Which Reminds Me

Yes, whether that was Vickie Canfield from the Open Bible church or one of those other girls who we occasionally had lunch with, whose names I cannot quite recall, there was also the transfer student and maybe a couple of other people, I really cannot quite recall with any reliable precision. Yes, who knows what wrong information might be floating around in Vickie's head?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember how they were always so angry about us being too boastful of our own country, which is the United States, and always warning us not to be boastful. Yes, and what other country than my own am I allowed to boast about? After all, I was born in Modesto, well, actually Ceres, the next town over. And why can't we arrange to have these Italian people shipped home to Italy, if it bothers them so much that we are boastful, and they really are more boastful of Italy than of "our" country. Yes, that did bother me also, but I try to shrug off these annoying people as not worth wasting my energies upon. Very soon I will have returned to the United States, where I can finally dump these Italian Sangios in the garbage bucket on the way out the door.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, all of that commotion does make me wonder now that hideous Baptist dog got her claws into that picture. Who are you Baptist swine to lecture me, when you are allowing your Protestant daughter to date that worthless Catholic idiot. This is not the time or place to be for us dating repugnant Catholic idiots, not that I was the person who originally made an issue about that, if only I could remember who said that with a bitter tone, but whatever, even so, I have no reason to have any fond affection for those annoying people.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that for centuries the Romans or Italians have striven to establish themselves as the Master Race of the Universe, and what about it? Doesn't every obnoxious little brat imagine himself in charge of the universe? I have to leave now before the racial problems gets "even worse," because anyway nobody really cares what I think about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is somewhat annoying for me to hear often someone yapping in the background about how there is some person unknown to me who goes about calling himself Uncle Sam and claiming to be related to me. I already have enough problems without this unidentified person who sometimes identifies himself as Foursquare interference, other times as gobbledy-gook. Not to insult the Foursquare people, but we always were AG that I know of and what would you know about that when your messaging shows signs of not having a clue what that even means. And who has not seen those cartoonish pictures of the national symbol known as Uncle Sam in the textbooks on United States history? You cannot be him. You are not the symbol of national pride.

Oh, and now that I have done my genealogical research, I have learned that my grandmother actually did have a brother named Sam, who lived up in northern California, where he had five or six children, all of whom I have never met. I have no idea what their lives were about or whatever happened to them. Talk about a headache, don't be unreasonably asking me questions about these unknown persons. I just have no idea what their problem was and I really don't care so much that I should be bothered further. Why should I put my neck out to investigate them when they have not voluntarily offered a shred of evidence of their miserable existence?

My grandmother also had a brother named Joe, who is sometimes mentioned in great-grandmother's diary? He was a sad person. Joe seemed to have a lot of problems.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, now that I have studied some of these issues more carefully, and am now aware of the existence of Harvey and some other issues, it becomes worrisome to think that the Methodists think they are going to walk away with having everybody in their pockets, and if you are not a Methodist you are just clueless. And some of these Lutherans have gone Catholic and what does Protestantism mean anyway now that everything is reduced to the lowest common denominator? Harvey, who died in the 1940s, outlived his own Methodist denomination, and how can there be any certainty in the future? And if there is no denomination, where will the Christians of China, in churches that we originally planted, turn for guidance in the future, after the United States has so thoroughly changed from its original mission that they are no longer remembered? These are questions to which I don't know the answers.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, you people are so stupid you probably voted for Hillary, and certainly she is very popular with the masses of people. But sometimes popularity just is not enough to cut the mustard. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am reminded of an old joke that I heard in childhood: Q. Who was the shortest man in the Bible? A. Bildad the Shuhite [Sounds like Shoe-height, get it?]

And in Job 18 we find the words of Bildad the Shuhite: "He has no offspring or descendants among his people, no survivor where once he lived. People of the west are appalled at his fate; those of the east are seized with horror. Surely such is the dwelling of an evil man; such is the place of one who does not know God."

