Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Wednesday

(Even Freddie Mercury thinks I'm a fag.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady prepared beef and French fries for dinner.  The meal was OK.  Certainly nothing to write home about.  But I didn't complain.  I just smiled and ate my vittles.  I'm wonderful that way.  The glass is always half-full when you step into my world.

I promised my eldest son James-uh that I'd give him back his computer on Saturdays if he picked up his grades.  He responded by scoring a B+ on his Algebra midterm.  I'm happy and angry at the same time.  I frequently have to bribe the little bastard to get positive results.  Yet at least he's not as slow as me.  Good for him.

I watched another episode of Reign.  I know.  You don't have to tell me.  Even Freddie Mercury thinks I'm a fag.  But I can't help myself.  The series is addictive.  The French King has just lost his mind.  He's now killing all his lovers.  He throws one out a window and strangles another.  Mary is afraid for her life.  The poor girl is always in danger.  Unfortunately, we know how the story concludes.  She eventually gets decapitated by her half-sister Elizabeth.  The end.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  It's not like I'm some filthy pagan bowing to a golden calf.  I asked Jesus to kill me in a painless fashion when I'm seventy-five years old.  I doubt if he'll listen.  But it couldn't hurt to try.

I went to sleep at 10 p.m.  I had a strange nightmare.  A young white girl asked me to describe the color yellow.  I pulled down my pants and showed her the piss stains on my underwear.  Try to figure that one out.  Even my demons have demons.

I woke up at six a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Manchester United fired David Moyes after the squad failed to qualify for Champions League.  The EPL is highly competetive this year.  I'm shocked that Liverpool won the title.

I turned on Fox News.  The Five discussed global warming.  I'm a skeptic regarding climate change.  When I was a kid, I kept hearing about the upcoming ice age.  Now we're all going to burn.  The scientists need to make up their minds.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's The KKK Took My Baby Away by The Ramones.  God bless.

Monday, April 21, 2014

Monday

Yesterday, I walked five miles to church.  No big deal.  I really need the exercise.  Why?  My youngest son in six-years-old, so I have to stay alive and fit until I'm seventy.  Then I'm free to die of ass cancer. 

But shed no tears, my dearest friends.  I have great health insurance.  Plus I plan on mixing the morphine with copious amounts of alcohol.  Poor old Smith won't be feeling any pain as he sheds his mortal coil.

The service was great.  We sang and danced for ten minutes.  One of our members is from Nigeria.  He got on his knees and howled like a banshee while the praise team performed the hymns.  His antics used to scare my children.  After all, their own father is white, conservative, and uptight.  Thankfully, they've grown used to the multicultural Sunday hubbub.

I walked back to my Soviet-style concrete tenement.  I helped James-uh study for his math exam.  I'm a terrible teacher.  I grabbed the poor boy by his shirt and threatened to pop him in the mouth.  Algebra makes him so lethargic.  I feel as if I'm trying to educate an opossum hanging from an oak tree.  Talk about frustrating. 

Yet I want to make one thing clear.  I never spank my children.  I don't believe that corporal punishment is an effective method of discipline.  Instead, I scream the f-word at the top of my lungs and punch and kick the walls.  That's much better.  I might even win an award as father of the year.

I downloaded a new series called Fargo.  It features Billy Bob Thorton as a hit man operating out of Minnesota.  The first episode is fantastic.  One of the characters kills his wife with a hammer.  However, the murder is filmed so strangely that it almost feels like a fantasy scene.  Fargo is special.  You'd be crazy not to give it a try.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I refuse to babble like a pagan.  I asked Jesus to stop me from bitching at my eldest boy so much.  But--in my defense--James-uh is a handful.  And I can't sit back and watch him fail.

I went to sleep at 10 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Bernard Hopkins won another boxing championship.  He's 49-years-old.  Some people are blessed with great genes.  Unfortunately, I'm not one of them.

I turned on Fox News.  Things are going from bad to worse in the Ukraine.  Russian separatists are causing an ass-load of trouble.  But I don't know what Obama is supposed to do about it.  The whole mess is a European problem.  Let them deal with it.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Field of Stone by David Allen Coe.  God bless. 

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Saturday

(Ryu Hyun-Jin is tearing it up.)

Yesterday, I took my oldest son James-uh to McDonald's for dinner.  We both had Big Macs and French fries.  I love junk food.  The more calories the better.  After all, something's going to kill me.  Might as well leave the world fat and happy.  I washed the vittles down with a large glass of Coke.  Sugary soft drinks make my heart sing with joy.

