So yesterday I heard a low banging on our front door. I wasn’t afraid as my daddy and I were just about to leave for whatever, because I forgot now.
So I opened the three lights – foyer, front porch and floodlights and opened the front door. I was being polite as the tall whitish JW spook was sharing Scriptural passages.
So as their usual protocol they would share their ‘tract’ which is similar to the word railroad track or a flimsy booklet titled: Would You Like To Know The Truth?
After taking his piece of paper, flipping through the four pages, and with the black iron-grilled door slightly ajar, he asked me something along the line of what point interest me.
Now I’ve been doing my ‘homework’ which is viewing YouTube videos. And after clicking the multiple pages to that Yahweh’s Sword website, saving and deleting webpages due to the elements overlapping just the first page, these spooks visited us and dare ask unto evil kitty questions.
So I answer, Life. Living. Live, which I mis-pronounced as eye and NOT eve. He shared the 3:16 and I agreed that God’s Son was sacrificed. He then shared something else that I blurted out that I didn’t understand, though I did see the word illumination.
After he asked if I knew what that mean, I said that they are allowed to exercise their selfishness and ego, because the Living God with a snap of his fingers can do the opposite of his purpose.
After he read that unknown passage a second time, he asked if he can come back to share who is behind that passage containing the word which I saw as illumination.
But I said you’d have to ask my daddy, who then asked the spook what is their religion, upon which the spook replied, Jehovah Witness. I corrected the spook and said shouldn’t that be Yahwah. He replied that is true. My god, WTF are y’all testing the Lawd Gawd?
When he and the purple-shirted, dark-skinned SAI guy who served as a diversity tool (much like the swollen, gout-filled laden church choir leader whom I caught her words saying CRAZY aloud upon my descent from the back of the choir box with my daddy at her intersection, who is using my minority status to fill their city choir gig), they left without saying a word of blessings from JC or the Lawd Gawd. I tried to say God Bless y’all but they were already walking away fast and paused at the base of our driveway looking around like thugs for their next victims.
While they stood like thugs, I said aloud through the closed iron-grilled gate that the xxxx (four-digit home number) of Respondent has two RO and that they can minister to that koo-koo head.
Honestly folks, y’all are driving up my patience to have the Lawd Gawd snap his fingers. With the Land Title Issues In The Philippines and my incoming thoughts on or about 1510 while washing our dishes for a late lunch, my usual suspect is that my maternal cousin wants to own property so that she could get a VISA for Australian residency or something like that.
She is so smart that she can carry on a conversation at our expense via her husband’s cellphone and via Facebook, which I reactivated for the fifth or sixth time already! She already has different talents and is going to class.
So my daddy, being elderly, wanted to give the stuff to her. But I do NOT feel comfortable with the transaction of my father’s signature to her and some strangers, though I know they can make stuff happen without our presence or the need of going through lawyers properly.
So whatever is gonna happen, with the next door neighbor’s landslide hitting the property, the owner not responding to the safety issue, the structure already having pieces of concrete flaking off after two years of being build in 2003, and the stories of strangers banging on the property and wanting to gain entry to take photos inside MY bluish bungalow located on “Real Street Interior”, of my cousin being threatened and whatever, I don’t care.
If land title is supposed to pass through the hands of the males, I’m gonna defer decision-making to my daddy since he is listed as as a surviving spouse for fourth degree of inheritance, with my younger brother and I as primary degree, since we have something from the accessor.
Welp, I don’t know how this is gonna work out, or if we all need to be present to sign papers or if a holographic will is possible or if a Filipino attorney located in San Francisco can assist. I’ve yet to call that office branch main number and schedule an appointment.
The funny thing about these damned Asians and other disparate fools begging for stuff is the sense of urgency. I’ve experienced that urgency from the first group (which contains that fat bastard to whom I requested y’all to create a crystal gift), and of course y’all. So my status of going bankrupt would be a third time around with my freaking ungrateful maternal relatives whom I do NOT know too well and being TOO anti-social and paranoid, do NOT want to get to know them or too close either.
Stay away!
Sincerely,
Flynn B. My daddy and I will find out if we have any power to do anything with whatever pieces of papers that we may have on file. I may wish to have my maternal cousin forward whatever she has to that attorney for further review, investigation, and processing. Oh what fun! I knew that once I start working that hard-earned money will go away and my account will be back to zero!!! I’m NOT gonna let my daddy spend on me again just so I can connect with resentments and hurt feelings that he refuses to connect with his only son. Sigh. P.S. I got mad at my daddy that he HIDE from view and refused to acknowledge or greet my cousin and her husband two nights ago. But he learned to speak with her last night and greeting her husband. Sheesh.
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