Which Reminds Me

Yes, I cannot have much of a life living in the shadows of the Evil Woman. She does a much better job of performing that role of Evil Woman, I cannot hold a candle to that casting choice. My paltry efforts at age 4 cannot truly compare to the really evil thing that she does. I really must step aside and not even try to imitate such a terrifying phenomenon of animal nature. To aspire to become a cheap imitation of a cheap imitation is not really an inspirational thing to do, not really that good. There is just no comparison possible. 

And yet I cannot claim to be quite the so-called Pentecostal lamb, slain in complete innocence. I am not worthy or deserving to even try to pretend that I never did anything wrong. So there is the conundrum of being caught in between the now and the not yet, as they saying says.      

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I think that the Wacky Weird Pirrmaniacs of New York district will be waiting a very long time for nothing to happen, because anyway I have no intention of going there. I do not understand what their problem is and I really do not appreciate them bothering me about nothing much. Yawn! 

Which Reminds Me

Yes, of course I know what the Great Commission is. Needless to say. The Great Commission is the whole reason for my being here, the sole reason why I am sitting here in high school study hall trying to concentrate on doing my homework, trying to block out all of these worthless distractions while my parents are working with the churches to do exactly that. I did have one convert at least, during the AIM team project that happened during my senior year of high school, so I am not entirely clueless about the purpose of the mission. I do understand that some other people just do not have a clue about the Great Ccommissions all their money emanates only from accessory or carnal sources of lesser interest, such as for example booze, so they just are not going to understand this point, useless to try to dialogue with such clueless booze whiners. They would make a mess of my head before I would ever have a chance to say anything.  

WHich Reminds Me

Yes, it is not very helpful to hear Kathy over there, sitting with her haughty arrogant cliquey friends, spitting poison in my direction. So what about that? Probably I could say something similar about Tinker dog. So what about that? 

Who is going to have my back covered, my expenses paid, while I would go in there to investigate, what do they want?   

Which Reminds Me

Yes, another of the various things I heard online was that Blondie thinks that, because her name is Dorothy, she can position herself to seize the crown of Oz from redhead. As if. To start with, who even knows what color Dorothy's hair was in the book as read, and also just because Judy Garland wore an auburn hair hairpiece for the movie role does not say very much, not really something to depend upon too much. Fiction is a fickle thing and later depends upon the particular notions of whoever is interpreting for the movie adaptation. And movie adaptations often vary widely from the original book. 

WHich Reminds Me

Yes, wouldn't that be nice if someone would put me on their payroll, only so that I could at least float effortlessly above the fray, and look haughtily down my nose upon these various annoying jokesters who never seem to get when it is time to stop talking about that and shut their stupid mouths. Would the FBI ever pay me to "Help" them? But it was Joan who wanted to work at the FBI. That wasn't my idea. 

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember, when I was 8 years old, we were living in Guadalajara, Mexico for one year, while my parents were attending language school, and during that time I met a few people who as it turns out never had any future role in my future life, because anyway we all went in a variety of direcdtions and our paths never again crossed, and there was no reason for me to apologize for that. Goodbye! 

Sort of weird that some strange guy who married horrible her, for which he has only himself to blame, not my problem, would be trying to attach me to his private life, as a sort of three-wheeled vehicle or similar Mormon-like schemata. I actually have no connection whatever to his Blackiestan house. I wash my hands of that. I have no idea why there would be anything more to say about that.