Sunday, February 23, 2014

Sunday

(American Hustle is a lot of fun.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady made barbecue pork and French fries for dinner.  The meal was wonderful.  My family eats a lot of pig.  We also enjoy munching on potatoes.  I washed the vittles down with several glasses of Coke.  I gain weight daily.  When I die, the city will have to send a crane to remove me from my apartment.  They might also have to bring along a flatbed truck because I probably won't fit in the ambulance.

I downloaded American Hustle.  I highly recommend the movie.  Christian Bale steals the show as a grifter with a conscience.  Bradley Cooper is excellent as his nemesis.  In fact, all the performances are outstanding.  Many of us live our lives based on bullshit.  Sadly, the bullshit can get so deep that we don't even know who we are anymore.  At the end of the film, the protagonist decides to live an honest existence so that he can recover his true identity.  Good stuff.

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 3 a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 8 a.m. and drank a cup of coffee.  Then I read the paper while using the bathroom.

There's a 19-year-old girl in Pennsylvania suspected of killing more than twenty-two people.  Her name is Miranda Barbour.  Miranda claims that she's been a member of a homicidal satanic cult since the age of thirteen.  I don't buy her crap.  And neither does the district attorney.  He thinks she's exaggerating her crimes in order to garner media attention.

I walked to church.  The sermon was pretty good.  The speaker focused on the former prostitute Mary Magdalene.  Jesus appeared to her first after his crucifixion.  It's one of my favorite stories in the bible.  The Lord has a tendency to exalt the humble and humble the exalted.  So we need to be careful.  Humility is the best policy.

Anyway, let's enjoy the song du jour.  Here's Southern Man by Neil Young.  God bless. 

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Saturday

(Laura Ingraham is an angry prude who hates boobies.)

Yesterday, I took my family to a restaurant.  We had spicy chicken and fried rice cake for dinner.  The meal was a little too ethnic for my taste.  But I didn't complain.  I just smiled and ate my vittles.  I'm wonderful that way.  The establishment offered free soda, so I drank a gallon of Coke.  I'll be dead soon.  But I'm not complaining.  After all, what's a boy to do?

We went to the cinema and watched Robocop.  I loved the film.  It features some of my all-time favorite actors.  Samuel L. Jackson plays a conservative talk show host.  Michael Keaton portrays an evil businessman.  And Gary Oldman shines as a brilliant but conflicted scientist.  However, keep one thing in mind.  I'm not too bright.  I have the mind of a 12-year-old boy.  Therefore, my idea of art might be completely screwed.

We walked back to our Soviet-style concrete tenement.  Korean cities are marvelous after dark.  They come alive with loud music and bright neon lights.  Lots of drunken men roam the streets.  Yet street crime is almost non-existent.  It's not a bad place to raise a family.  I never stress about The Children of the Rice falling victim to drug dealers or violence.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I refuse to live my life like a filthy atheist.  I went to bed at 11 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 7 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break. 

The entire peninsula is still bitterly disappointed that Kim Yuna failed to bring the gold medal back to the ROK.  But I really don't care one way or the other.  In my humble opinion, figure skating is a sport which appeals primarily to dissatisfied housewives and bored homosexuals.  The world moves forward.

I turned on Fox News.  Laura Ingraham was a guest on The Factor.  She's angry about the new Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition.  Laura feels the models reveal too much of their delicious youthful bodies.  Have you ever noticed that it's always middle-aged flat-chested crones who want the younger generation to cover their breasts?  Get a life, Ms. Ingraham.  Our planet is filled with enough bitter old church ladies.  Please don't add to their numbers.

Anyway, let's enjoy the song du jour.  Here's Hocus Pocus by Focus.  God bless.

Friday, February 21, 2014

Friday

(Ice Queen Kim Yuna Dethroned in Sochi.)

Yesterday, I took my family to a restaurant.  We had barbecue beef for dinner.  The meat was delicious.  Korean meals come with a lot of side dishes--the most famous of which is kimchi.  However, I can't touch the stuff.  Fermented cabbage smothered in hot sauce is far too ethnic for me.  But my youngest son Bluce loves it.  He's a real Asian tiger.  The boy reeks of garlic.  Good for him.

We walked back through the cold and damp to our Soviet-style concrete tenement.  I stayed up late and watched the Olympic figure skating competition.  Here on the ROK, Kim Yuna is considered a national treasure.  She's very graceful and attractive.  Plus she's filthy rich.  Surprisingly, Yuna lost the gold medal to a Russian girl named Adelina Sotnikova.  The entire peninsula is emotionally devastated.  I shit you not.

