1. Losing in the Volusia County Spelling Bee in the 2nd grade - I can’t remember what word I screwed up, but I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do compasses or King Solomon. Also, my mother tells me that 2 of the 3 judges were women and I don’t think the Masons had such an enlightened view of the world back then.
2. My pants falling down at a Valentine’s Day presentation that our parents were invited to in the 6th grade – As embarrassing as it may have been, I’m pretty sure credit for this assassination attempt on my good name lies on none other than myself for opting to not wear a belt during a silly recital type thing. The only private ceremony involved was the sobbing that took place immediately afterwards in the boy’s room.
3. Crashing my car into an I-4 on-ramp’s guard rail in 11th grade – A number of things led up to this event; hell, some people reading this were probably witnesses to the majority of them. Among them were bald tires, torrential rains, oil slick roads from a dry spell, a car load of people pumped on visiting DIY Records, and my unwillingness to pass up a yellow light. If this was a plot to carry out a murder, then the New World Order has my vote for “Most Organized, Secretive, Yet Ultimately Unsuccessful Organization of the Past 26 Years”. Even with a station wagon, it didn’t even dent the guard rail!
4. My employment at Pizza Stop – OK, this place was a mess of retarded stuff that made absolutely no sense and lots of requests for me to do things that were seemingly intended to cover up prior misdeeds, but none of it would be categorized as “ritualistic”. In fact, calling any of it a conspiracy would be giving far too much credit to what, in reality, is merely a crazed Italian gentleman.
5. The one time I was looking in the dumpster behind the Christian bookstore in Deland and a lady thought I was homeless – So I didn’t want to eat at the Jamaican restaurant and all my friends did…what was I supposed to do? I took a walk, figured I’d check out the dumpster behind the Christian Bookstore in hopes of maybe finding a broken Jesus statue or something. This lady asked me if I was homeless and told me I wouldn’t find any money or anything to eat in that trash. Then she asked if I needed any money…to which I responded with “yeah”, as the correct answer to such a question is always yes even if you don’t really need any money. Bafflingly she then declines to give me any money and leaves. Feeling defeated, I went back to the Jamaican joint and hung out until everyone was done eating, no money, no Jesus toys. So what’s the point of that story? I’m pretty sure a Free Mason, being an elite member of society, would have recruited me on the spot. Dignity and tact were displayed in full force, but this lady obviously had no grasp of high society. Plus a Mason probably could have coughed up a buck.
Everything else has been, thus far, either a direct result of the Masonic underworld’s actions, or at least inconclusive.
Tags: From the Mouths, I Don't Mind, I'm Going Hungry, of Decadence, Stealing Bread
