Which Reminds Me

Yes, I too sometimes feel like I was somehow shot in the head by some high-falutin nasty Texas tea power brokers wielding high-powered weapons, whoever they may be. I certainly do not like or appreciate feeling like some sort of hunted prey, as if those Texas oil trash had any oil rights to claim me as their groveling slave dog. I would rather jump off a bridge than tolerate the oil company dogs screaming and yelling at me as if I were the maid. I might have voted for George in the past but the future is not so clear. Thus, if I took the money does that make me their wage slave? And who says they have to pay for oil development on land that is not theirs in the first place? Flip sides of a coin, obviously. I don't need some stupid Italian press dog to explain that minor point to me, thanks anyway. This country was great years ago but that was before those fanged Italian dogs had a chance to interpose their godfatherish stupidity into my every personal relationship. Now the future is not so clear. Probably our country will decline to the depths of a pathetically horrible Italy if things continue this way. After all, Italy's past is not something we would need to emulate when obviously we were doing so much better than that. But Italians want to drag us down to their level of stupid Italian so that they can be slave masters to us stupid white people. I don't like that picture, obviously.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it will be very difficult for underground tent-sewers like Mark and Linda to aspire to the church superintendency when there is no visible fruit of their ministry to be tasted by all, mostly just a lot of rotten apples being thrown around. I don't know what everyone else is thinking but I personally would not be interested in lending any assistance to them. Greg is pathetic. I should not have to listen to his nonsense. I don't know why I never saw that before.

The Tease

I so much hate teasers, as if their stupid Party were anything but a gathering of groveling dummies and wannabe uppety-ups, as if that were anything that mattered in the whole scheme of things.

Which Reminds Me

Perhaps I should ask what I am expected to do with a boatload of 19th century drivel spewed by mostly clueless bimbos whose acquaintance I do not treasure. This is of no benefit to me. These snooty rich billionaire people expect me to work full-time for nothing digging up all of their dirt, as if I ever knew anything about it.

I am also reminded of the day in 10th grade English class when Joan Calabrese made some sort of snarky comment about how regrettable it was that Richard Nixon was reelected (1972). The Watergate hearings were at that time in full swing in D.C. I replied that, well, actually my parents voted for Nixon. Joan said, "Oh!" and then snootily turned away in her haughty arrogant way, as if this revelation only confirmed the stupidity of my existence.

Uh, thanks?

And if the person whose name graced my passport were to later get involved in burglarizing Democratic Party headquarters, would I be complicit in their crime by virtue of passport identification? I think not. I think I would be needlessly torturing myself and taking on way too much baggage if I were to ask such useless questions and engage in such irrelevant dialogue with persons who would only be using me for their own political purposes. Watergate does not concern me in a personal way. I am sure that some Republican Party people are deeply affected but I am not them. I respect their silence but they also need to respect mine. I am not even aware of how connected my relatives might be to that party machinery because I was not there and, anyway, they never tell me anything.

Which Reminds Me

One day at college at SCC we were walking out of the classroom and Terry Cederblom was calling me his "red heifer." I was immediately insulted by that comment. What is that supposed to mean, that I am Terry's cow? I think not. Probably they will be sorry later that they messed with me but, anyway, it is really not my place to wreak vengeance. Vengeance belongs to the Lord, as the Bible says.

Which Reminds Me

I do not recall making any athletic claims. Someone did ask how high I can kick and, actually, you might be surprised how high that would be. That is the only thing I can remember along those lines. However, I always mostly hated athletics generally speaking. It was complicated. Enough said.

Speaking of Alaska

Yes, truth be told, nobody ever really cared that much about the opinions of chatterbox Dawn. She always talks incessantly in a nice if snarky way about all of the pranks that she and her brother continuously pulled behind the back of poor Miss Nafsker, the MK schoolteacher who was living at their house. That is about as deep as it gets. But I have told this story before and there is nothing else to add to that. I cannot imagine what reports she might have delivered to the dummies' class people because we never really had any high school classes together, only met at maybe recess. Anyway, I never interviewed the three blond dummies — Gwen Juneau, Kelly Elliott, and Janice Barton — so I really wouldn't know. Just being blond does not mean that you are any more worthy of American citizenship than I am. I am just as much a part of the American people as any Canadian Dawn-come-lately so there is nothing else to say about the disgustingly trashy Sawords. I am sick and tired of hearing about Wicked Witch Dawn, in addition to some other witches, so don't be surprised if I slam the door in Kelly-Gwen-Janice's Wicked Witch face, or whoever it is. I am sick and tired of hearing from the Wicked Witch dogs of high school, as if I ever cared about their pathetically horrible lives.