(Messi schools Ronaldo...again.)
Yesterday, the Dragon Lady prepared beef and French fries for dinner. The meal was delicious. I'm a big fan of starch. I dipped my vittles in A-1 Steak Sauce. Then I washed it all down with several glasses of Coke. The whole experience was glorious.
I viewed Reign. It's a series meant to attract teenage girls. But poor old Smith is hooked. Perhaps I'm half-a-fag. Nothing would surprise me at this point in my life. Mary breaks off her engagement with the prince of France. Now the young queen is set to tie the knot with the French king's handsome bastard. His name is Sebastian.
I paid homage to Christ. I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees. No big surprise. I refuse to babble like a pagan.
I went to bed at 10 p.m. I had a strange nightmare about being in the Marine Corps. I can't remember the details. I just know that I wasn't very popular with the men. I spent most of the dream running for my life.
I woke up at six a.m. and drank several cups of coffee. Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break. Barcelona defeated Real Madrid in a tense nail-biter. Lionel Messi scored a hat-trick to seal the match 4 to 3. Messi is a perpetual thorn in the side of Ronaldo. Their rivalry is the stuff of legend.
I turned on Fox News. The Five are skeptical about the fate of Malaysian Flight 370. They don't believe that the plane is at the bottom of the Indian Ocean. Greg Gutfeld kept rambling on about American exceptionalism. The man's a boob.
Trust me. That plane is lying in pieces on the ocean floor. Furthermore, the bodies of the victims shall never be recovered. Those sad unfortunate bastards are nothing but lifeless fish food. Oh, well. At least they didn't die of ass cancer.
Anyway, it's time for the song du jour. Here's Self Portrait by Rainbow. God bless.