Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Wednesday

(I'm still enjoying Bates Motel.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady worked late.  So I made dinner for the Children of the Rice.  We ate chicken ass and French fries.  The meal was delicious.  Poor old Smith is the chicken ass king.  I washed the vittles down with several large glasses of Coke.  Sugary soft-drinks fill me with joy.  I'm a slave to sweets.

I downloaded the latest episode of Bates Motel.  The series is quite entertaining.  Norman's kidnapped and held in isolation by a drug kingpin.  He slowly remembers that he murdered an innocent school teacher.  The boy compensates by pretending to be a middle-aged woman.  Good stuff.

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 misanthrope.  Smith is all about the love.  I asked Jesus to give me another twenty years.  I need the time to help my children get through school.  After that, he can kill me with painful ass cancer.  I have great health insurance and the morphine is cheap.  So what do I care?

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I had a nightmare about working in a grocery store.  The manager threatened to cave my head in with a baseball bat.  After that, he fired me.  I never have any good dreams.  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.  A student at a Roman Catholic school in England stabbed his elderly teacher several times with a knife.  The old woman died in the hopital.  The boy was promptly arrested.

I turned on Fox News.  The Five dicussed Donald Sterling.  The man's a pig.  But he shouldn't be forced to sell his basketball team.  He made some ignorant comments in the privacy of his own home. His former girlfriend later decided to railroad the dirty old bastard.  It's important to find a woman you can trust.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Senor by Willie Nelson.  God bless.  

Monday, April 28, 2014

Monday

(Jon Bones Jones is absolutely amazing.)

Yesterday, I walked five miles to church.  The journey took an hour.  I have a pot belly and a sagging ass, so I really need the exercise.  A guest from Uzbekistan delivered the sermon.  She discussed the difficulties associated with practicing Christianity in a Muslim country. 

The woman nearly put me to sleep.  Perhaps poor old Smith is being unduly harsh.  But she needs to practice her public speaking skills.  It's tough to convert the pagan hordes if you bore them to death.  A little bit of showmanship never hurt anybody.

We went to McDonald's.  I ate a Big Mac and two large orders of French fries.  The experience was delightful.  I'm a big fan of junk food.  I washed the vittles down with a large glass of Coke.  Sugary soft-drinks make my heart sing with joy.

I downloaded Saturday's matches from the UFC.  I sat absolutely transfixed while watching Jon Bones Jones kick the shit out of his latest opponent.  Have you ever seen this guy fight?  His style is nothing short of genius.  He uses every part of his body to inflict maximum pain and damage on the fragile human anatomy.  The man is truly awe-inspiring.

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 asked Jesus to protect my kids from the temptation of idolatry.  Too many people worship money.  I want The Children of the Rice to live simple happy lives.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I had a dream about fishing in a deserted lake.  I stood in the water with my pole.  I can't remember if I caught anything.  

I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  The Dallas Mavericks are giving the Spurs all that they can handle.  The NBA Playoffs look very exciting this year.  I miss American sports very much.  I used to be an ESPN junkie.

I turned on Fox News.  Cliven Bundy is a racist crackpot.  This news doesn't surprise me.  Nevertheless, Uncle Sam acted with the correct amount of restraint by returning his cattle.  Nobody needs to die over some unpaid grazing fees.  So let's give the devil his due.  Kudos to the Feds for not murdering anybody...on this particular occasion.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Wherever I May Roam by Metallica.  God bless. 

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Sunday

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(I'm no Tim Olyphant.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady made beef and French fries for dinner.  It wasn't her best effort.  In fact, the meal completely sucked ass.  But I didn't complain.  I just smiled and ate my vittles.  I'm wonderful that way.  Poor old Smith's a true optimist.  Some have even described me as a breath of fresh air.  And who am I to disagree?

I downloaded several episodes of Justified.  I'm a big fan of Tim Olyphant.  We're the same age.  Sadly, that's all we have in common.  He's handsome and covered with muscles.  Smith, on the other hand, is a pasty, doughy, toothless hillbilly.  Life's not fair.  Yet things could be far worse.  For instance, I'm thankful that I wasn't born in the Republic of Chad.  Those poor bastards are royally screwed.

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 deluded pagan.  I begged Jesus to turn James-uh into a better student.  I'm tired of listening to his mother bitch all the time about his terrible study habits.

I went to bed at 2 a.m.  I had a strange nightmare.  A beautiful actress took a giant shit on a bed.  Everybody complained about the smell.  The crew wanted me to clean up the mess.  But I refused.  I was promptly fired from the job.

