(Kim Davis remains in jail.)
Yesterday, I prepared fried chicken for dinner. The bird came out all salty and crisp and delicious. My boys raved about the flavor. They ate every last morsel on their plates. I'm nearly as talented as Colonel Sanders. I washed the meal down with two bottles of Jinro soju. The experience was heavenly.
The Dragon Lady came to the apartment to pick up Bluce. She bought James-uh a new pair of shoes and a sleeping bag. Then she tried to charge him $400. My wife knows that he has no money. She does this kind of shit to pick a fight. The woman's addicted to rage and chaos. It's probably some kind of chemical problem. I just keep hoping that the meds will finally kick in. What else can I do?
I paid homage to the Christ God. I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees. No big surprise. I'm not some filthy misanthrope. I thanked Jesus for all the gifts I've been given. I have two healthy sons. Plus I have plenty to eat. Things could be a lot worse. At least I'm not a Pygmy living in the jungles of Chad. That would truly suck ass.
I went to bed at 10 a.m. I had a strange dream. I was forced to go on a picnic with a bunch of strange Russian men. They kept asking me if I owned any firearms. I told them that I used to have a .357 Magnum that I kept for protection. They all laughed and applauded. They loved me.
I woke up at 6 a.m. and turned on my laptop. Kim Davis is still in jail. She's a clerk from Kentucky who's refusing to validate gay marriages. I'm personally against homos tying the knot. But I'm not losing any sleep over the matter. What do I care if a couple of fairies decide to play house? I've got other fish to fry.
I read the paper later in the day. A child in middle school set off a bomb in Seoul. Luckily, the other students were out of the classroom at the time. The police questioned the little lunatic. He said that he wanted to be famous like the Virginia Tech shooter. If I were king of the world, I'd throw this troublemaker in jail for a long long time. Society has enough problems without a teenage maniac running loose.
Anyway, it's time for the song du jour. Here's Sailing Shoes by Robert Palmer. The Meters are his backup band. God bless.