I paid homage to Christ.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  The Gospels are extremely political.  It's all about honoring God rather than Caesar.  And Jesus will get no argument from me.  Service to the state should not be a man's primary purpose in life.  In fact, extreme patriotism is nothing more than a sinful form of idolatry.  But what do I know?

I went to bed at 4 a.m.  I had a horrible nightmare.  Yet I can't remember it.  No big surprise.  After all, my demons have demons.  I woke up at 9 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break. 

There was a disturbing article concerning a Maryland resident named Patrick O' Callaghan.  About a year ago, he and his wife adopted a Korean toddler with special needs.  Sadly, Patrick was arrested for beating the child to death.  We live in a cold cruel world, so hug your loved ones tightly.  Nobody knows the future.

I turned on Fox News.  An elementary school in New York is the focus of a narcotics investigation.  An empty bag of heroin was found in the faculty bathroom.  Bill O'Reilly became quite irate.  He said that 25 percent of all American teachers are a bunch of losers who should immediately be fired.  Bill's always been a hyperbolic boob.  Why people take him seriously is beyond me.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jourHere's Gimme Three Steps by Lynyrd Skynyrd.  God bless. 

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Tuesday

(True Detective is the best show on television.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady brought home a pizza for dinner.  My boys were ravenous.  They devoured the entire pie in less than five minutes.  I only ate a couple of slices.  But I didn't complain.  I'm wonderful that way.  I just smiled and snacked on some reheated egg rolls.  I washed the food down with several glasses of Coke.

I downloaded the latest episode of True Detective.  The protagonists find two children locked away in a storage shed. They immediately murder the meth-heads responsible for the crime. One of the reprobates is actually blown in half by a landmine.  You get to see his torso flying through the air as if it were a fleshy canon ball.  Pretty cool if you ask me.  Now that's first-rate entertainment.

My eldest son James-uh is a huge fan of The Walking Dead.  He told me that the extras have to go to zombie school for a period of two years.  

I said, "Bullshit."

He said, "It's true.  Being a zombie isn't easy.  You gotta learn it in college."

The Children of the Rice are a couple of nerds.  But I couldn't be happier.  I don't have to worry about sports injuries or drug abuse. Nor is teenage pregnancy much of a concern.  James-uh is thirteen. He's certainly no chick magnet.  I just wish they were better at math.  I used to think all Asians were good with numbers. Silly me.

I paid homage to Christ.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees. No big surprise.  It's not like I'm some enlightened godless humanist. My raison d'etre comes from a higher power.

I went to bed at 1 a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 7 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  There was an interesting article about comfort women.  

The Japanese were some real bastards during their days of empire. In fact, many Korean females were turned into sexual slaves for the entertainment of the imperial army.  The ROK is still pissed, demanding more reparations for the surviving victims. Good luck with that.

I turned on Fox News.  The Five discussed the Netflix series House of Cards.  I watched season one.  I'm not a huge fan.  I found it to be a tad overwrought.  But I'm no Harvard graduate. Poor old Smith is probably far too stupid to appreciate the intricate nature of the show.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Night Fever by The Bee Gees.  God bless.         

Monday, February 17, 2014

Monday

(What can I say?  I'm a fan.)

Yesterday, I had spicy pork and white rice for dinner.  The meal wasn't very good.  But I didn't complain.  I just smiled and ate my vittles like a champion.  I'm wonderful that way.  I washed the food down with several glasses of Coke. 

My diet is atrocious.  I'll be dead soon.  In fact, I can feel the Grim Reaper's eerie presence in my apartment as I write this tripe.  Yes, it won't be long till poor old Smith is singing with the angels.  I just hope they're fond of Neal Diamond.  I'm also partial to The Bee Gees.

I downloaded Helix from Kickass Torrents.  The setting for the show is a remote area in northern Greenland.  A mad Japanese scientist has set up a virus factory with the help of government funding.  His intent is to manufacture a super-soldier.  The series is quite entertaining.  The director expertly creates an ominous sense of isolation.  But perhaps I'm retarded.  Give it a try, and let me know.

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 drunken pagan.

I went to bed at 3 a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 8 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  The Americans defeated the Russians in hockey.  I don't know much about the sport. 

I tried ice skating last summer.  Unfortunately, my ankles were too weak to support my considerable body weight, so I fell down over and over again.  The management actually became concerned about my health.  They helped me to a nearby bench and gave me free coffee and snacks.


I turned on Fox News.  I watched a special about President Bush the elder.  Britt Hume kept singing his praises.  However, I can't remember much about Bush's leadership.  I know he lied when it came to raising taxes.  Plus he nominated a pro-abortion justice to the Supreme Court.  And let's not forget the first war with Iraq.  Other than that, I'm drawing a blank.

