Which Reminds Me

Someone was saying they are doing to kill the Oxford thing. The other Oxford is a town in Mississippi which the famous American author William Faulkner was from. I was never a huge fan of Faulkner's books. I was turned off by the dense and rambling verbosity so I was never a big fan of Faulkner. I am really not interested in discussing Faulkner. I will leave that those who specialize in Faulkner.

Which Reminds Me

I remember reading somewhere that the odds of me winning the lottery are so slim that I would more likely be eaten by a shark or struck by lightning. In fact, the odds for me are even worse than that because I never bought a lottery ticket. So why are you encouraging a fickle faith in lottery jackpots? I don't understand your sick logic.

Which Reminds Me

I forgot to ask. Who is this Kelly Cranford person that I should be aware of his existence? I was not until recently even aware of Uncle Winfred's family beyond the fact that he had two daughters. One assumes that they each got married and had families of their own but we never connected with them in any personal way so I really would not know anything about them.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am thinking that I would not pay two cents for Uncle Winfred's fracked out pile of rubble even if I had the money. I suppose that the crushed rock business has its financial benefits but I never got anything out of that, and anyway I really would not want the headache of trying to figure out what to do with all of that, notwithstanding my grandmother's historic note on file. It is an extremely damaged piece of land due to mining of the bedrock. How do you farm that with the topsoil gone? There was a plan to put a lake there with houses and buildings around it but that would be complicated and cost a lot of money to accomplish. And why bother? That heavy machinery package comes with a lot of shrill Cranford hags attached. I can think of better things to do than hang out with that bunch of pathetic whiners. So obviously I could not be trusted to publicly say anything nice about them, especially not now. Blah blah blah. Also there is a family cemetery attached which would require a lot of maintenance in perpetuity. I cannot imagine why anyone would want to help the Cranfords unload that pile of junk at any price but whatever. Anyway, they are not my problem now.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was saying that in the future there will be no more of these unholy English people serving as clergy and pastors. In the future all of the pastors will be more sanctimonious Spanish and Arabs and we English will have to humble ourselves and get it from them if we want to get saved. Otherwise we will can just go to hell, as someone was saying. Someone was saying that in the future sermons will be preached by foreigners with stupid accents in broken English, but then again the language will change and stupid accents will seem normal because no one who really knows English will have the authority to correct their stupid grammar and spelling mistakes.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was saying that "they" will be "killing" the Oxford England thing that started with C.S. Lewis. They think that anyone who has read C.S. Lewis books ends up gay, so if you read a book by C.S. Lewis or think of attending Oxford University, which actually would be a huge privilege I would think, "they" will kill you because you are probably gay. I think that there is something wrong with that logic, extending it way too far, but I really wouldn't know that much about it. Just because I did read some C.S. Lewis, which are very good in their own way, not that they are the whole tamale, not that I would know anything about whatever his personal problems were, that does not mean make me in any way "gay," worthy of being finished off by their "machine." In my opinion. There is something wrong with that thing but I really don't know very much about it or how to explain it.

Which Reminds Me

Why is that creepy fat man bellowing at us? He is not the governor of my life, not even close, so obviously there must be some mistake. It is very disturbing to us that all that these creepy rich people are pretending to know something about us, as if we would want to hear from Cecil's unidentified retainers. No, not really. And who would get Audrey's share? I have no clue. I really don't care. I already know that I only get my mother's tiny percentage so there is nothing of interest that those creepy rich people would have to say to me in addition to that, no reason for these continual nagging reminders about spending, no reason for them to be occupying my time with all of their nonsense. They are not my mother, obviously. So maybe you sold your souls to the Mata Hari Dutch but that is not my problem. I will probably outlive the creepy fat man anyway so your decision probably won't matter to me in the long run.