Ok, so does this mean that having no offspring or descendants necessarily signifies a person's wickedness? How can you boast of knowing God when you have not yet reproduced yourself? Yes, I do remember that I once sang a song about a ring and yet there was no ring. It was only an  performance, acting, about an abstract and theoretical ring in principle.

Is there no good person without descendants and is there no evil person who has descendants? Is the having of descendants or offspring necessarily the signal that one knows God, whereas the person who has no offspring or descendants is necessarily unknown to God?

Knowing that Job's friends were later harshly rebuked by God for being mostly useless, and that my understanding of the Gospel and my personal salvation mostly is not based on the commentaries of Bildad the Shuhite, I somehow do not put very much weight on this particular passage of the Bible. Sometimes these commentaries are there to show us what not to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, amazing how one simple comment about the beautiful scenery can provoke all of this nonsense, all of these carnal Southern Baptists threatening to kill me as if. As if. As if the thought of that had ever crossed my mind of killing someone over that. And as was said earlier, if I do not cooperate with my people to help solve this problem of definitions, and to break off the yoke of the Baptist powermongers, then help will come from somewhere else and the Baptist powermongers can now occupy the cave that they were preparing for the Pentecostals. So that is more how I see that. Sort of.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I might as well not go to Louisiana. Some person distantly related to me had offered the idea of somehow updating the old family book, which was written by grandfather's cousin who lived in Louisiana, but somehow I think that the spirit of that would be gone. It just wouldn't work for me to go there.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, for a quite a while I thought that you were saying "Find ring, find ring!" Huh? What? "Findringen"? Is that really where the money is locked away?

Ummm, actually not. Notwithstanding those videos of Tolkien's creepy little monster, Gollum, now that I more closely scrutinize these curiously elaborate and nearly inscrutable capital letters of the German typographical script, which at first glance all look the same to me, I see that the word is actually "Eindringen" which translated means, according to the Collins online version of the dictionary:

1. (= einbrechen)in etw acc eindringen to force one’s way into sthin das Land eindringen (military) to penetrate into the country2. (= hineindringen)in etw acc eindringen to go into sth; [Fremdwort, Amerikanismus] to find its way into sth3. (= bestürmen)auf jdn eindringen to go for sb (mit with); (mit Fragen, Bitten etc) to besiege sb

Oh, ok, so, whatever. So? To plunge into the swimming pool? 

Now I am remembering that someone was making the point of how when you got married you pledged to get into the head of your spouse to figure out what makes them tick and how to please them, and how that brings along with it all of the junk of your in-laws and other friends and associations of your spouse. 

Ok, fine, no argument there. So? 

Myself not having a spouse, I have made no such pledge and I actually do NOT want to know more about all of the junk that might found in the head of your spouse and in-laws and other associates. I do not want to clutter my head with all of your junk. I don't need that. I already have enough problems of my own without all of your rusty nails that nobody wants. 

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that you were saying something, years ago, about the mysterious Book of Dissing that you were saying that I would never get to see. Of course I could not have seen that while your attitude problem was screaming in my face. And yet now I can see that is actually spelled "Dyzan." So, yes, thanks for the clarification.

And if some day you should get that you are being thrown out of a window, well, you will need to understand that your extremely anti-Christian aggressiveness is really starting to scare people, so we need to be studying that. So you really think that you are the master race, well la-di-da. That attitude did not work so well for Hitler, now did it? So why should icky you get a free pass to be boasting about that? Did the thought ever occur to you of the brilliance of the bright stars denied to the human race because I have not been able to get married and have my children? But time and chance happen to all. Supervisors have designated for a singles place which might seem a very depressing job for me but someone has to do it. Better me than clueless you.