I walked ten miles.  Now my tootsies hurt.  Yet sore dogs are a small price to pay for mental well-being.   Exercise is great stress relief.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Nights On Broadway by the Bee Gees.  God bless. 

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Sunday

(Koreans love their soju.)

Yesterday, I had barbecue pork for dinner.  The meal was delicious.  My brother-in-law cooked the meat.  He owns a very large house in Pusan.  It cost him over a million dollars.  His abode is very spacious.  The structure consists of three floors.  My brother-in-law makes teeth for a living.  He then sells his wares to the dentists around town.  There appears to be a lot of money in teeth.

I drank soju with my vittles.  Soju is the best-selling alcoholic beverage in the entire world.  No kidding.  In fact, Korean men are the heaviest drinkers on the planet Earth.  I used to be able to hold my own with the locals.  But these days, I'm far too old and feeble to live my life as a drunkard.  Nevertheless, I took a couple of shots just for the sake of politeness.  Drinking with the family is extremely important here on the peninsula.  It's considered mannerly.

My mother-in-law recently bought an Audi.  I have no idea where she gets her money.  She gave me her old car.  I'm subsequently the proud owner of a Samsung SM3.  The vehicle has 150,000 kilometers on the odometer.  But that's OK.  It'll only be used for driving to and from work.  The Dragon Lady can now spend her days tooling around in our Santa Fe SUV--which is nearly paid for.

My wife's family name is Mihn.  All her people are godless pagans.  However, they certainly seem nice enough.  When I tell them that Jesus Christ was crucified and came back from the dead, they roll their eyes and laugh at me.  So what's a boy to do?  I certainly don't take their derision personally.  We're all entitled to our own opinions.

I went to bed at 11 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 9 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  The journey home was murder.  It took nearly six hours.  Koreans are horrible drivers.  If I were king of the universe, I'd confiscate their cars and give each family a horse and buggy.  So let it be written, so let it be done.

We finally arrived at 4 p.m.  I had to drag many packages up several flights of stairs.  Our Soviet-style concrete tenement doesn't have an elevator.  But I'm not complaining.  Poor old Smith needs the exercise.

I turned on Fox News.  A 47-year-old man in Florida got pissed off at a teenager.  The child was playing music too loudly.  So the guy retrieved his gun and murdered the boy.  Sometimes, you have to take a deep breath and count to ten.  I shit you not.  This whole tragedy could have been averted with a little bit of anger management.

Anyway, I'll talk to you later.  The song du jour is Creeping Death by Metallica.  God bless. 

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Thursday

(Justified is an entertaining show.)

Yesterday, I took my family to a restaurant.  We ate fried chicken.  My kids also ordered dok-boki.  Translation?  Rice cake smothered in hot sauce.  I can't tolerate the stuff.  It's far too ethnic for a pasty-faced white man.  But the poultry was tasty.  I dipped my bird in mustard and salt.  Perhaps I'll have a massive stroke in the near future.  That actually sounds nice and painless.  I can think of worse ways to go.

We walked back to our Soviet-style concrete tenement.  It snowed quite heavily.  Some high-strung middle school boys accidentally bumped into the Dragon Lady.  She ripped them a new asshole.  My wife doesn't take any guff from rug-rats.  Good for her.

I completed season three of Justified.  The show rocks.  It's based on an Elmore Leonard short story.  The creepy antagonist Robert Quarles gets his arm severed by a meat cleaver.  He reaches desperately for his appendage before crumpling helplessly to the floor.  The part is played flawlessly by character actor Neal McDonough.  Neal's famous for starring in Band of Brothers.  He's excellent in that series, too.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I refuse to live my life like a filthy atheist. 

I went to bed at 4 a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at ten a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  A Korean finally won an Olympic medal.  The honor went to a female speed skater.  The peninsula is alive with joy.  Happy days are here again.

I turned on Fox News.  Dr. Ben Carson appeared on The Factor.  He compared Obama to the Nazis.  The IRS has been breathing down Ben's neck, and the good doctor is feeling the heat.  Here's the deal.  If you bad mouth the powers-that-be, they're going to come after you.  Get used to it.

I walked ten miles.  I enjoy exercise.  It helps kill my stress.  However, the weather was crazy.  I had to battle sleet and hail.  Plus the wind was out of control.  My umbrella almost floated away.  No kidding.

The Dragon Lady is currently drinking coffee with her friends, so I'm alone with The Children of the Rice.  My youngest son Bluce just took a dump.  The kid is only six, but he shits like a bear.  He broke the toilet.  I can't get the damn thing to flush.  It's all clogged up with his smelly fecal matter.

Anyway, I'll talk to you later.  Today's song du jour is Do Ya by ELO.  God bless.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Wednesday

(Jim Parsons is extremely gay.)