I woke up at 8 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the newspaper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Baseball is becoming very popular in the ROK.  The country has its own professional league.  So far, over one million fans have attended the games this season.  This high attendance is breaking all kinds of records.  I've never been.  Perhaps I should take James-uh.  He could use a break from algebra.

I turned on Fox News.  The owner of the Los Angeles Clippers is a racist.  His attractive young girlfriend dropped a dime on him.  She recorded a private phone conversation and handed the tape to the press.  What a worthless slut.  I say a lot of stuff that could get me in trouble.  It's important to find a woman you can trust.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Angie by The Rolling Stones.  God bless.     

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Saturday

(I'm a big fan of Pink Floyd.)

Yesterday, I went to a barbecue.  I ate mountains of pork and beef.  I also enjoyed scallops and sushi.  Poor old Smith stuffed his face like a true pig.  Then I washed the vittles down with several glasses of Pepsi.  I later became quite bloated and ill.  That's OK.  A man's got to have fun every once in a while. 

I watched The Big Bang Theory.  But I couldn't enjoy the show.  James-uh and the Dragon Lady were arguing yet again.  He's devastated about being forbidden to play his computer games.  And my heart goes out to him.  However, a deal is a deal.  He promised a B average, and he didn't deliver.  So what's a dad to 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 pagan.  I begged Jesus to go ahead and kill me as soon as possible.  I need some peace in my life.  My family's grinding me down more and more as each day passes.  Soon there will nothing left but a little nub.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I had a strange dream.  I drove my car down a deserted highway.  Later, I stopped at a restaurant and ate some hash browns.  They were tasty.  The waitress yelled at me for leaving a tip that was too generous.  I ran out the door.

I woke up at 8 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  Many citizens of the ROK are upset with President Obama.  He's on the verge of giving Japan permission to form an army for protection against China.  However, the Koreans are former slaves of the Imperial Empire.  The last thing they want is an antagonistic neighbor with a powerful military.

I turned on Fox News.  O'Reilly talked about black singers sending negative messages to black children.  He thinks the entertainment industry needs to tone it down a little bit.  I have no opinion.  I'm too old to really care.  Plus my kids aren't into rap music or heavy metal.  But I do know this.  Too many women are having babies out of wedlock.  Fathers have to start looking after their brood.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Shine On You Crazy Diamond by Pink Floyd.  God bless.

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Thursday

(Norma Bates is banging one of her neighbors.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady went to Emart.  She brought home a large pizza in a cardboard box.  The meal was delicious.  I love junk food.  I washed the vittles down with several glasses of Coke.  Sugary soft drinks give me joy.  I'll be dead soon.  And good riddance.  I could really use the rest.

My eldest son James-uh brought me some bad news.  He got a good grade on his math exam.  However, he neglected to study for his other subjects.  So he failed Korean and scored poorly in science.  Once again, his computer has been confiscated.  James-uh can't win for losing.

I watched the latest episode of Bates Motel.  Norma is currently banging one of her rich neighbors.  This relationship isn't sitting well with her twisted son.  Meanwhile, Norman's semen has been found on the body of a dead school teacher.  The wrong man is rotting in prison for the murder.

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 twisted misanthrope.  I believe in love.  I asked Jesus to keep me from going completely insane.  I'm not sure if he will grant my request.  So far, the jury is still out.

I went to bed 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.  The Washington Wizards really have a shot to win a series in the playoffs.  You don't get to say that very often.  Good for them.

I turned on Fox News.  The Five discussed the IRS.  Several agents were given healthy bonuses after they failed to pay their own taxes. That's so disgusting.  I'm no fan of the government.  Bunch of thieves.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's In the Meantime by Space Hogg.  God bless.

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.       

Saturday, April 12, 2014

Saturday

(My youngest son Bluce might start looking like a hillbilly.)

Yesterday, I ate beef and French fries for dinner.  The meal was good.  I'm a huge fan of starch.  I dipped the fries in A-1 Steak Sauce.  The effect was marvelous.  They tasted both crispy and tangy.  I washed my vittles down with several large glasses of Coke.  Sugary soft drinks make me purr like a kitten.

My cold is clinging to me as if it were a tightly fitting shroud.  I'll be dead soon.  And good riddance.  It's not as if the world loves me, anyway.  No tears shall be shed.  But that's OK.  I could certainly use the sleep.

I crawled into bed and watched The Following.  This particular episode featured many flashbacks.  One of the agents was brought up in the midst of a strange religious cult.  The powers-that-be tried to rape her when she was just a teen.  However, she resisted, and her parents were almost kicked to the curb as a result.  Mom and dad still hold a grudge.  Why?  They lost their standing among the drooling psychopaths.  Being crazy ain't easy.

