Which reminds me

While I was a reporter at the Haines City Herald covering the tiny town of Dundee I recall there was a controversy over the local creche which was displayed on public property owned by the town. The town received a letter from the ACLU requesting its removal. The other reporter Cherie Jacobs, who wrote for the bigger paper, the Lakeland Ledger, wrote a story which contained mainly the contents of the ACLU letter in addition to a description of the creche. My story, which appeared later, after the town meeting, included more of the comments of the mayor who expressed the town's defense of its opinion that there was no reason for them to remove the creche. I don't remember what happened later, if the town abandoned this idea of displaying the creche on public land or it was moved to private land or something. I really don't care that much personally. I was just doing my job. I only covered that town for a short town and, anyway, this is not an issue that will make or break my Christian beliefs. Whatever the decor may or may not be, Christmas is something I believe and know in the heart and is not dependent on the presence of these knick-knacks so beloved by simple-minded Catholics who don't seem to know any better. Christmas says something about what Christians believe in regards to the virgin birth of Jesus, an idea that is apparently not agreeable to Jewish people. They have no real understanding of Christmas, sad to say. More recently, it was disturbing to be receiving messages from this Cherie Jacobs or similar wicked witch sorceress, possibly even my own Wicked Witch Anita, who was saying that if I am putting all my faith in some object, that I will become myself just a baby doll of sorts, just a statue upon which other persons will project emotions and ideas of their choosing, myself not being anything but a piece of plastic, a reflector that they can use to accelerate their own particular personal agenda. I did not like hearing all of this garbage from trashy dog Stacy and her clueless sidekick Sue. I did not like not being able to control my life. I did not like my words falling into the air and dissipating like a tree that falls in the forest unheard, the sound waves bouncing back as if I were nothing but a transponder of sorts. I did not like this whole scenario with all of these people shoving my head in the sand. I did not like Green Eggs and Ham. I did not like you Sam I Am. So hopefully something of my message back to you will get out through the Internet even if I cannot really express these thought in polite society without getting cut off at the knees.

Which reminds me

The chocolate mousse was highly recommended whenever dining at The Monk's Cellar in Miami and it really was delicious. We all tried it and it was delicious. I had forgotten that point of truth. Yes, the chocolate mousse at The Monk's Cellar was very good. Perhaps Susie would remember that. As for the other contents of the cellar I really have no idea. We did not sample the rest of that so I really could not say what else was in there which is probably just as well. I really don't need that kind of baggage, thanks anyway.

My Personal Life

I remember telling someone that sometimes God tells me things. I might be in the shower washing my hair or looking out the window and wondering about things and God explains it to me somehow and so I am not very worried about things most of the time. Apparently this conversation got twisted around and someone was accusing me of consulting horoscopes and Ouija boards which is ridiculous. That never happened. Maybe you are thinking of Barbara Miller of Mississippi. I started reading the Bible through every year even in high school although I got away from that in college and resumed later. I got that idea because of something that Mrs. Richardson said and I do feel better when I am doing that. It is just a personal thing, not a fortune telling kind of thing. You must have me confused with that wicked sorceress from hell Anita.

Betterfields

Yes, I received a message from someone stating that Vanessa had married a very wealthy man of high class family and was thus ushered into the upper echelons of high society where she no longer has to worry about being related to a bus driver and can stomp all over us with impunity. This explains why we see Vanessa and the Butterfields sneering down at their former cousins from their lofty perches paid for by the decadent glitterati of Hollywood arrogance. I did not know that until someone delivered this punch in the face. I was not much aware of Vanessa's existence or location on the planet, I have to admit. Having received that kind of arrogant message from crude and vulgar bitch Vanessa, the Warrens should not be surprised if they never see hide nor hair of me in this lifetime. Is it any wonder that I never go there/ I could not care less about what kind of trashy dog dogs might be produced but such an utterly rude and pathetically stupid cousin as Vanessa, trained this way no doubt but one of my wicked witch aunts. I really should not say this but then again everyone is waiting for me to say this.

Last year my parents visited Vanessa in her Dallas home. My mom said that Vanessa's husband is a Calvary Chapel pastor and has seven or eight children. Oh, I did not know that. I really don't care.

Calvin Sightings

There was an open house nite in the SCC dorms every month or so and I remember telling someone that during one of those nights Calvin showed up in my room and was sitting there chatting and he said that I have beautiful feet. Ha ha ha! Calvin is glib, obviously. Yes, I cannot pretend to be even half as good a pianist as Calvin so there was no reason to imagine myself arguing with him on these points. Like Calvin was saying at another time, I just don't seem to have the speed that some other pianists have, especially himself. He certainly can clickety-clack all over the keyboard. I used to think that I would improve with practice but there comes a time when you realize that more practicing just isn't worth it. Nowadays I would really rather do anything else than practice the piano. The joy of it totally evaporated one day and never came back. So I really have nothing else to say about that. I just can't compete in the digital robotics department so why bother rying? I just don't care.

Memories

Which reminds me that while I was living in California, I once went with Becky to her parents' house where her family was having a party. So in addition to meeting her sister, I also met at least two of her brothers. One of her brothers had a girlfriend there who looked somewhat mousy and everyone was saying all kinds of mean things about her behind her back. Apparently they were only living together so the family viewed her as some kind of dog, not exactly human, as if the brother was not to blame in that situation. Ha! I never saw those people again after that one time and that was a good reason to brush off the advances of Becky's other brother, all Mexicans as I would not want to get stuck with that family one way or another.

Nordic Idiots

It is fortunate that we are here functioning as the guardians of society to keep these Nordic idiots in check. If it were not for our brilliant and logical Anglo minds, there is no telling what pathetically stupid wickedness these Nordic idiots would be perpetrating upon modern society. When we Anglos are removed from society and caught up into the sky to be with Jesus, these Nordic idiots will have nothing left to warn against the folly of handling snakes just because. If the snake got in your face and you had no choice that is one thing, but just to handle snakes as some type of circus attraction is not something that we would recommend. A sign will not be given to you.