Yesterday, I ate chicken ass and French fries for dinner.  The Dragon Lady was enjoying coffee with her friends, so I cooked the meal myself.  I did a marvelous job.  The meat was both tasty and chewy.  Poor old Smith is the chicken ass king.  I washed the vittles down with several large glasses of Coke.  I'm a big fan of cola.  The sugar makes me feel wonderful.

I downloaded The Big Bang Theory.  Usually, I love the show.  But this episode was a little strange.  Sheldon kisses his longtime girlfriend Amy.  The problem?  Jim Parsons is extremely gay.  In fact, he's so gay that no closet is big enough to hold him.  Which is cool by me.  I'm not a homophobe.  But watching him stick his tongue down a girl's throat just gave me the willies.  Imagine Liberace making out with Bette Midler.  The very notion is odd and disconcerting.

I paid homage to Christ.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  It's not like I'm some godless nihilist.  All men worship--even atheists.  Some bow to gold.  Others serve political leaders.  The world is filled with idolaters.  I just thank Jesus that I ain't one of them.

I went to bed at four a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at one p.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while using the bathroom.  The Korean speed-skating team got squashed by the Dutch.  So far the ROK hasn't won a single medal.  The entire peninsula is in mourning.  The nation's last hope is Kim Yuna.  She won the gold in figure skating four years ago.  I hope she falls and breaks her ass.  I'm a real bastard that way.

I turned on Fox News.  O'Reilly believes he can single-handedly solve America's drug problem.  All pushers, according to Bill, should be sentenced to a minimum of twenty years in a federal penitentiary.  Meanwhile, all users should be forced to attend twenty-two months of in-patient drug rehabilitation.  Does anybody take O'Reilly seriously?  He's such a clown.  However, he is entertaining.  I've got to give him that.

I went for a ten mile walk late in the afternoon.  Walking is great stress relief.  I'm now relaxing in bed while the Dragon Lady bakes cookies.  The smell is marvelous.  I'm in cookie heaven.

It's time for the song of the day.  Here's Neil Diamond singing Sweet Caroline.  God bless. 

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Tuesday

(Marius gets greased.)

Yesterday, I had spicy pork and white rice for dinner.  The meal sucked giant ass.  But I didn't complain.  I just smiled and ate my vittles.  I'm wonderful that way.  The glass is always half-full in my humble abode.  I washed the food down with a gallon of Coke.  I drink a bottle a day.  Poor old Smith is pretty much on the wagon.  So I have to look to another source to satisfy my cravings for sugar.

I downloaded True Detective.  The series is masterful.  The two protagonists have linked the murder of a prostitute to a satanic cult.  The key to the case hinges on finding a biker meth cook.  They're now very close to locating the reprobate.  Many of the locations are eerily familiar to me.  I spent years living in rural Louisiana.  The bayou is filled with criminals.  Sadly, poverty and ignorance often breed bad behavior.
 
I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I refuse to live my life like a filthy atheist.  Nietzsche believed that Christians are essentially anarchists who weaken the fabric of the state.  Therefore, he detested the religion.  And guess what?  The deranged philosopher was absolutely correct.  The best Christians are anarchists.  Allegiance to God is much more important than loyalty to a nation.  In fact, extreme patriotism is nothing more than a form of idolatry.

I went to bed at four a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at ten a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  A young giraffe named Marius lived in the Copenhagen Zoo.  Sadly, the powers-that-be decided to execute him.  They shot poor Marius in the head with a bolt gun.  After that, he was dismembered in front of women and children.  Finally, chunks of his carcass were fed to the lions as onlookers snapped pictures.  Wow.  That's disturbing.

(Marius being devoured by naughty felines.)


I turned on Fox News.  A college basketball player named Marcus Smart shoved a fan during a game in Texas.  Why?  The fifty-year-old victim called the young player a piece of crap.  Consequently, Marcus was suspended for three games by the NCAA.  What a bunch of bullshit.  Old men who get their jollies watching sports need to grow up and keep their mouths shut.  If they refuse to act respectfully, they should be escorted out of the building.

Well, my friends, it's time to say goodbye.  Let me leave you with the song of the day.  Here's Rod Stewart's Do Ya Think I'm Sexy.  God bless.      

Monday, February 10, 2014

Monday

(My pastor is a big fan of Paul.)

Yesterday, I walked to church.  The service I attend takes place in a bar/restaurant.  My pastor is an ordained Baptist minister.  Yet he considers himself non-denominational.  His name is Ken.  He's born-again and loves the Apostle Paul.  Ken absolutely adores Romans, considering it the most valuable section of the bible for those wishing to understand Christian thought.