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.  My youngest son Bluce is having some problems with his lower teeth.  They became loose after his recent fall.  I asked Jesus to help him keep his original choppers.  He's far too young to go through life resembling a hillbilly.

I went to bed at 9 p.m.  I brought my notebook and pen to log the carnage.  I had a terrible nightmare about being tied to a large beam of wood.  I was floating face down in a pond.  I suppose the dream means something.  But I'm too stupid to figure it out.

I woke up at 6 a.m.  I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  The San Antonio Spurs are the kings of the Western Conference.  Nevertheless, I still think Oklahoma City is the team to beat.  Yet what do I know?  I've got my own fish to fry.

I turned on Fox News.  The federal government is having a conflict with a rancher in Nevada.  Uncle Sam has confiscated his cattle because he wasn't paying his grazing fees.  There are a lot of pissed off cowboys shaking their angry fists at riot police and snipers.  I hope this doesn't turn into another Ruby Ridge.  We all know what FBI stands for:  Fucking Ball-busting Idiots.

Anway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Balls to the Wall by Accept.  God bless.

Friday, April 11, 2014

Friday

(I'm a big fan of Dunkin Donuts.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady brought Dunkin Donuts back to our humble abode.  I stuffed my face full of sugary pastry.  Then I washed it all down with several glasses of Coke.  I have a sweet tooth.  Now that I've given up both alcohol and cigarettes, junk food is my only pleasure in life.

I still feel horrible.  My cold refuses to go away.  This illness has kept me in its icy grip for over two weeks.  I fear I shan't survive.  I crawled into bed and watched The Following once again.  In this particular episode, Psycho Joe's twisted acolytes slaughter an elderly suburban couple with garden implements.  I enjoy television violence.  The blood reminds me of how temporary life actually is.

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.  My eldest son James-uh is half an idiot.  His teacher just told me that he's in danger of failing 7th grade math.  So I asked Jesus to watch over his silly ass.  The kid is in desperate need of divine protection.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  However, I completely forgot to log my dreams.  What a bummer.  Remembering my ghastly nightmares is becoming quite an interesting hobby.  I'm gradually learning that I'm a deeply disturbed individual.  Who would have guessed it?

I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the morning paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  The Indiana Pacers rested all their starters.  However, they still managed to defeat the Milwaukee Bucks.  Nevertheless, the Pacers seem to be slumping at the wrong time of the year.  I believe Oklahoma City will take the championship.  But I seldom correctly predict this type of stuff.

I turned on Fox News.  The Five spent fifteen minutes badmouthing Muslims.  I completely agree.  Islam is a horrible religion which attracts lots and lots of cave-dwelling knuckle-draggers.  The violence they wreak upon the world is truly disgusting.  Mark my words.  Those towel-headed neanderthals shall be the death of us all.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Uncle John's Band by The Grateful Dead.  God bless.

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Thursday

(The Following is pretty good.)

Yesterday, I ate spicy pork and white rice for dinner.  The Dragon Lady had to work late, so I cooked the meal myself.  I'm quite a gifted chef.  The Children of the Rice love my food.  I'm partial to spice.  We washed our vittles down with several glasses of Coke.  Sugary soft drinks make poor old Smith glow with joy.

I'm still feeling quite poor.  This cold will be the death of me.  I relaxed in bed and watched The Following.  The series stars Kevin Bacon as an alcoholic FBI agent named Ryan Hardy.  This unfortunate drunkard is being tortured by a demented serial killer who adores Edgar Allen Poe.  The show is quite bloody.  I enjoy witnessing violent conflict.  Maybe I'm a pig.

I paid homage to Christ.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  It's not like I'm some filthy nihilist.  I asked Jesus to restore my health.  I also asked him to transform my pagan wife into a kind and generous person.  Anything is possible with God.  But this miracle could take decades, so I'm not holding my breath.

I went to sleep at 10 p.m.  I had a nightmare about driving a truck.  I was fired from the job, and subsequently took to trimming hedges.  However, the neighbors weren't happy with my performance and accused me of ripping them off.  Do yourself a favor.  Log your dreams.  The stuff that goes through your head at night is pretty wild.

I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  A woman in Seoul was arrested for beating her 8-year-old stepdaughter to death.  The victim's older sister also played a part in the crime, helping her twisted mother kick the innocent girl into oblivion.  We live in a fallen world.

I turned on Fox News.  A kid in Pennsylvania went off the deep end.  He stabbed twenty-two of his fellow classmates.  Four of them had to be airlifted to a hospital.  The vice principal is the one who stopped the carnage.  Good for him.  The world is in desperate need of brave men willing to risk their lives for the common good.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Tuesday Afternoon by The Moody Blues.  God bless.