We went to a Good Friday service at one of the local churches.  While standing next to my boy, I noticed something disturbing.  The kid absolutely reeked.  In fact, he smelled so bad that my stomach started churning.  I politely let him know that he needs to take a shower every day.  Why force the innocent to smell his pungent scent?  Humanity deserves better than that.

I watched a couple episodes of The Following.  One of Joe's crazy acolytes kills a woman in a restaurant by shooting her with a spear gun.  The projectile penetrates the poor victim's body, literally pinning her to the booth and knocking over her morning bowl of cornflakes. 

Great stuff.  I love violent bloody television.  The gore reminds me that life on earth isn't permanent.  I'll be dead soon.  My money's still on ass cancer.  But a heart attack or stroke certainly isn't out of the question.  Nobody knows the future.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  It's not like I'm some dirty pagan.  I asked Jesus to let my son and his mother establish a better relationship.  They're always tearing each other to shreds.  Their mutual antagonism leaves me baffled.

I went to sleep at 11 p.m.  I had a strange nightmare.  I dropped my trousers in front of a group of complete strangers.  Unfortunately, my underwear contained several dark skid-marks.  Everybody laughed at me.

I woke up at 7 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Ryu Hyun-Jin is a Korean who pitches for the Los Angeles Dodgers.  He's having a great season.  The peninsula is excited that one of their citizens is doing so well on such a large stage.  Good for him.

I turned on Fox News.  O'Reilly complained about atheists.  He believes they're becoming too rude and aggressive.  Bill is full of shit.  He talks much garbage in order to sell books.  But he is entertaining.  I've got to give him that.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Say It So by Weezer.  God bless. 

Friday, April 18, 2014

Friday

(Bates Motel is a ton of fun.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady came home late.  So I prepared spicy pork and white rice for the family.  Poor old Smith is an outstanding cook.  My skills are quite formidable.  I washed the vittles down with several glasses of Coke.  I'm a big fan of carbonated beverages.  They bring great joy to my mundane life.

James-uh scored a sixty percent on his most recent math test.  We spent ninety minutes studying algebra.  He has a huge exam coming up on Monday.  We're going to hit the books all weekend.  I don't yell at him too much.  Neither of us is very bright.  We're just a couple of dolphins who ocassionally perform tricks for free fish.

I downloaded Bates Motel.  I enjoy the program very much.  Norman is starting to black out and take on his mother's persona.  It's a ton of fun to watch a teenage boy bitch and complain like a 40-year-old woman.  Do yourself a favor and check out this series.  You'll love it.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  After all, I'm not some filthy atheist.  Today marks Good Friday.  Jesus came to earth to suffer and empathize with his creation.  I couldn't ask for a better boss.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I had another nightmare about high school.  Ted Nugent came to visit the students.  I had to bring cages filled with chickens to the gymnasium so that he could feed his band.  My demons have demons.

I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  The Yankees are on a winning streak.  One of their top players is a newly aquired pitcher from Japan.  I used to support the Red Sox.  But I've decided to jump ship and go over to the darkside.  I'm hoping for a subway series.

I turned on Fox News.  The Five called Obama a giant pussy.  I simply don't agree.  He's the scourge of Islam.  I've never seen a single man send so many Muslims to an early grave.  He's even willing to grease American citizens without the benefit of due process.  Obama is a cold-blooded killer.  If I saw him walking down the street, I'd run in the opposite direction.  He scares me.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's You Just Keep Me Hanging On by Vanilla Fudge.  God bless.

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Thursday

(Even Charles Nelson Reilly thinks I'm a fag.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady went to E-mart.  She brought a pizza back to our humble abode.  It tasted great.  I'm a big fan of junk food.  The more calories, the better.  I washed my vittles down with several glasses of Coke.  Sugary soft drinks give me great pleasure.  In fact, I plan to die while sucking on a carbonated beverage.

Our new puppy made a lot of noise.  We're trying to train her to shit on a scented mat.  Sometimes, she manages to do quite well.  However, she left a couple of landmines on our livingroom floor, so I put her in a cage.  I'm just not an animal person.  Life's tough enough with kids.

I watched another episode of Reign.  I know.  You don't have to say a word.  Even Charles Nelson Reilly thinks I'm a fag.  But I can't help myself.  I'm hooked.  Mary has just broken off her engagement with Sebastian, the French king's handsome bastard.  And now her romantic focus has been drawn back toward Francis, the legitimate prince and heir.  Mary really enjoys the company of pretty young men.  She's a pistol.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I refuse to babble like a godless pagan.  Once again, I asked Jesus for the gift of patience.  Trust me.  I could use some peace in my life.  I'm angrier than Judge Judy.

