(I thought Floyd Mayweather got his ass kicked.)
Yesterday, I walked five miles to church. But I'm not complaining. I'm a disgusting fat-body with a beer-belly and a sagging ass. I need the exercise. It's also nice to get away from the wife and kids for an hour or so. The problem with walking in Korea is the traffic. These people are maniacs. If I were king, I'd confiscate their automobiles and give them horses.
The sermon bored me to tears. First, the praise team went overboard yet again. Must we sing for thirty freaking minutes every Sunday? After all, it's not a Deep Purple concert. To make matters worse, the guest speaker came across as a patronizing oaf. He reminded me of a first grade teacher. But don't blame the pastor. It's my fault completely. Poor old Smith is an unfortunate reprobate heading for hell. With that said, why can't a service be somewhat entertaining? Is a little bit of fun against God's will?
We went to McDonald's. I devoured a Big Mac and two large orders of French fries. I washed the vittles down with a gallon of Coke. I love junk food. The sugar, salt, and starch give me a great high. I'll be dead soon. Yet I'm not worried. I just got to make it another twenty years. I can do that standing on my head.
I downloaded the Floyd Mayweather match. He won by majority decision. I'm no expert. But I thought Floyd lost the bout. I had Marcos Maidana winning seven rounds. He was much busier than his over-hyped lethargic opponent. Plus he landed the heavier shots. However, nobody listens to me. I'm merely a voice in the wilderness.
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 take away my bitterness toward my fellow human beings. Sometimes, I look at people and want to puke. That's not good.
I went to bed at 10 p.m. I forgot to record my dreams. I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank several cups of coffee. Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break. Peaches Geldoff died of a heroin overdose. She was twenty-five-years-old. The model/writer left behind two young children.
I turned on Fox News. Naughty Vladimir Putin is still causing havoc in the Ukraine. The problem has no resolution. Too many German fat-cats are making tons of money dealing in Russian natural gas. Therefore, meaningful sanctions are off the table.
Anyway, it's time for the song du jour. Here's South Side by Moby. God bless.