I should not have to tell you, it goes without saying, that you will not be elected to represent the Christian interests of our Christian family. You have so disqualified yourself long ago, needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, ummm, uh, oh, (sarcastically?) you were expecting me to say thanks, Greg, for regaling us with various stories and information about your pet crabs. I suppose that they probably would have found some use for that, too. Nothing escapes their notice.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, one of the nice things about a job is that I can go home and drop those people off at the office and not have to see them again outside of office hours, except for, Ok, maybe a very rare sighting elsewhere. Beyond that, they have really no place here at my house, not being invited to come to my house to make a huge racket about nothing much.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I too have noticed that rarely does any intelligent thought seem to spring from the vapid empty brains of Atlanta. Yet not for that reason would the thought ever have occurred to me of writing a series of ridiculous letters impersonating a secret lover. That stunt belonged entirely to my sister and her classmate. I only learned about that after the fact, when my mother told me what had happened, and that René was ordered to go and apologize to Lori, which she did. So that happened. Myself not knowing one thing about that, have no reason to discuss that, given that this explains in a nutshell everything that I know about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is very insidious how those little monsters would hack me if I would let them, which explains why they are all fired as far as I am concerned. I know that very well which is why I am out of here, just have to do my time and then I will be gone. Sorry for the delay, or, no, I am not sorry to learn what I have to learn, because such is life. If I don't take charge of myself, certainly they would be so much worse.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does seem a bit pathetic, how these rich and powerful people often clamor and scream, pretending to be related to me when actually not. Sorry but no, you may not have my autograph.

Which Reminds Me

To summarize, I wrote my high school term paper on the assigned topic of overpopulation, which is a multi-faceted issue of many permutations and complications, and there is nothing more that I wish to say about that at this time. I do not feel myself personally called to the medical profession, and in fact I protest against this random law requiring a mandatory clinical analysis, when I am perfectly capable of independent living, assuming the appropriate economic condition in place.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, speaking of probation, I noticed the peculiar usage of the word, "pro-hombres," which Pedro Del Río, the Chilean, uses to describe the persons to whom various statues and monuments are dedicated in the Capital building at Washington. In English we don't really use the term "pro-men," so in English translation we tend to think of this word as generally meaning heroes or great men who accomplished great things for their country, which in this case is the United States of America. I suppose you could make some other stretches of meaning but I really don't see why you would want to belabor that. Sometimes a dog is a dog and a hero is a hero, and so on and so forth.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am well aware of my own duty to honor my father and my mother. I am not sure why you are making that so hard or difficult for me. I cannot understand, why is that a problem for you to see that I am honoring my wonderful mother and my wonderful father? I was not interfering with your duty in that regard, although I can see how that might be a massive problem in your case, so I do not see why you are making that so hard for me. There is nothing for me to discuss with you in that regard. You are not my parents so I have no such duty in regards to you.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, what is the use of quibbling about copyright permissions when they, on the other hand, can go to the public domain and steal texts in massive amounts, whether from spies or whatever, to construct their own private fantasy life, unconnected to the reality that we know anything about.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I never did have any Southern accent, which apparently annoys some distant relatives, even if they have never met me, much less heard me talk. They only wish I had their Tackett problem. To us Hazel was only an in-law. To them she was their mother. And were you seriously expecting me to insult their mother? I have other things on my mind. We can't talk to them now.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do sometimes wonder why you are so fascinated with the Ways. I have the blue album of "The Way" from the 1970s, which actually I still sort of like, which must mean that it is a classic, although I never did buy their other album, the yellow album. But as for Miss Way, myself having some actual experience during college of seeing how she likes to pick arguments about and discuss various points that I might prefer to avoid, and myself not wanting to be bothered with the troublesome task of having to inform Miss Way that I am dropping her from my friends' list for that very reason, I at least for one would prefer to put her away quietly and simply, so as to avoid the hassle that might result, and not always have to create a huge scene about nothing much, and also to leave the door open later if she changes her mind and repents of being a colossal nuisance. Why are you not cooperating with my perfectly reasonable and civil modus operandi? What is wrong with you? Why all this to-do about nothing, this tempest in a teapot?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is true that in the past I gravitated to chatterbox friends who talk so much that I did not have work too hard trying to think of something to say. However, I am actually now far past the point of needing some chatterbox to fill the airwaves with irrelevant trivialities that often do not quite fit the bill. Sometimes I think that if you people would ever be quiet long enough to listen once in a while you might learn something.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember that some of my relatives were big fans of that TV show, "Hee Haw," many years ago, but most of them are gone now, and what is country music anyway, nowadays but a pile of nonsense, recycled themes with a twist that falls over the edge of anything that would be of concern to me, or that I would care to be bothered to comment upon. To summarize, basically, I could not care less about country music or Motown. I have other things on mind than these trivialities of the music industry.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that there was some talk about country music, which I mostly don't care for. That would certainly be a daunting task for any one person to do, of cleaning up the filthy dirty fleabag business of country music. I mean, who cares? You would need an entire army to be able to kick the worthless fleabags of country music to the curb. They ain't got much to boast of in comparison to Motown when it comes to messaging, when pretty much neither side has much to say about anything, having already burned out their brains on drugs and other various sins, and so they can mostly only rerun the old hits from years ago, because they really have nothing new to say about anything, there is no new sound emerging, it could take a long time to cycle out these country music and/or Motown fleabags, and there is no guarantee that a better generation is being prepared to improve matters.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I forgot. I actually do have some portions of my rock collection which I brought into the United States after high school. By rocks I mean pieces of rock of a mineral nature, such as, for example, lava, pumice and other pretty rocks that I collected and which reminded me of various places that I had visited at one time or another during my childhood. I seem to remember that my mother had threatened to make me throw everything away in the yard, and I might have thrown out some of the larger pieces, but I still have quite a few of the rocks, although I can no longer remember where all of them came from. My memory cells are fading faster now. Even so, yes, and what kind of idiot brings a suitcase full of rocks from overseas and gets them through customs at the Los Angeles airport?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I find it very difficult to comprehend why anyone in America would be pondering the alleged ongoing feud of Bonaparte vs. Beauhamais. I am so not into European politics, and skimming Wikipedia I learn basically that Louis preferred to fight and die in the Anglo-Zulu War of 1879, thus dashing to pieces their best dynastic hope of the time, to be crowned Napoleon IV. This is not a thought that had troubled my thoughts at all. Kings often rise and fall in this world. There are no guarantees that you are going to get another chance to seize the French throne. And here I am thinking that the Bourbons were the French kings, but yes I imagine there are many pretenders out there jostling for position, even if nobody was asking that question.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember being asked by various persons, possibly including roommates, about those red marks on my neck, which I explained as, I don't know, maybe I inadvertently scratched my neck when I was putting my clothes on or off, or brushing my hair or something like that. My skin is a bit sensitive that way, said I.