I, on the other hand, try to swim in the shallow end of the pool. Your humble narrator really isn't a traditional evangelical.  I'm more of a Jesus freak.  I prefer The Gospels to the letters of Paul.  In fact, if it weren't for Christ, I'd probably be just another filthy atheist or misguided pagan.  I'd certainly never make it as a Jew or a Muslim.  Don't get me wrong.  I enjoy reading the Old Testament.  And Paul brought much needed light to the ignorant Gentiles of Europe and Asia Minor.  But Jesus is the straw which stirs the drink.

Anyway, the service went as expected.  There was a lot of singing and dancing.  Our congregation is replete with Africans, Americans, Russians, and Koreans.  The songs are often very lively.  But I'm an uptight middle-aged white man.  I refuse to shake my ass in public.  Nor do I sing.  I prefer to lip-sync like an untalented pop-star. 

I took the family to McDonald's.  I had a Big Mac with two large orders of French Fries.  I washed the food down with sixteen ounces of Coke.  I decided to walk home by myself.  The wife and kids took the car.  Along the way, I had to desperately use the bathroom.  I ducked into a large church in order to evacuate my bowels.

While sitting solemnly in the bathroom stall, the Dragon Lady called.  She told me to meet her at the local movie theater.  We watched Frankenstein.  It seems the monster is now helping gargoyles in their fight against demons.  No kidding.  I fell asleep ten minutes into the film.  I was absolutely exhausted.

We walked back to our Soviet-style concrete apartment.  It began to snow heavily.  I went to bed at 11 p.m.  I had a strange dream.  I was helping a stranger in the wilderness set bear traps.  Perhaps I need to start drinking again.  I didn't wake up until 1 p.m.  That's an amazing thirteen hours of shut-eye.  Wow.

I drank coffee.  Then I read the paper during a bathroom break.  The Koreans are very excited about the Olympics.  They have a good speed skating team and an excellent female figure skater.  But I don't care.  I'm more into the big three: football, baseball, and basketball.  I have no use for crap like snowboarding or ice dancing.  Who actually gives a flying screw?

I turned on Fox News.  Mike Huckabee played The Twist with Chubby Checker.  Chubby looks great.  The guy must be closing in on seventy.  He can still dance, too.  Rock and roll tends to keep people young.

Anyway, it's time to say goodbye.  The song of the day is Bette Davis Eyes by Kim Carnes.  God Bless.

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Saturday

(Jay Leno gets fired by NBC.)

Yesterday, I ate beef and egg rolls for dinner.  The meal was good.  My wife is the egg roll queen.  I washed down the vittles with a gallon of Coke.  Then I devoured three donuts.  I'm a big fan of Dunkin Donuts.  However, I'm not too crazy about Krispy Kreme.  Perhaps I'm old school.  Then again, I might just be old.

I viewed several episodes of Rome: Rise and Fall of an Empire.  It's one of those History Channel programs.  But don't mistake me for an intellectual.  I'm just a sad lonely dilettante who has the IQ of a dolphin. 

Roman history fascinates me the way some hapless nerds gravitate toward stamps or the civil war.  And you have to give the Romans credit.  Being a global empire is no easy task.  Yet they enslaved the entire ancient world for nearly six hundred years.  Good for them.  The bastards probably had it coming.

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.  It was actually Jesus who defeated Rome.  In fact, Christ is very much the king of the Eternal City.  If you don't believe me, go ask the pope.

I went to bed at four a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at noon and drank some coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Koreans don't believe that foreigners should ever use the term Sea of Japan.  They prefer East Sea.  Why?  Koreans hate the Japanese.  The feud seemingly goes back to the beginning of time.  I don't get involved.

I turned on Fox News.  The Five discussed Jay Leno's retirement.  Mr. Leno is a competent comedian.  But I really don't care about his future plans.  I've never been interested in celebrity nonsense.  Smith has his own fish to fry.

The Dragon Lady took the boys to see the new Lego movie.  I wish I had went with them.  I heard it's funny.  Plus I'm bored.

Anyway, enjoy the song of the day.  Here's Beautiful Girls by Van Halen.  God bless.

Friday, February 7, 2014

Friday

(The Shield is very gritty.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady brought home snacks from Dunkin Donuts.  I spent the evening shoving pastry into my fat face.  The experience was delightful.  I washed all that junk down with a gallon of Coke.  I'll be dead soon.  But that's OK.  Death is natural.  And how hard can it possibly be?  Everybody dies.  Even Jesus Christ, himself, was dead for two days before rising on the third.

I finished viewing The Shield.  Talk about depressing.  Shane murders his wife and child.  Then he blows his brains out while alone in a bathroom.  The suicide note is both sad and eloquent.  It would bring Hitler to tears.  On top of that, Vic throws Gardoki to the wolves, sending him to prison for the rest of his life.  Finally, Corrine chooses witness protection because she thinks that her husband will eventually kill her.  The Shield makes me feel like a pig wallowing in a mud puddle.  But I'm not complaining.  The dirt and grime are marvelous.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I refuse to live my life like a dirty nihilist.

