Which Reminds Me

Someone was telling me to come out, but I don't understand what that means. I cannot spend that much time outdoors with this complexion of mine living here. I would be sunburned to a crisp, which actually has happened before if I spend too much time under the sun. So obviously I cannot go out to where you are when, anyway, experience has already taught me that you are profoundly retarded and will automatically not understand even one thing that I ever said. Goodbye.

And what a shamefaced liar is this Mr. Warren who sits there in his plush palace supposedly claiming to be paying for this, the curses pronounced against poor little me. What a liar. I have not received one penny, not even any benefit, from this hifalutin back-hacking service that he promotes so highly. Just makes me wonder what they are even talking about. But then again I remember that I don't care. If I never see those cousins again in this lifetime, well, experience has taught me they don't have anything that I want anyway.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, what was that guy's name? I don't even remember his name. I don't know why the name of Greg Londot comes to mind. I don't remember one thing about Greg and do not recall him ever saying hello to me so obviously just making arrangements with someone else behind my back because you were hanging out with those guys is not going to accomplish anything or impress anyone. I feel myself completely indifferent to the existence of Greg, whether or not he is the basketball type, I really don't care, just because he has a Frenchy sounding name. I actually find it rather annoying to find myself targeted by creepy French people, as if I should care. We already have enough French, we don't need more of the same boring Frenchy stuff. After all, Mr. French was only the butler, in case you forgot.

Which Reminds Me

Maybe you could stand in the center of the gymnasium door, posing just so, and give me another chance to say that I think that you are an annoying geeky nerd. Well, I did not use so many words the first time around. I only said that I was not interested. Anyway, I didn't ask for that. You are the one who asked for it. And given that the whole thing was staged in cooperation with Cori, the roommate from hell, there is no telling how that information might have been presented on the other end of the grapevine. She can't be trusted for anything. Just because you are a friend of Cori, that does not mean that anyone else likes you.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I suppose that it is not my place to say when President Kraiss' dead body is finally buried and gone and we can finally get on with the real business of expelling this vulgar Larry Schmuck. Not that I would know anything about that. You are the ones who were calling me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, someone is telling me that the pranksters have bound themselves to an oath of secrecy wherein their honor is bound to not talking or saying anything that might betray themselves and their fellow pranksters to the authorities. Somehow they think that they can throw the entire campus into an uproar and yet get away with protective secrecy. I was not invited to participate in the prank, thus it becomes my duty somehow to explain them to the authorities even though they never really told me very much, only something about that particularly offensive motto was Mary's, whatever that meant. So obviously they know more than they are telling me. I don't even remember the mottoes on the windshields, just silly things like "Get it Cheap" or "This one is a Lemon." That type of thing was what I saw, but of course I did not see everything.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, the word "like" might be somewhat too strong to describe a politician, even one that I voted for as opposed to the alternative. It is better not to think too much about all that icky stuff these politicians have squirreled away somewhere in their personal lives. If I met them in person I might not "like" him or them at all. It is just an either-or decision, one less candidate being possibly being better or rather less terrible than another, not that any of them would ever be of any benefit to me in any kind of personal way, not that we can ever really know for sure. It was just a fleeting, temporary impression at the time of going to the ballot box, nothing personal. Who did I mention that to? Anyway, since when is my voting record any of your business?

Which Reminds Me

As I said, Beverly's in-laws are not my in-laws. But saying so does not constitute me a clone of Ann Kraiss, who was one of Larry Kraiss' cousins who attended our college for one year. They roomed together, living down the hall on the 7th floor. Beverly and Ann did not return after one year so they only remember one year's worth of stuff, not really anything that came after or what became of everybody later. Beverly and Ann perhaps continue to obsess on events of that year and persons long forgotten. After one year, Beverly and Ann returned to Illinois, the Chicago area perhaps, and did not return. I really don't remember very much about them. As I said, they were gone after one year so there is not much to say about them. Yes, I can sort of imagine that someone might say that Ann sort of resembled a witch with her dyed jet-black hair and penciled black eyebrows. Or maybe not. I really don't remember them anymore. Amazing how a supposedly high-class college president could have such trashy low-class cousins, someone is trying to say. Ummm, no comment. As I said, I really don't remember much about them. And this amazing obsession on the subject of Barbara Kraiss, a rather prickly person who was getting her college degree in the same college of which her husband was president, her son also her college classmate, thus we don't want to run afoul of her accidentally because she can go right to the top to make our lives miserable, even if they don't have their paperwork in order. I never thought of the Kraiss family as personal friends of mine, just VIPs of the college variety.