Monday, September 28, 2015

Monday

 (Josh Barnett gets a victory in Japan.) 

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady brought a pizza to my hospital room.  She charged me eighty dollars for the service.  Everything she does costs me money.  Nevertheless, the vittles tasted wonderful.  I'm getting by on one meal a day.  I desperately needed the nutrition. The woman hates me with a passion.

I browsed the internet for mail order brides.  There are a couple of twenty-year-old girls from Vietnam who are capturing my interest.  I'm still a man with a lot of love to offer.  I have no plans to roll over and die. Perhaps taking a young spouse would be good for my soul.  It's better than constantly getting kicked in the nuts.

I watched the UFC.  The main event was quite satisfying.  Josh Barnett and Roy Nelson beat the hell out of each other for twenty-five minutes.  However, Barnett was the busier man by far.  At the end of the fight, both were so tired that they could barely stand.  Josh won a unanimous decision.  I never grow bored with  mixed martial arts.  The violence is quite thrilling.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some filthy atheist.  I asked Jesus to restore me.  I'm a bit down on my luck.  But bouncing back is my specialty.  I can't be bothered with morbid self-reflection.

I went to bed at 2 a.m.  Sleeping on a strange mattress is for the birds. Plus two of my roomies are oldsters who keep the room hotter than a tropical aquarium.  To make matters worse, they fart and snore 24 hours a day.

I woke up at 7 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  The Pope came to America and visited with the victims of priestly sexual abuse.  I like Francis.  His predecessor tried to sweep all that shit under the carpet. Secrecy never works.  It's better to bring unpleasantness to the surface.  That way you can deal with it promptly.

I read the paper later in the day.  A man in Seoul threw acid in his girlfriend's face.  He was angry because she planned to break up with him.  The victim's face is covered in second-degree burns.  She's very lucky.  The doctors expect her scars to heal.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Don't Stop Believing by Journey.  God bless.

Friday, September 25, 2015

In the Hospital

(I'm in the hospital.)

I've been hospitalized.  I contracted a disease called cellulitis.  Talk about painful.  I can't even stand up.  I'm currently being bombarded intravenously with antibiotics.  But I'm hanging in there. In fact, my spirits are actually high.  I'm quite the stud.  Perhaps I'll blog tomorrow.  God bless.

Monday, September 21, 2015

Monday

(I stand with Ben Carson.)

Yesterday, I prepared fried chicken for dinner.  The meal was delicious.  The bird came out all crisp and salty and delicious.  I'm the king of poultry.  My eldest son raved about the meal.  He ate every last morsel on his plate.  I washed the vittles down with a bottle of Jinro soju.  The experience was marvelous.

I watched the latest Bellator matches.  The legend Tito Ortiz was submitted in the first round by the champion Liam McGeary.  Plus Phil Davis competed in the light heavyweight tournament.  He easily defeated his two opponents--one by submission and the other by knockout.  Nevertheless, Bellator is a pale imitation of the UFC.  It always fails to grab me by the walnuts.

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 wisdom.  I'm an old fat man who's been forsaken by his wife.  I know we'll get back together.  But I must be honest.  I'm having a wonderful time without her.  It's nice to go home to a peaceful apartment.  Should I feel guilty?  Probably.  After all, she's the mother of my children.  Oh well.  What's a boy to do?

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 6 a.m. and turned on CNN.  The liberal mouthpieces are shitting their pants over Ben Carson's recent comments.  Dr. Carson isn't thrilled with the idea of a Muslim president.  I'm in full agreement.  Islam's populated by knuckle-dragging neanderthals.  The thought of having a barbarian commander-in-chief fills me with dread.  I just hope the good doctor sticks to his guns.  No apologies are needed.  The silent majority is with you, Ben.

I read the paper later in the day.  A family of four on Jeju Island was found slaughtered in their home.  A mother and her two children were stabbed multiple times with a large kitchen knife.  The bodies were placed in their beds.  Meanwhile, the victim's husband was found hanging from the staircase.  The powers-that-be are certain that the case is a murder-suicide.  We live in a broken world tainted by sin.  There's nothing more to say.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Uptown Funk by Bambino.  She's quite a dancer.  God bless.