I went to bed at four a.m.  I had a strange dream.  I strolled through the city streets with my wife.  Meanwhile, our pastor walked behind us.  He kept asking why we had left church early.  I couldn't give think of an answer.  So we followed him back to the Sunday service. 

I woke up at 1 p.m.  I drank some coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  The Asian Games are being held in Incheon during the month of September.  But some in the international community have threatened to boycott the event.  Why?  Koreans still eat dogs.  In fact, they prefer their canine to be cooked in a stew.  I've tried it.  Dog soup tastes horrible.  Yuck.

I turned on Fox News.  O'Reilly laughed about Russia hosting the Winter Olympics.  The water is brown.  There are bugs in the food.  The hotel rooms lack good security.  And the commodes can't handle toilet paper.  I agree with Bill.  The powers-that-be should have chosen Austria.  How Putin got them to agree on Sochi is beyond me.  He must have a golden tongue.

I spent the afternoon messing around on the Playstation.  My favorite game is NCAA Football.  The graphics are very realistic.  I have mad skills.  Poor old Smith is undefeated.  My defense is ranked number one in the country.

Well, it's time to say goodbye.  The song of the day is Meatloaf's Paradise By the Dashboard Lights.  God bless.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Thursday

(Is America a nanny state?)
 
Yesterday, I ate chicken ass and egg rolls for dinner.  I like chicken ass.  It's cheap.  And the meat is both tasty and chewy.  The Dragon Lady was away drinking coffee with her friends, so I had to prepare the meal myself.  I did a splendid job.  Perhaps I'm the chicken ass king.  Stranger things have happened.

I washed the vittles down with a gallon of Coke.  I used to enjoy drinking spirits.  But I seldom imbibe any longer.  Sadly, I'm too old.  My feeble wrinkled body can no longer tolerate copious amounts of alcohol.  The hangovers are deadly.  Aging isn't for pussies.

I downloaded Criminal Minds.  A spree killer is on the loose in Cleveland.  He's gunning down everyone connected to his wife's murder.  Unfortunately, he accidentally shoots the wrong man.  The killer can't handle the guilt of shedding innocent blood, so he turns the pistol on himself and blows his own brains out.  The end.

Vengeance is for the birds.  And hatred is a cancer that will eat you alive.  A life predicated on forgiveness is the only wise option.  Besides, what other choice do you have?  You can't kill everybody.

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 four a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 1 p.m. and drank some coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Manny Pacquiao will square-off against Timothy Bradley on April 12th.  This will mark the second time the two men have faced each other in the ring.  Manny's decision to stage the rematch makes no sense.  It's a tough bout with little upside.  The fight will end in an uninspiring unanimous decision marked by boos and catcalls.  Mark my words.

I turned on Fox News.  O'Reilly says the United States is turning into a nanny state.  He might be right.  But let's face facts.  America's manufacturing base was shipped overseas by the fat cats.  So all those blue-collar jobs have pretty much shit the bed.  Many now work in the service sector--which often pays next to nothing.  This lack of money translates into more social services.  Makes perfect sense to me.  Is the government supposed to let everybody eat cake?

Anyway, I'll leave you with the song of the day.  Here's Uncle Remus by Frank Zappa. God bless. 

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Wednesday

(Bill O'Reilly is such a blowhard.)

Yesterday, I ate beef and French fries for dinner.  The food was delicious.  The Dragon Lady really hit the mark.  And she didn't complain one single time about having to cook the meal.  In fact, her disposition was quite sunny.  That's both unusual and pleasant. 

I washed down my vittles with a gallon of Coke.  I also devoured five chocolate bars.  I'm almost 220 pounds.  My blood is thicker than bacon grease, and my heart is a beating juicy hamburger.  I'll be dead soon.  But that's OK.  I only need another twenty years.  I can do it standing on my head.

I downloaded season seven of The Shield.  The series is very good.  However, the writing is quite heavy and depressing.  Vic's daughter is consumed with a burning hatred for her father.  She starts experimenting with sex and drugs to punish her dad.  After watching the program, I often feel that a shower is necessary so that I can wash away the psychological dirt and grime.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I refuse to live my life like some misguided nihilist.  The first person whom Jesus reveals himself to after his resurrection is the former prostitute Mary Magdalene.  Go figure.  The Boss has his own way of doing things.  And I just stand in awe.

I went to bed at four a.m.  I had a nightmare about puffing on a Marlboro with some old high school buddies.  The dream was very vivid.  I woke up nearly in tears.  I haven't had a cigarette in two years.  I thought I was back on the junk.