Monday, April 7, 2014

Monday

(Norma Bates is a hottie.)

Yesterday, I walked five miles to church.  The weather was brisk, but I ain't complaining.  I need the exercise.  Poor old Smith is a disgusting fat body with a spare tire and a flabby ass.  I can't remember too much regarding the sermon.  We sing a lot. And all those tunes promote daydreaming.

I took the family to McDonald's.  I consumed a Big Mac and two large orders of French fries.  The Children of the Rice stuffed their faces with McNuggets.  I eat a lot of junk.  I used to be addicted to cigarettes.  Now starch and sugar are my new dope.  I'm looking for a way to mainline bacon grease and freebase pumpkin pie.

I downloaded Bates Motel.  It's an Arts and Entertainment original series.  The actress who plays Norma Bates is extremely hot.  I don't know her name.  But she's definitely a foxy mom.  Norman's first victim is his sexy school teacher.  He uses a large angry blade to send her to the afterlife.  Norman's so screwed up and repressed that he doesn't even realize that he's snuffed a human life.

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 begged Jesus to cure my cold.  I'm dying.  I cough so much that I can't even sleep.  My prayers haven't been answered.  I'm a walking corpse.

I went to bed at midnight.  I dreamed about a childhood project.  I was very nervous.  I had to take the project on the school bus, and my teenage enemies tried to destroy it.  They kept punching it.  I asked them to be nice, but they wouldn't listen.  Bastards.

I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  The Charlotte Bobcats are having a magical season.  They're a game above five hundred and headed to the playoffs.  Good for them.

I turned on Fox News.  The guy who invented Mozilla got fired for opposing gay marriage.  He's considered a neanderthal by the progressives in his circle.  Sometimes, it's best to keep your mouth shut...especially over small shit.  If two guys want to play house, then what's it to me if the government acknowledges their union?  It's not like the powers-that-be are forcing my pastor to perform the wedding ceremony.

Anyway, let's enjoy the song du jour.  Here's Where Have All the Good Times Gone by Van Halen.  God bless.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Sunday

(Mads Mikkelson looks like a reptile.)

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.  Large amounts of grease and animal fat bring joy to my squinty little eyes.  I washed the vittles down with several glasses of Coke.  I love sugar.

I downloaded the latest episode of Hannibal.  Dr. Lecter captures Abel Gideon.  He promptly cuts off his rival's leg and serves it to him as a perverse last supper.  Before dying, Abel compliments the chef and smiles at his assassin.  Talk about creepy stuff.  Mads Mikkelson is wonderful at portraying the psychopathic doctor.  The actor even looks similar to a reptile.  He reminds me of Bela Lugosi.

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 misanthrope.  I asked Jesus to make my life less dramatic.  For instance, it would be great if James-uh could get an average grade in middle school math.  That way I wouldn't have to listen to his crazy mother bitch and moan about his study habits.

I went to bed at 11 p.m.  I kept coughing and coughing.  Poor old Smith is in a lot of pain.  I finally drifted off around 2 a.m.  I had a nightmare involving my youngest boy Bluce.  He went water-skiing with two of his friends.  He was very angry at me for making him go.  Bluce is only six-years-old.

I woke up at 9 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  A man in Seoul went to court to have a sex change operation.  However, the powers-that-be turned down his request because his son and ex-wife complained about his strange ways.  Things aren't easy in Asia.  You must get judicial permission if you wish to lop your testicles off.

I turned on Fox News.  There's a teenage girl being held hostage by the state of Massachusetts.  The doctors claim she has a mental illness, and they won't release her to the care of her parents.  In fact, her mother and father are only allowed to visit once a week for an hour.  No evidence of abuse or neglect has been shown. Government can be a terrible thing.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Black by Pearl Jam.  God bless.

Saturday, April 5, 2014

Saturday

Yesterday, my youngest son Bluce went to a pet store.  He was startled by some poodles and fell off a chair.  The poor kid busted his mouth wide open.  We immediately rushed him to the emergency room.  I had to hold him down while the doctor stitched him up.  He cried and cried and cried.  It was all very heartbreaking.

We didn't get home till 11 p.m.  The weather was terrible.  Damp, windy, and chilly.  I ate chicken noodle soup for dinner.  I'm still suffering from a horrible cold.  I feel terrible.  Perhaps I've contracted viral meningitis.  I'm displaying some of the symptoms.  Poor old Smith isn't long for this world.  Enjoy me while you can.