Oddly, one day while walking across the SCC campus, I passed near Tim Cederblom who was walking the other direction, and when he saw me he made some bizarre comment about the hickey on my neck which I got from Terry, which was a most astonishingly false and complete lie on his part, and why should I dignify the idiotic nonsense of an obstinately non-serious joker with any serious thought, and also remembering that Tim does not respond well to any type of criticism, and also that his family has a huge political clout how dare I criticize them in any way, they can really make my life miserable if I should even try to fix that, when they imagine themselves so immune from any attempt to correct the engraved record of their iniquities, it is hard for me to know how to react to that. At the time I chose to shrug off Tim's idiotic rantings as the most recent symptom of mental illness, rather than to create a scene, because anyway how many times do I have to repeat this same explanation about the red marks on my neck which I have already explained to several people.

And yet on the other hand, I cannot just let such an appalling lie by Tim go unremarked, the narrative uncorrected. My reputation is at stake. I cannot be expected to keep track of Terry's many trashy bimbos. I am getting a bit annoyed with these Viking bores and more and more I could not care less about volunteering to speak for them.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, an easier to solve all of these problems might be to strangle those idiotic nitwits Jill and Linda. I for one, at least, will never speak to them again in this lifetime.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does seem somewhat ridiculous to require me to reconstruct every conversation that I ever had with whoever that was. But I do remember that one day while living there in California I went to visit Grandpa Calkins, I was only there for a very short time, maybe half an hour or something, and there was some guy living there who was wearing motorcycle gear and he seemed sort of cute, and I might have mentioned this to someone, although I cannot remember now what his name was, because I did not return to find out more about him. I cannot keep track of all these people. Next.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, having done my genealogical research, I am vaguely aware that my Barth ancestors on my Dad's mother's side of the family, immigrated from Europe in 1850, from Germany. Whether they were supporters of Napoleon or not, is a thought so far from my thoughts as to not merit any comment, given that I have no idea of that one way or the other. And yet all of these allusions to Napoleon are starting to make us wonder why.

