To Clem our fearless leader with the horse teeth,

While assisting Mom in preparing the ingredients and cooking two recipes for Dad’s freshly harvested chayote squash and while the parakeets were enjoying a brief outdoor experience with fresh air, I had a thought of thanks and gratitude.

I like my new tenor part at the the fourth pew next to the the invisible tenor who never seems to show up for choir rehearsal due to his night shift at work. And as per my FYI only IMHO text message sent to you, there isn’t really enough ‘commitment’ from musical talent in and around our neighborhood, who’d volunteer in our gig.

And I do NOT appreciate these Filipinos, or anyone else, who cannot read music! It just makes everything more difficult for everyone. They have too much arrogance and pride, and have no shame whatsoever! They don’t learn fast enough from someone with more experience and dedication in music history and practices than these fools. I’m sorry. It’s true. But I also discovered my goofs laster on that Thursday night when you repeated stuff intended for me to focus on. I’m slow.

And as I further mentioned, the sound impact isn’t enough when I’m supporting someone, who obviously seems uncomfortable with my presence, considering that old timers are VERY sensitive and territorial, espeically among the men, who don’t really like to hang around children, which is fine for most women, except me because I could only amuse myself at how I used to be once young, too.

I also appreciate you moving me away from the disturbances among those Filipino women. (I told Mom that the only ones that seem normal are Elizabeth and Marcel, with the lot of Asians, just filling in empty slots.) I am assuming that you’ve seem what has happened in the past outta the corners of your eyeballs, though your gaze is averted discretely and politely NOT directed at the intended targets. Are you a faggot because you blocked your eyeballs during the nagger’s sermon about morality last Sunday?

(Mom and I noticed that our physicians are VERY observant in their mannerisms – sideway glances – of any facial or bodily gestures and movement for notation as required by law for Medicare and pals. So among you professionals, Mom told me to ignore the complaints of these old farts, who are still faithful, yet troubled with problems, like Ruby A, who has muscular ticks, like her son, and Caroline M, the late coordinator. I already forgot what Glo S, NiNi R, BDC, and others said about you and your family and try to forgive these assholes for talking crank that does NOT me any good but place doubt in my heart. Ugh.)

Both incidences included rudeness by these troubled sinners, who on the surface appear friendly and normal, but can be tough like any mother. They would pass items between each other and in front of my face or directly underneath my nose! That’s why I don’t care if I ever have to leave that main choir, because I’m a noob trying to fit in as an ‘outsider’.

For example, Ising C has a bad habit of coming without her copies of music. (In our schooling days, that’s NOT good. We have to come prepared. It hurts my busted wrists from snowboarding accidents to hold up sheetmusics for them from my HEAVY tablets and my neck from craning to see the blurry notes with my failing eyesight, despite wearing my first bi-focal eyeglasses.) And a couple of times, she would pass stuff to Joy U with me wedged in between them.

The other example is when Amy V passed a black pen in the same manner – too close to my air space – and towards Ruby A (the mother of Jasmine’s boyfriend, or just a friend, whatever.) These four mothers would speak in their Filipino languages, talk about religious stuff, and smile as if nothing is bothering them. I’m NEVER gonna be a mother, do NOT speak or understand Filipino well, and do NOT care for religious activities. See? I don’t fit in.

So with that said, Mom said I wasn’t singing loud enough during masses at SVP and OLOP. But that’s because, for me at least, I do sound VERY loud while wearing my 24-processor hearing aides! So during masses, I’ll unhook the devices and y’all will be able to see the miniature, circular doors sticking out sideways from my ear canals. This is the ONLY way I could hear the volume of my voice and sing LOUDER. And then after masses during your announcements, I’ll close the bay doors and get to hear more gossip.


FLYNN B, the human to her Evil Kitty, the script writer.

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