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 begged Jesus to give me a couple of days for relaxation.  I'm physically and emotionally tired.  All the drama is wearing me to the bone.  I'm a small amount of gravy spread thinly over ten pounds of potatoes.

I went to bed at midnight.  I had another nightmare.  Recording my dreams is turning out to be a hoot.  I was on a plane eating peanuts and drinking gin.  I sat next to President Obama.  He told me that he was against gay marriage.  He also said that homosexuals should be put to the sword for their crimes against nature.  I couldn't believe my ears.

I woke up at 11 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I read the paper while going to the bathroom.  David Letterman will retire in 2015.  His announcement makes me feel old.  I had just started high school when his career in late-night entertainment began.  That was over thirty years ago.  

I turned on Fox News.  O'Reilly is upset because a high school in West Virginia was forced to take down a portrait of Jesus Christ.  Listen.  I'm a fanatic.  But I want to keep religion out of our public institutions.  Why?  There's no way in hell that I want the government pushing Islam or Buddhism down my throat.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Hunger Strike by Temple of the Dog.  God bless.

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Thursday

(Even Liberace thinks I'm a fag.)

Yesterday, I had pork and French fries for dinner.  The meal wasn't very good.  But I didn't complain.  I just smiled and ate my vittles. I'm wonderful that way.  Poor old Smith is an eternal optimist.  My friends call me Chuckles.

I washed it all down with several tall glasses of Coke.  Then I swallowed some medicine.  I have a terrible cold.  I feel absolutely miserable.  Perhaps I've contracted the Ebola virus.  Nothing would surprise me at this point.

I downloaded another episode of Reign.  Yes, I know.  Even Liberace thinks I'm a fag.  But I'm addicted to the series.  I just can't help myself.  Queen Mary is still betrothed to Sebastian, the French king's handsome bastard.  Meanwhile, Nostradamus is languishing in a dungeon awaiting torture after being falsely accused of adultery. Now, if that isn't first-rate entertainment, I'll kiss your ass.

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 begged Jesus to help the Dragon Lady.  The woman is truly a forsaken pagan who struggles daily with anger issues.  I've been waiting patiently, but she refuses to change.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I had a strange nightmare about driving down a treacherous mountain road.  After that, I was fishing in the dark on a deserted beach.  I have no idea what this dream means. But I do know one thing for sure.  Even 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.  Kim Jong-un is threatening to destroy America.  Good luck with that.  He has no idea how powerful my nation actually is.  Just ask the 300,000 dead Chinese who were mowed down during the Korean War. Paper tiger?  I think not.

I turned on Fox News. The Five were discussing how poorly Muslims treat their women.  I have no love for the rag-heads.  Islam remains stuck in the 7th century.  Furthermore, those towel-headed idiots will end up killing us all.  But what do I know?

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Gone, Gone, Gone by Bad Company.  God bless.   

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Wednesday

(Did Richard Nixon read Henry Miller?)

Yesterday, I had chicken noodle soup for dinner.  I've been suffering with a terrible head cold for the last week or so.  And I can't seem to shake it.  Perhaps I've contracted brain cancer.  The meal was quite good.  I dipped French bread into the broth.  Then I washed down my vittles with several large glasses of Coke.  I'm quite partial to sugary soft-drinks.

The Dragon Lady was in one of her foul moods.  She told the Children of the Rice that they aren't allowed to play with the puppy for three weeks.  Why?  The beast is crying too much.  My wife wants to train it first before letting the kids bond with the dog. Getting a pet was a bad idea.  Koreans have been eating canines for centuries. They just have zero feelings for animals.

I watched season one of Hannibal.  Will Graham has contracted encephalitis. However, Dr. Lecter convinces Will's neurologist to keep the diagnosis a secret so that they can perform a ghastly experiment on the FBI special agent.  Hannibal is one sick show. But I love it to death.  I'm drawn like a vulture to a dying zebra.

I paid homage to God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees. No big surprise.  After all, I'm not some filthy pagan living in the jungles of South America.  Smith was gifted with a moral code handed to him by the crucified and resurrected Christ.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I had a strange nightmare about Richard Nixon.  He told me that the works of Henry Miller are overrated. I've never actually read Henry Miller.  But now I'm curious.  In fact, I downloaded all of his novels.

I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee.  Then I perused the paper while enjoying a bathroom break.  There's a Korean baseball player named Choo who inked a huge deal with the Texas Rangers.  He was held hitless by Cliff Lee.  Cliff Lee is truly a phenom.

I turned on Fox News.  The Five were bitterly disappointed.  Why?Over seven million people signed up for Obama's Affordable Healthcare Act.  I'm not the least bit surprised.  The president is amazing.  He always gets what he wants.

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