And also the castle of Vlad the Impaler stands waiting to be occupied by someone who knows something about that, which makes us wonder who wants to go there.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, would I really seriously need to remind trashy stripper bimbo Cori that she has no place lecturing me on the use of the toilet scrubbing brush? One would think that wicked Cori and her team would go hide under a rock somewhere to avoid the public scrutiny.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember how at one time when I was living in California, my mother would have liked me to room with that single lady who had a nice house, and even if all I would be required to do was to clean my bathroom, I was very leery of rooming with these brittle people who mention that they are somehow related to someone from college. I already had enough experience with how those people at first pretend to be so nice and then later they pull some tricks that make themselves appear to be so good and suddenly they forget all the bad things that they did, and all of a sudden it is like I never knew who they really were, and were we ever introduced, and why did I bother in the first place to think that we were ever friends.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, during the first three months or so that I lived in Virginia Beach, I worked at a call center there where I would call people and try to sell them various things. I did not get past the first three months because my sales statistics were not good enough. I could not sell enough to justify them keeping me on there. Incidentally, one day near the end of my time there, during a break, I failed to purchase some crystals that were offered to me by a man there, who was saying that said crystals are endued with energy, a power source if you will, and yet, however that may be, I felt no inclination or need to clutter my life with some New Age bric-a-brac which seemed to me of an occult nature.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I cannot say that I am not a bit shocked at the level of snark emanating from the Robertson clan, whose abuse of Harvey's book has gone way beyond the original merits of the case, to the point where we must ask ourselves, how interesting it might be to ship the entire Robertson clan home to the hell of Utah, where they can continue their rampage of joking about persons with "only" two wives. Because, really, I often congratulate myself on having absolutely zero, none, no Mormons in my family tree, so obviously that was not "our" problem.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that years ago for a few months my desk was facing that of Patty Robertson, who went on to marry her boss Ed, the company's vice president, although I don't remember attending the wedding, we were not such close friends as that, and they might have gone to her home church in San Jose or Sacramento, California, to get married, and then they were traveling and doing ministry together for a few years, and I do remember that Patty also sings very well, until they got divorced, as the rumors said, and Patty went home to California and Ed backslid and went to Virginia Beach where he went to work for a New Age company there promoting things that were not so Christian as one might expect. But then again we remember that Ed scoffed when a visitor to the company gave him a gift of a little book with a poem about the "Hound of Heaven," because what would Ed know about poetry, or about how God tracks people down wherever they might be and brings them around, when he is running the other way. People who are only concerned with counting widgets might sometimes lose sight of the bigger picture. So while it is good that there are some persons on the planet such as Ed who are good at counting widgets, that is really not enough information for me to comment intelligently upon matters that were none of my concern. I really don't care that much about whatever Patty does.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I could not help the posturings of Carmen and the way that she glares at me when talking to "them," as if to exclude me from the audience because I really don't belong there. Yes, and I really find it hard to articulate how much I could not care less about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember that when I was in journalism school, that I had at first felt somewhat flattered that someone in Georgia had reprinted an article of mine in his newspaper in Georgia, but then at the same time Katherine Pile, our president of the newspaper and chief editor, was appalled to see that he had reprinted something of ours without permission. She wrote a lengthy letter to him protesting this inappropriate use of my materials, and not having sought permission to reprint, and I think that she asked me to sign on to the letter also, so I think that I might have, because, anyway, she was the chief editor and president of the newspaper so one assumes that she knows what she is doing, even though I never would have thought of doing that. Later, I sort of thought about how that letter sounded sort of legalese and hard-nosed, so probably that guy in Georgia probably would have that enduring impression of me which would probably discourage him from ever bothering to use my materials in the future, permission or not, given the hassles involved, and yet it would not be worth the bother of me trying to revise that situation, given that why should he care to listen to my appeals, and anyway he doesn't pay me, and also, come to think of it, I actually think that I do in a general sense have a problem with persons from Georgia or thereabouts making inappropriate use of some things of mine, not wanting to be too hard-nosed about it, and yet the hassle of trying to fix the creeping language problem is sometimes too heavy for one person to bear, a job worthy of the FBI or CIA perhaps, but the legal fees would be overwhelming.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I have vaguely noticed that I am getting more and more snippety in my old age. Who would have thunk it? All these traps everywhere and not a drop of water to drink, whereas look how nice and sweet everyone is to Dagwood and Blondie, even when they are always cooking up a tempest in a teapot. When you treat people like garbage, well, that's what you get back, a lot of garbage.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I have been busy, said I to Lori Way when crossing paths in the elevator when she pressed the point of something, I don't remember, something about how am I doing, and then she was annoyed at my simply convenient cliche of an answer, the routine explanation of being busy, and then suddenly everyone was trying to press the point of whether I really am busy or did I lie about being busy. Hmmm.... Why does this matter? Why do I suddenly have to explain my life and everything that I am doing to Lori Way or her crew of little worker bees? Hmmmm.....