I drank some coffee at eleven a.m.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Janet Yellen was sworn in as the new Chairman of the Federal Reserve.  I don't envy Ms. Yellen.  She has inherited an absolute mess.  

In the future, Janet might promise to taper, but her words are bullshit.  She's a printer through and through, and the global bankers still need their monetary heroin.  Trust me.  She'll be more than happy to accommodate her Ivy League buddies.  After all, the world is nothing more than an ugly circle-jerk.

I turned on Fox News.  O'Reilly is using the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman to drive his anti-drug agenda.  Bill wants to throw the pushers in jail.  Yawn.  We already incarcerate more people than Russia and China combined.  So where are we going to house millions of new prisoners?  It's time to legalize drugs.  If we truly want to save lives, then let the addicts get their junk from actual doctors.

Anyway, it's time to say goodbye.  The song of the day is Hey Hey My My by Neil Young.  God bless. 

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Tuesday

(Jonathan Rhys Meyers plays Dracula.)

Yesterday, I ate white rice and spicy pork for dinner.  The Dragon Lady was away drinking coffee with her friends, so I cooked the meal myself.  Preparing food is a lowly task which is better left to the women.  But I did a wonderful job.  I'm a real Betty Crocker.  I washed the vittles down with a gallon of Coke.  Poor old Smith is a thirsty boy.

I downloaded Dracula.  The title role is played by British actor Jonathan Rhys Meyers.  He strolls through London pretending to be an American entrepreneur.  The crazed vampire has a duel agenda.  He wants to kill his enemies and rid the world of fossil fuel.  I kid you not.  Dracula is a greenie.  In fact, he's invented a form of clean energy.  Sounds goofy?  Well, it is.  Nevertheless, I'm giving the series my seal of approval.  The show is entertaining.

I paid homage to Christ.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  It's not like I'm some sort of filthy atheist.  An existence without God revolves around death and decay, reducing humans to biological sacks of meat.  The last thing I need is that type of darkness in my life.

I went to bed at four a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 11 a.m. and drank some coffee.  Then I read the morning paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Phillip Seymour Hoffman died of a drug overdose.  The police discovered Hoffman's lifeless corpse in his New York apartment.  It seems that the talented actor was addicted to heroin.  That's quite a monkey to have clawing at your back.   It's tough enough quitting cigarettes.  I can't imagine the hell of narcotic dependency.

I turned on Fox News.  Bill O'Reilly rambled on and on about his interview with Obama.  O'Reilly is an entertaining talk show host.  But he enjoys the smell of his own farts a little too much.  Bill's conversation with the president was far from brilliant.  In fact, it was mediocre at best.

The Dragon Lady went shopping at Homeplus.  She bought lots and lots of goodies, including chocolate and potato chips.  We live on the fourth floor of a small apartment building.  Unfortunately, our Soviet-style concrete tenement doesn't have an elevator.  So I had to lug all the groceries up the steps.  But that's OK.  A man my age needs to keep in shape.  Next I'll be running marathons.

Anyway, enjoy the song of the day.  Here's Showbiz Kids by Steely Dan.  God bless.

Monday, February 3, 2014

Monday

(Andy Whitfield:  I still can't believe he's dead.) 

Yesterday, I took my youngest son Bluce to a restaurant.  The Dragon Lady came with us.  She was in a foul mood.  We ate yang-yum chicken.  Translation?  It's fried poultry smothered in a spicy yellow mystery sauce.  The meal was good.  I washed down my vittles with several glasses of Coke.

We walked back to our Soviet-style concrete tenement.  I watched Spartacus: War of the Damned.  My cable provider is offering the show for free through the month of February.  I love all four seasons of the popular series.  Spartacus is no less than an inspired work of genius. The death of Andy Whitfield remains a mystery to me.  He was nearly my age and the picture of health before cancer ate him alive.  I, on the other hand, am a doughy wrinkled retard with bacon grease for blood.  Yet I still breathe.  Go figure.

I paid homage Christ.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  And why not?  Everything else fades away.  Collect gold till it's coming out your ears.  It won't protect you from the grave.  Build wonderful monuments to your own glory.  Time will tear them down.  Construct the greatest empire ever know to man.  It will eventually fall and turn to dust.  God is the only thing that endures.

I went to bed at 3 a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 11 a.m. and drank some coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Woody Allen has a step-daughter named Dylan Farrow.  She says he sexually assaulted her when she was a child.  Woody is one sick puppy.  He molests one daughter and marries the other.  Solution?  Let's hang him from a tree in the town square.  So let it be written, so let it be done.

