Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember when I was about age 13 having lunch with my Mom at the department store restaurant which is decorated with various paintings and sculptures of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. These characters are a dime a dozen down there, but my mind has blurred on whether that was Freund's or Siman's department store. I forget. 

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do think that if I bought the book from eBay or some used book vendor, that does not constitute any material support directly to the author, given that the secondary used book market does not constitute any revenue directly to him. Besides which, what evil could be expected from some childhood acquaintance? 

And there was that online conversation about whether I would help them with reattaching the head of Saint Thomas More to his body, buried separately, and even if you could manage to stitch that together, would it stand up and talk and be alive again? No, probably not, that would probably be a useless pursuit.  

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I noticed that it was your choice to hire that Latina witch Debbie, so obviously it will be your responsibility, not mine, to do whatever she wants. Not my problem. I will not care, I will not lift a finger, do not bother me with your Debbie garbage. 

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I see no reason for me to wade through all of this dense literary verbiage, beyond noting the title of the book, that is to say: "Utopia Undone: The Fall of Uruguay in the Novels of Carlos Martinez Moreno." Sometimes it is better to leave the books on the shelves unopened without delving into their dreary contents. My brain does not want to absorb even that. 

Coincidentally, my late grandfather had something to say about St. Thomas More, who was the author of "Utopia," but I doubt there would have been much correspondence between our More and Kenton's fallen Utopia of the Uruguayan variety. More's book "Utopia," is still considered a classic even if somewhat controversial, but anyway, these Spanish authors are not well known in Engliish and/or American/English circles so it is hard for us to say much about them and the dreary grooves of dismal thoughts that may be reflected there.  

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I see that you already have your appointed yellow phone, so why are you bothering me with that stuff/ Some yellow phones are better than other yellow phones, to be sure, but anyway, your yellow phone was not my problem. Those Swedish make the worst yellow phones ever, but yellow phones named Sylvia are also quite useless and bothersome. But anyway, you got to know when to hold em and when to fold em, as the saying goes.  

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember hearing something about Kenton Stone, so I looked around and found his one and only book, fallen within the category of literary criticism, analyzing some boring Uruguayan author, the country where he lived for a number of years. I only remember him from when I was 8 years old, so it is sort of annoying to be mistaken for his little sister, who has no choice of brotherhood. She is stuck with that, whereas I can more or less explain how I do not remember those people either. How dare they pretend to attend my high school in El Salvador,  leveraging their distant cousin Anita Stone, who I remember as a pompous arrogant snob. It is not like Stone is ever going to have any other place in my life. And he is not even properly Spanish, when that is only his Spanish language, not really his cause, only observed from the viewpoint of a native English speaker, as someone online was saying. So you may have your Ph.D. in Spanish and yet not be widely accepted due to an obsessive preoccupation with your own personal idiosyncrasies and beer bottle parasites. 

 Oh, did I read somewhere that he received a grant to help fund his writing? But then if he bombs it will not be so easy the next time around to get any grant funding for just another boring mishmash of whatever Spanish literature. Technology has progressed greatly in 200 years. 

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that I did not make it past the three-month probation for the telemarketing job in Virginia Beach. The person who laid me off said that I had not met the sales quota so there was nothing more to say about that. There was another guy working there who succeeded and he saw me at school and was talking about that and suggesting that maybe I did something wrong, which I cannot imagine how that could happen. All I ever did was read the script so they could not be complaining about that. The only other thing that I can think of is that I failed to buy the crystal thing that was offerd for sale during a break time. But there was no remedy for that. We were as grass that quickly fades and is shoveled into the fire, as the Psalm says. 

Weird that I would be getting mail about that years later, from Ed or whoever that was, attempting to reconfigure the story.