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember during college, my first year at SCC, there was a quad of guys who were tobacco chewers and apparently proud of it and they had some points that were communicated to me by one of their girlfriends, Heather, who lived next door to me in the girls' dorm at the time, and she married him anyway, Dwight McConnell. Also Lori Way married Al Moore and a couple of other couples whose names elude me at the moment. There was a time when I thought of them as college friends, sort of, but then again, if they press the point, they will find that I am not very sympathetic about their tobacco lobbying endeavors, and yet on the other hand, to each his own, why should I lose sleep over their behavior issues.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely heard something about a Singapore deal that with struck by that rather dull peasant Terry a few years ago, by virtue of her claims to be rich, although I never really understand what that was about. They never really explained what they were talking about.

Whatever that meant, that puts us in an awkward position, because themselves being the rich people with the money bags that control what is done or not, even though they have no other talent than restaurant cookery, and they never contributed a dime to the funding of our work, yet they go around making all of these arrangements as if they were in control of the universe, thus obligating everyone to suck up to and kow-tow to that creepy old fart Don Benner, whom we might prefer to loathe, but never get a chance to drop his selections off the menu.

Which Remind Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that someone was talking about Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), the American author whose amazing short stories we studied in English literature class in high schools, and it is true that his subject matter was often quite dark, all about disease and murder and always crowing about ravens in way that makes the birds seem a demonic manifestation. And also he died fairly young, at age 40, and with such a shortened career left behind mostly short stories and poems.

Even so, it does seem quite strange, your odd obsession with trying to exterminate that type of writer personality. While it is true that the writer personality is rare enough anyway, so there is not really a danger of overpopulating the earth with replicas of Poe, still is there not a place for the full variety of personalities, those more common as well as those rarer tones without whose voice the world might be a more impoverished and less interesting place, and without whose voices some things might get lost in the shuffle.

Thus, while ultimately the bad choices of Poe, who spent too much time in bad company and ran up gambling debts, may have led to the untimely end of his shortened and not very successful career, yet that might not necessarily be the fault of his personality type. His circumstances did not seem very favorable to success, even though he was a very talented writer and left behind some classics, that was not quite enough. Anyway, I do not understand why this sudden obsession with Poe.

