strickland, our great-grandfather. Thus, there would be no reason to explain myself to that vulgar little potty mouth slut Sue Declined, which I imagine could be easily arranged if she so insists.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am always shocked and horrified to hear that nasty vicious little dog Sue Declined yapping in the background, always so utterly rude, always on the attack, as if she had any brain in her empty head. hmmmm.... And does she have a cousin named Karen?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there is no law or contract or transaction requiring me to discuss with Java Boy, the contents of my 12th grade term paper on the topic of overpopulation, which involves many complications. I am not required to discuss anything of a personal nature with the Devil. There will be no deal with the Devil and/or Max and/or Java Boy. You do not have so much leverage on me as you seem to have imagined. I did not purchase the drugs offered for sale by the classmate of Debbie Lange the one time that I visited her school with her. That is never going to happen.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, thanks for clarifying the military mission of the petty despots of broadcasting. Even so, I am not your belonging, as if you could just shave me off without any complications as if I were nothing. There will be complications. There needs to be a more humane way of providing an escape hatch for poor little me, because I really don't care so much about "surviving." My talents would just be wasted on this broken schematic. I have already agreed to evacuate one way or another, check or money order matters not. I just need my escape hatch. Thank you.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember, speaking of journalism students who were boasting loudly of their future career in broadcasting, I can easily see that you have mistaken me for Machelle Bush. But I really wouldn't know much about that. These political people of various appellations, whether you vote for them or not, they are not necessarily going to be helpful in any sort of personal way. Perhaps they are expecting us to babysit their assorted connections while they are busy with more important matters such as ruling the nation, which in a way makes sense for them but does nothing for me. I was a print major. I really don't care that much about broadcasting careers. But some people would prefer to never let the facts and details get in the way of their preconceived schemes and notions.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is true that I had already read Danuta's book, which I had found in the bargain bin of a discount bookshop, and I too was surprised at some of the things that I read there, so that it sort of made sense to see that there was a rush to find her replacement, not that I would ever think of applying for that job. I never had any illusions of being that photogenic. I already know that I am too short to be a model or similar profession. I only read the book.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember during 4th or 5th grade visiting at the house of some girls we had met, maybe at school, and they were explaining to us their disdain for Beatles' music, and their reasonings were very good, they were making a lot of sense as to why to never listen to the Beatles, and they might have liked everyone to vow to never listen to the Beatles, to always hate the Beatles, and yet I do not remember myself necessarily making any promises in that regards, because, I don't know, for one thing my cousin Karen had already taken us to a Beatles movie that she wanted to see, so that did not seem to require codification to such a dogmatic extreme, and just as well, probably, because nowadays, in present-day culture, this music is piped in everywhere you go, there is no getting away from it, and you might say that the words are not understandable, but then again sometimes you catch yourself singing along, and suddenly realize that you did understand at least part of the words, and more than that would not necessarily be a good thing or worth the effort, given that we were warned to stay away.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, the thought has often crossed my mind, to ask something about how my name got on the hit list of North Carolina when I never had the slightest connection to their Bakker machine. Saw them on TV a few times but so did how many other millions of people? not a such a huge fan that I would care to be reminded of that later.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that I never thought to ask Greg whether he was a student of Buda or was he a Pest? Anyway, I was not expecting or wanting any further information from Greg. I suppose that you would be expecting me to pay if I had wanted to participate in your fancy cruises to Hungary and wherever. And where am I supposed to get all of this magic money to do all of these amazing things that I never really wanted anyway? How am I supposed to pull all of this magic money out of a hat? You are so ridiculous, as usual.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that Jan was talking about the saga of Danuta, and how her biographical book had contained some surprised that were previously unknown to her audience. Also, Jan said something about Terry, although I cannot quite remember how that went. She had seen Terry, who sometimes appeared on the show, somewhere, but that was a time when mostly Sheila and Tim were holding sway. I really wasn't paying much attention to the backstage drama, but I cannot speak for some other person who might be better informed on these points.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that while I lived in Virginia, for two months my roommate was Jan from North Carolina, but then she moved out so I had to find someone else to help with paying the rent. Jan was full of insider gossip and I think her boyfriend worked at CNN. Even so, I cannot remember now much about that. I imagine that it is probably a nice place to work for persons who have skills in technical production work, which would probably not be me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, all of which reminds me that I could name some names, but then again that wasn't my problem. It is hard for reasonable people to understand what you were thinking, but then again I really don't want to have to listen to you talking about your boring life.

What idiot could ever be romantically interested in marrying that creepy old toad Solomon, who already has 300 wives and 700 concubines? Obviously, you were only in it for the money and the power, the old geezer himself being only an incidental problematic accessory to your dynastic ambitions. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I often hear hints of the recurring plot theme highly promoted by Italian magazine witches: They stole the husband that I had left or abandoned. Ummm, for one thing, I never had a husband, so this plot line can never happen in real life, liar. No ring, no game. Also, all of your efforts to install a husband for yourself to steal later have fallen flatter than a flitter. And also, I do not recall myself ever abandoning a man worth keeping. But if he wants to go, I cannot stop him. As they say, you can lead a horse to water but you cannot make him drink. Your bizarre obsession with the worthless dregs that I had discarded is actually sort of fascinatingly stupid, but that is who you are. Useless to engage in dialogue with vulgar trashy harem bimbos. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, this is somewhat awkward, how would I know what crazy thing Libby said or did whenever? I wasn't paying that much attention to Libby's existence that I would know what was going on with her. I heard that some people were wanting to plug me into her Puerto Rico machine, but I did not like that idea. What random insanity would be the result of that, given that I have no idea what is going on over there on the other side of the alphabet? They know very well what they purposely and deliberately forgot to tell me about, so I imagine they must be find it very amusing to hear me floundering for answers that I never heard in the first place.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, when the roll was called in high school classrooms, it was my habit to say "Here," whereas some other persons would say, "Present," although I cannot remember exactly who. I don't know who was keeping track of the "Here's" and the "Present's." I only know that, I don't know, somehow it seemed more normal for me to say "Here," (as in "Here I am, send me"?) and not "Present," whereas some other persons apparently sell themselves cheap. However, that does not make me a Norwegian dishwasher, and yourself the dish.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, what was Robin's last name? I remember hearing that she was expelled from school, but I refrained from asking more questions about the why of that, because given that what she did to me was so ridiculous, one can only imagine what else she might have done to trigger her own expulsion might also be unspeakably weird or more so.

I do remember her talking about being originally from Buffalo, a frozen waste of no interest to me. And are all persons from upstate New York so neurotic? Makes you wonder.