(Matt Dillon still looks terrific.)
Yesterday, I took the family to McDonald's. I enjoyed a Big Mac and French fries while my kids ate Chicken McNuggets. I washed the meal down with a genuine glass of Coca-Cola. Talk about heaven. I'm a huge fan of junk food. I'll probably die soon. But what do I care? I could use the rest.
I watched a show called Wayward Pines. It stars Matt Dillon as a secret service agent who is trapped in a small town. The town is controlled by a sadistic sheriff. This perverted lawman--for some strange reason--loves ice cream. He's frequently chomping on cones and smacking his lips. Wayward Pines is a weird program. However, I'm starved for entertainment, so I'll see it through to the bitter end.
I paid homage to the Christ God. I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees. No big surprise. I'm not some filthy nihilist. I prayed for my wife. The woman's a complete loon. Her rage is insatiable. In fact, she often embarrasses the children because she simply can't stop screaming. I begged Jesus to cure her demons. Trust me. Poor Jesus has a lot on his plate. Yet I'm confident that he's up to the job.
I went to bed at 11 p.m. I dreamed about one of my old friends. He wanted me to go drinking with him. I told him no. The guy was very disappointed. He called me a sell-out to the man.
I woke up at 9 a.m. and turned on Fox News. I watched an autobiography on Black Bart. Bart hated Wells Fargo and spent a decade ripping off their wagons. Sadly, the bankers eventually caught the guy. He served nearly a decade in jail. Wells Fargo sucked giant ass even back then.
I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break. There are five new cases of MERS in Seoul. I'm terrified of viruses. I don't know why. After all, my future is sealed. It's my destiny to die of ass cancer. I can feel it in my bones.
Anyway, it's time for the song du jour. Here's Moving In Stereo by The Cars. God bless.