Yes, who was that wicked witch who was crowing about Poe?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I always did look down my nose at the silly nitwits of Atlanta, always trying to build a yellow brick road to nowhere. If you take the Reese's pieces option, some other persons might even bend over backwards to avoid that, because everybody knows that one of these points God is going to knock their Baptist blocks off, not that I would know exactly when that might happen.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I did lie. In a moment of anger and frustration I said that I would kill my sister, however I did not actually do that. That was about the moment when I realized that actually she seriously was intending to kill me, and killing her would have definitively solved that problem, because appealing to mother to make her stop continuously harassing me never seemed to have any effective result, but then again, on second thought, why should I be the one to do the serious jail time.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember hearing about the guy who does very well selling information about beta fish, but that is not who I am.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do understand that the government has to do whatever the government has to do in the public arena, and yet I myself as a private citizen do not recall myself ever asking the government to intervene in my private life, that there would be something that I would need to say about that or any reason to protest what is none of my business.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is unfortunate that vulgar hideous dog Irene managed to find herself a U.S. citizen for a husband and other asistance. Otherwise, we could have been much easier to have her wicked evil butt deported to the Argentine Hellpit where she probably belongs, not that I would know exactly why anyone would care about the idiotic rantings of that horrid little monster.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do think that it would be way too much of a stretch for you to expect me to defend this repugnant creepy ex-boyfriend of Stephanie from the consequences of whatever happened, which was never really explained in technical detail, not that I would want to know more about that, who I really do not know at all, but since everybody is pretending that they were important people, and that Stephenie was not so full of herself and not much else, when actually they were both among the dumbest Dummies in Dummies class, mostly ignored by the smartest people so probably they were starving for attention, so everybody is now heaping upon them all of the public attention which they so much craved but actually in reality did nothing to deserve. Why can't everybody just get smart and dump this worthless Share card in the garbage?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, speaking of church, probably in the last couple of months yes, I probably have had communion at least once. But of course we Protestants have a different idea of communion than do the Catholics, although this is not a time for studying the details of that, not being certain of whether you can tell the difference between a simile and a metaphor. The cannibals might get confused about that. And also women should probably just be silent about these matters. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how well I remember that during the summer before my senior year of high school, when there was an AIM team of our church denomination who came from Arkansas for a week, how I served as a translator for door-to-door witnessing and that is how I came to lead various persons to the Lord. The team would introduce themselves using a script and from there I sometimes had to improvise a little bit the rest of the explanations and leading persons into the prayer of salvation, if they were open to that. So that was really quite an experience for me, actually doing that myself instead of only watching other people. The angels rejoice for even one sinner who repents, so I feel like I did my share of that.

Yes, you would think that I would have also been able to witness to certain vicious nasty people at high school, but no, they were not approachable, most of them were busy with their own climbing of the social ladder. Their heads were somewhere else and the timing wasn't right. Just look, for example, at the pagan trash Whitakers. You would think that I would have been able to witness to them, but no, it was impossible.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember having read the Pollyanna books that were in our little school library during childhood, and I do think that the point of Pollyanna is often wrongly understood and mangled in real life and popular culture. I well remember that the name of Pollyanna's husband was James, a name which because of that I always thought sounded so nice in a fictional setting, but which does not translate as well into reality. I do not have a husband named James or any other name for that matter. Also, nobody is fooled into imagining that that silly nitwit in any way resembles Pollyanna.

Yes, you were saying that I am not allowed to exercise the Pollyanna brand of positive thinking because you will be shoveling all the negativity that you can muster onto me, so that they can by contrarian ying-yang mechanism keep the Pollyanna positive advantage all to themselves.

Such a bummer!

And what would you know about Pollyanna, anyway? You were never in our library. You never read the books, only saw the title referenced somewhere. The name of Pollyanna is often thrown around without any thought of what that really means, but logic and pretty pictures alone cannot illuminate these spiritual things. Something else would be required.

Which Reminds Me

I really do not need this worthless "James" person for anything. I do not understand how they came up with that crackpot idea. In this next life, when I look in the mirror, I do not want to see his ugly face looking back at me, needless to say. Yuk! I don't get my stuff from the outer dregs.

Online he was boasting of having repented and turned to God after high school and tried to rearrange his life, which is all well and good. I am glad to hear that some church people tried to counsel him. We are not saying that we do not understand the forgiveness that is granted by Jesus to these sinners of blurry definition as well as those more well known.

