Judy

Yes, Judy Umstead always did have the most rotten attitude of any person I ever saw in my life. I only roomed with her for two months and that was much too long. I never want to hear another word about or from that horrible person from Pennsylvania. If her boyfriend Joe did break up with her later I would not be surprised given that no one could get along with her or tolerate her temper tantrums and sudden screaming fits as for example when my alarm clock woke her up and also the time I dropped my hairbrush in the sink while getting ready for breakfast. I think that she lived in Pennsylvania which is another reason to avoid that state like the plague. I am sorry about Joe but it is not entirely my fault. I am sure that she has plenty of reason to blame herself and using me as a scapegoat is a very pathetic excuse for a rotten attitude in my opinion. The truth is that Judy was stupid. I do not remember every talking to Joe so I think she is stretching her cards way too thin because mostly she has only herself to blame, probably.

Seventeen

I remember that during my senior year in high school one of the missionary wives, Vickie Smeya, gave me a copy of Seventeen magazine but with some pages torn out so that my tender adolescent eyes would not be corrupted by something. Well, that was weird. How stupid do these people think I am anyway? Are you calling me an ignoramus? Obviously, all I had to do one day while in the school library and looking at Seventeen magazine there, all complete with all the pictures and nothing cut out, was to look at that particular issue and flip through the pages to see that it was an article about Linda from "The Exorcist," a movie that I never saw anyway nor did I read the article, just flipped by and saw that it was not anything that I would want to read anyway, thanks anyway. There were people in my high school who did see that movie but I was not one of them, nor is there any reason why I should have to explain this minor detail of my complicated life to some stupid witch ranting and screaming on the other end of the phone, thanks anyway.

Italians

The question for today is whether Italians are really black people pretending to be white or white people pretending to be black. The same might be said of all brown people. Italians and Spaniards all look almost the same to us white people and they all speak a Latin-based language with some variations. So we don't really notice the Italians in the crowd but they know who they are. Take for example these Alfaros. Are they Spanish or Italian?
Spanish: Habitational name from a place in Logroño province named Alfaro, apparently from Arabic al ‘the’ + Old Spanish faro ‘beacon’, ‘lighthouse.
Italian: First found in Calabria, a territorial district of Italy. Ancient Calabria was in Lecce. Modern Calabria is in the southern extremity of Italy coasting the straits of Messina. Reggio and Messina are the cities of note. This beautiful region produces wine, olive oil and fruit. Reggio was heavily bombed during WWII because of its strategical link with Sicily. In those ancient times only persons of rank, the pedestal, clergy, city officials, army officers, artists, landowners were entered into the records. To be recorded at this time, at the beginning of recorded history, was of itself a great distinction and indicative of noble ancestry.

So from this information we can imagine that perhaps somehow, someway, our high school classmates Carmen Alfaro and Joanne Calabrese might be distant cousins of some sort given their ancient roots in Italy's Calabria district, sort of, maybe. Also, we see that these Italians all think that they are descended from ancient nobility, making their blood somehow of higher caliber than us plain folks, which explains why these people imagine themselves the stars of the show in Boccaccio's "Decameron," isolated as they are in the villas of Florence.

The Vicious Crouch Clan

Yes, we cannot have anyone imagining that the putrid Crouch family is in any way related or connected to us. Look at those greedy Crouch dogs just salivating at the ring of coins clanking, dollar bills flowing into their enormous coffers already bulging to the bursting point with the spoils of North America. Why do Paul and Jan not commit to paying off the national debt with their charge accounts. Certainly they probably could so they should, right? TV is nice but Jesus is the only thing that matters to me. I really do not care who runs the show. Anyone will do as long as Jesus is glorified and not the greedy Crouch clan.

Thieving Jan

I wonder when someone will finally put a plug to the mouth of thieving lying trashy lowlife Jan Crouch and her brood of whiny selfish greedy TV trash? In a million years I am not going to sign over my inheritance to that bitchy old shrew. There she is on TV yapping like a magpie, surrounded in furs and luxuries in her multi-million dollar mega mansion while expecting me to live in a dirt floor hovel and shovel dirt so that she can continue to fuel her Lear jet crisscrossing the continent on a daily basis. I have no jet engine in my garage so cannot hope to compete with that level of wealth and affluence. Still, I am not planning to sign over to the TBN trash everything that my grandfather worked so hard for, as if she were related to us and as if there were anything that I did to deserve salvation given that I am a born sinner anyway. Someone really needs to send a clear signal to Paul and Jan to get their cotton pickin' butts out of our personal lives. We cannot afford to wait while they amass their personal fortune and bleed us dry. You cannot get blood out of a turnip. Sorry, but it just does not work that way. Get lost, wicked Jan. Goodbye Jan! Get your disgusting butt out of my life Jan! Just being acquainted with my distant relatives, having met them over tea and cookies at the Mother Nile movie screening, does not qualify you as related to me. Sorry but no cigars allowed.

Birthmark

Vocabulary lesson for today
Luna: moon
Lunar: birthmark

That was so weird. Ok, so I have a birthmark on my arm. So? Like, who cares? Are you telling me that you are crazy? Having a birthmark on my arm does not make me some freak of nature so I know I am not the one who is crazy here. Lots of people have birthmarks in various places and it is no big deal. Mine just looks like a giant freckle. It is just that my other freckles on my arm are so small in comparison and not really near the birthmark so it sort of stands out. Like, what is that supposed to mean other than you are a superstitious pagan psycho? Like am I supposed to be impressed with your stupid nonsense? It would not be so hard to ignore you if no one took you seriously which they really shouldn't because you are not worth it.

Missionary Career

Of course, the missionary career is not what it used to be. In the old days you just went overseas and never really came back or if you did come back it was forty years later and you were venerated and held in awe by the supporters who financed your many years overseas starting churches and training workers, etc. Nowadays, missionaries get no respect. You could end up like Joe Register, a salesman in a furniture store. Well, that is a different story than ours, mostly. But the Registers just could not continue in the missionary world after producing one lousy film every three or four years, not nearly enough to justify tens of thousands of dollars spent on buildings, expensive television and video equipment, soundstage, props and puppets, etc. A sad story, to be sure, but not really surprising given that Joe's daughter Christie was in charge of it all, Christie being sort of funny at puppeteering but not really. Sometimes these comedians are more angry than funny and in fact not really that funny, just weird. But that is what happens when the Registers will not let anyone else run the studio. They just shut the whole thing down.