I went to bed at ten p.m.  I had a nightmare about going home in a big yellow school bus.  Strange.  I'm 45-years-old.  But I often dream about my youth.  I don't know why.  My teenage years weren't very eventful.

I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  There was a terrible ferry accident off the southern coast of Korea.  The boat capsized while carrying high school students to a popular island resort.  Nearly three hundred people--most of whom were teenagers--are now very much dead.

I turned on Fox News.  The Five discussed  the Affordable Healthcare Act yet again.  It's their favorite topic.  I'm not a big fan of Obamacare.  All it does is encourage an incestuous relationship between the government and private business.  Big Insurance and Big Pharma are licking their lips.  They've just been backstopped by the American taxpayer.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Stormbringer by Deep Purple.  God bless. 

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Wednesday

(My retarded son is driving me toward ritual suicide.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady worked late.  So I had to make dinner for the family.  I prepared spicy pork and white rice.  The meal was fantastic.  My culinary skills are becoming more and more advanced.  I washed the vittles down with several glasses of Coke.  I'm a maniac when it comes to sugary soft drinks.  I simply can't get enough.

I fear my eldest son James-uh could very well be retarded.  He failed his latest math test with a score of 55 percent.  Talk about disappointing.  Last night, we studied basic algebraic equations together for nearly five hours.  It was a real angry father and son bitch-fest.  On several occasions, I had the urge to snap his neck. 

Why so long?  He has a test today, and the little bastard was woefully unprepared.  He never opens his book.  James-uh is ranked the lowest in his entire class.  His poor grades are filling me with a sense of shame.  If the problems persist, I might be forced to cut my belly open like a war-weary Japanese soldier.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  After all, I'm not some filthy nihilist.  I begged Jesus to grant me the gift of patience.  Stress is killing me.

I went to bed at midnight.  I had a dream about being in a boat with my dead father.  We drove through a narrow bayou going full-throttle.  The bayou eventually led us into the Gulf of Mexico.  After that, we crashed and drowned.  The end.

I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  The Indiana Pacers are the top seed in the Eastern Conference.  It makes no matter.  The team went flat at the wrong time of year.  Miami will kick Pacer ass once again.

I turned on Fox News.  The Five talked about tax day.  They bemoaned the fact that poor people aren't required to give their money to the federal government.  The rich often demonize those of modest means.  By blaming poverty on laziness rather than greed, they get to sleep better at night.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Roll Me Away by Bob Segar.  God bless.   

Monday, April 14, 2014

Monday

(Manny Pacquiao is still kicking ass at age 35.)

On Saturday night, I sauntered into town and got steaming drunk.  I can't even remember how I arrived home.  I'm assuming that I walked.  I didn't spend a lot of money.  Maybe forty dollars at the most.  I drank the cheapest draft beer on the menu.

That's the problem with me and alcohol.  I  have Keith Moon disease.  Once I start, I refuse to stop.  And my behavior--although never violent--can become a bit outrageous.  My social skills are severely lacking.  I've had my ass kicked several times while intoxicated.  I don't know how to keep my mouth shut.

I woke up at 8 a.m. on Sunday morning.  The Dragon Lady was pissed.  Our humble abode was covered in my vomit.  I was too hungover to clean.  So she went to work with a rag and some soapy water.  That woman is spotless.  You could eat off our floors.

I was too sick to go to church.  I spent the entire day relaxing in bed.  I also downloaded the Manny Pacquiao bout.  Manny beat Tim Bradley quite easily.  But you've got to hand it to Bradley.  He's a tough hombre.  He wasn't hurt on one single occasion.  Manny's just too fast for most guys to handle.

I watched Game of Thrones.  There was a great fight scene featuring The Dog.  He killed five men with his huge sword.  Lots of violence and gore.  That's how Smith prefers his television.  Nice and bloody.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  It's not like I'm some filthy atheist.  

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I had a nightmare about my father.  He was too drunk to drive home from work.  So he spent the night in his truck.  He slept peacefully in the cab.  But I kept tapping on the window to get his attention.

I woke up at six a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Koreans are up in arms about the deaths of two children who were repeatedly beaten by their stepmothers.  The government is being petitioned to strengthen the current child abuse laws.

I turned on Fox News.  Three people were murdered at a Jewish Community Center in Kansas City.  The culprit shouted Heil Hitler before pulling the trigger of his handgun.  The crazy coot is 70-years-old.  Go figure.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Ashes to Ashes by David Bowie.  God bless.