However, on the other hand, I personally do not share his obsession with Stephanie and cannot be expected to care. She might have been his torrid high school love affair, but as for myself, having sat there in economics class and seen the obvious evidence of their fond affections for each other, I am in no way fooled by this latter charade. That was no concern of mine. I congratulate myself on avoiding these trashy people.

Spare me the drama.

They obviously need to work out their mental problems with professionally trained counselors, before trying to dazzle us with their wrong and garbled schemata so lacking in actual facts.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does somewhat blur the picture, hearing a lot of chatter about how that little weasel James imagines himself related to me. Actually not.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember years ago how Pam loved to insult me by calling me "mousy" and other derogatory terms. And when was the last time that I bothered to try to talk to Pam? She was one of those annoyingly dull people of Michigan. Quite a few years actually. I really don't care if I never see those people again in this lifetime.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, as a principle, generally speaking, I think that it is probably a good thing that there are some religious television channels that are broadcasting some programming of a religious nature around the clock. That said, few are such programs that I would ever watch. I do not wish myself to get involved in their horrid scandals of no concern to me. They have no job that I would want. They are the most repugnantly boring persons to my way of thinking, always blah blah blah, always "Behind the Scenes,", never anything real that matters. So why are they constantly yapping about me and wanting me to go there and continually harassing me? I think that they should mail me a check signaling their apologies and intention to top harassing me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I tried to be nice to those little Canadian peasants, but they were so mean to me, always so riled up about nothing much, and I don't see that ever changing, only more of the same and even worse. So I really see no reason for me to discuss this with them and their interposed intermediary bridge of no use to me. I need a new life with new people who are not so dead set against me before I even open my mouth in the first place. Or else I could die. Yes, the latter option would be so much easier. But then again this gift of time might be something not to waste on useless dialogues with utterly boring yappy dogs named Stephanie. Scotland has its low-level peasant trash just like everywhere, right/ Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, there you go again reminding me of the existence of Raymond. I really don't much care, but I do think that I might remember that in high school that it might have been maybe Raymond who, during the poetry analysis of rock lyrics sessions in English class, presented Led Zeppelin's classic, "Stairway to Heaven," in which the lyrics describe that lady who thinks that money will buy her everything. Oh, was he taking about a particular person? I really wouldn't know. Odds are that there might be many gold-digging women who might fit that description, especially in New York. That is how many superficial rich people are, all tempest in a teapot and not much else. But that was no concern of mine.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I have noticed how you rant and rave about chokeholds, even though you really have no place to be complaining about that, given that you are more guilty of that than anyone else and also you started that game. The chokehold is the biggest weapon in your arsenal which explains why some people will never talk to you again in this lifetime, in case you were wondering. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do vaguely remember that probably newspaper editors would not favor the expression of "a lot of this" or "a lot of that" because it seems too vernacular or casual, but of course sometimes it is easier to use these conversational terms because regular people understand what you mean, even if finicky grammarians might not approve.

And also, I have no idea why the people of Ohio or somebody always seem to be chattering about a "lot." I really have no idea what that means or why should care.

Substituting wrong words for right words to obscure the meaning does nothing to clarify this matter.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, the thought has often crossed my mind, of whether, if we were to bug and tap Darren Drake of the Musicians Guild, and a cousin of the Buenos to some degree, as we have recently learned, and put a microphone to his private thoughts, whether we might not hear a bitter tirade similar to what is emanating from your own mouth. But no good thing ever comes out of North Dakota, experience seems to say. They seem to live in an alternate universe up there in the Scandinavian Territories.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I thought that we had already pondered and dispatched the problem of the disgusting Stephanie chatterbox roadblock in a more humane and tactful way long ago. But there you go again, fishing for more of what I had completely forgotten about. There is a point where I cannot deal with that anymore, I just have to kick Stephanie to the curb because there was nothing nice and polite to say about that, that I should trouble myself with further thought about Stephanie, who anyway was refusing to say hello to me, and time is short, and I have to get on with my life.