(Rick Perry is out of money.)
Yesterday, I made beef for dinner. I also cooked up some fried rice with eggs. My eldest son loved the meal. There wasn't a morsel left on his plate. I'm becoming a real Martha Stewart. I washed the vittles down with two large plastic bottles of Cass beer. I enjoy drinking suds, but I must cut down on my consumption. I'm morbidly obese. If I get any larger, I won't be able to fit out the front door.
I watched the final episode of True Detective. Season two is absolute trash. Don't bother wasting your time. Vince Vaughn and Colin Farrel end up dying. Vaughn is stabbed by an angry Mexican and keels over in the desert. Colin, on the other hand, is shot several times in a redwood forest. The two women in their lives escape to South America and raise a child together. The end.
I paid homage to the Christ God. I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees. No big surprise. I'm not some filthy pagan. I asked Jesus to give me a little bit of peace in my tumultuous life. The exorcist is coming today. His visit probably won't do any good. But I appreciate his efforts. He does all this for free. He's a very caring person.
I went to bed at 11 p.m. I didn't dream. I woke up at 7 a.m. and turned on my laptop. Rick Perry's campaign is running out of money. His workers in several states are no longer getting paid. I guess they're helping the Texas governor out of a sense of duty. That's very commendable. Nevertheless, Perry just isn't presidential material. He's not a dumb guy. But he speaks as if he's chewing on a mouthful of shit. Ronald Raven, indeed.
I read the paper later in the day. A drunken college student in a small Korean city went bonkers. He broke into a sushi restaurant and stabbed the elderly owners to death. The young man was apprehended without pants. He claims he can't remember what happened. That's quite a night. If I were king of the world, I'd throw this reprobate off a cliff.
Anyway, it's time for the song du jour. Here's Loser by Beck. God bless.