I downloaded the Super Bowl.  The Seahawks crushed the Broncos.  I wasn't the least bit surprised.  Seattle has a nasty defense.  Their secondary is the best I've ever seen.  Poor old Peyton and his receivers never stood a chance.  The whole affair was nothing but an old-fashioned ass kicking.

I caught the interview between Bill O'Reilly and Obama.  Bill asked the president about his healthcare plan.  On this particular issue, I'm a biased dirty leftist.  I don't like Obama-care because it doesn't go far enough.  America needs socialized medicine.  We now have a bullshit service economy featuring tons of bogus low-paying crap jobs.  Nobody has two nickels to rub together.  So at least let us see a doctor without having to declare bankruptcy.

Anyway, enjoy the song of the day.  Here's You Better You Better You Bet by The Who.  God bless.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Sunday

(American Horror Story is very gay.)

Yesterday, I ate eggs and hash-browns for dinner.  The Dragon Lady was visiting her sister in Pusan, so I made the meal myself.  I did a damn fine job.  I have mad culinary skills.  However, I prefer food prepared by my wife.  Why?  Cooking is woman's work.  And poor old Smith is an unabashed Neanderthal.

I watched the finale of American Horror Story.  The program is extremely gay.  It revolves around a coven of witches located in New Orleans.  All the male characters are either pretty boys or homosexuals.  But that's OK.  I enjoyed the series anyway.  And I really loved the banter between Jessica Lange and Kathy Baker.  Perhaps I'm half a fag.

I paid homage to Jesus Christ.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  I refuse to live my life like some filthy twisted atheist.  I need a code.  Christianity is very macho.  God is tortured and put to death in order to save flawed humanity.  He willingly suffers side by side with his creation.  Now that's service.

I went to bed at 4 a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 11 a.m. and drank some coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Avian flu is spreading throughout Korea at an alarming pace.  Wild ducks are the culprit.  Influenza kills lots and lots of people every year.  If it's not one thing, it's another.  Nobody gets out alive.

I turned on Fox News.  Judge Pirro made fun of Nancy Pelosi and Obama-care.  I'm one of those dirty communists who believes in socialized medicine.  Why?  I have no money.  If I were rich, I'd probably be just another greedy bastard who wants the poor to hurry up and die. 

The Dragon Lady arrived home at two p.m.  She's been cleaning for seven straight hours.  The woman is in a foul mood.  My wife is obsessed with cleanliness.  Dust is her mortal enemy.

Anyway, let's finish this post with the song of the day.  Here's Crosby, Stills, and Nash performing Suite Judy Blue Eyes.  Enjoy the music, and God bless you all.

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Saturday

(Football great Fran Tarkenton never won a Super Bowl.)

Yesterday, I had beef and French fries for dinner.  The Dragon Lady is still in Pusan.  So I made the meal myself.  It actually tasted pretty good.  I'm a real Betty Crocker. 

I washed the vittles down with 200 ounces of beer.  Suds are expensive here in Korea.  Therefore, most of the locals prefer to drink soju--a form of very cheap vodka.  A grown man can get completely polluted for less than three dollars.

I don't like being alone.  I'm easily spooked.  I believe in ghosts.  I believe in evil spirits.  And I also believe that the flesh-eating dead wander the earth during the night.  You get the idea.  My demons have demons.  It's a wonder I haven't run amok with an axe.  But I'm only 45-years-old.  So I still have time.

I watched season five of The Shield.  The series is fascinating.  I highly recommend it.  Lemansky is on his way to Mexico.  But Kavanaugh--played brilliantly by Forest Whitaker--is trailing the disgraced police officer.  Furthermore, Vic's attractive female lawyer is slowly realizing just how vile her client is.  Does The Shield have a thesis?  I think so.  Here it is: Evil is often both hypnotic and mundane.

I paid homage to Christ.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I refuse to live my life like a dirty nihilist.  Am I a good person?  Not in a million years.  In fact, I truly suck giant ass.  Ironically, it's the knowledge of my rotten nature which forces me to reach out for God's help.  Go figure.

I went to bed at four a.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 11 a.m.  I drank some coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Nine people were murdered at a wedding in Cambodia.  The bride's former boyfriend threw a hand grenade into her backyard during the nuptials.  Two of the victims were children.  She and her husband survived the attack.

I turned on Fox News.  Bill O'Reilly interviewed former Viking's quarterback Fran Tarkenton.  Fran is now 72-years-old.  He played in three Super Bowls and lost them all.  He is still haunted by his failures.  Fran said that American football is far too dangerous these days.  The helmets are used as deadly weapons.  I agree.  I love the sport.  But I'd never let The Children of the Rice play the game.

Anyway, let's end this post with the song of the day.  Here's Joe Walsh's Life of Illusion.  Enjoy the music, and God bless you all.