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Sunday

(Andy Van Hekken makes a lot of money.)

Yesterday, I prepared fried chicken for dinner.  I'm the reigning king of poultry.  The bird came out all crisp and salty and delicious.  My eldest son raved about the meal.  He ate every morsel on his plate. I washed the vittles down with two bottles of Jinro soju.  The experience was magical.

I watched baseball on the television.  The Nexen Heroes defeated the LG Twins 7 to 5.  Andy Van Hekken was the winning pitcher.  He used to pitch for the Detroit Lions.  But things didn't work out.  Now he makes $700,000 in the Korean League.  Nexen was well on their way to winning a championship.  However, they lost their stud shortstop to the Pittsburgh Pirates.  The team's currently mired in third place.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some filthy nihilist.  I thanked Jesus for sending me the gift of the Holy Spirit.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm still a son-of-a-bitch.  Nevertheless, I remain a child of God through His merciful grace.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I had a strange dream.  I attended a party with the actor Patrick Stewart.  We drank a beer together and made small talk.  Then I took a leak and pissed all over the toilet seat.  Patrick laughed out loud.  But the other guests were quite angry.

I woke up at 6 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  An elderly woman from Vicksburg, Mississippi, was raped in her home by two black thugs.  The victim is seventy-two-years-old.  To add insult to injury, they also stole her money.  I'm slowly beginning to see the value of the death penalty.  Do we need this type of sexually abusive vermin polluting our planet?

I read the paper later in the day.  Koreans are a very unhappy people--even though they make a lot of money compared to the world average.  They're forced to study long hours as children by their insane mothers.  Then they're expected to work like dogs as adults.  No wonder they frequently jump out of windows.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd.  God bless.

Friday, September 18, 2015

Friday

(The thug-life isn't for me.)

Yesterday, I made fried chicken for dinner.  It came out all crisp and salty and delicious.  However, I dipped the poultry in a sauce so spicy that it burnt my tongue.  I'm literally suffering from blisters inside of my mouth.  And they hurt like hell.  I washed the meal down with a bottle of Jinro Soju.  The whole experience was quite painful.

I didn't watch television.  I listened to music instead.  The Wall might be my all-time favorite album.  Pink Floyd with Roger Waters is the greatest band that ever formed.  I shook my man-tits and flabby ass to Mother, Comfortably Numb, and Hey You.  For a moment, I thought I was cool.  Then the truth hit me like a sack of bricks.  I'm old and obese.  Plus my teeth are slowly rotting away.  Oh well.  What's a boy 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 dirty pagan.  I thanked Jesus for my blessings.  I have two healthy sons and a warm place to sleep.  Everything else is just gravy.

I went to bed at eight p.m.  I had a strange dream.  I was using a portable toilet back at my old high school.  Suddenly, a gang of black teenagers tried tipping the structure over.  The rocking back and forth was so violent that I pissed on my trousers.  I'm afraid of African-American men.  When I see them walking down the street, I run with fear.  The thug-life just isn't for me.

I woke up at 6 a.m. and turned on my laptop computer.  A woman in Wisconsin murdered her three young children.  She shot them up with tranquilizers, and then she smothered them with blankets.  The deranged killer attempted suicide by stabbing herself several times with a knife.  Unfortunately, she's still alive.  If I were king of the world, I'd throw this witch off a cliff.  But who died and made me boss?

I read the paper later in the day.  A Korean man in Seoul kidnapped a woman in a department store parking lot.  He stabbed her several times.  After that, he placed her corpse in the trunk of the car and lit the automobile on fire.  He will probably spend the rest of his life in prison.  The peninsula has the death penalty, but it's mainly symbolic.  There hasn't been an actual execution since 1997.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's I Love My Shirt by Donovan.  God bless.

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Thursday

(Basic Christianity is a great book.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady came to my apartment.  She cleaned the place from top to bottom.  She's wonderful at keeping things all sanitary and sparkling.  She also prepared lamb for me and the Children of the Rice.  I'm not a huge fan of lamb.  I find the taste too gamy.  But I didn't complain.  I just smiled and ate my vittles.  I'm wonderful that way.

I spent the evening reading a book.  I'm currently enjoying John Stott's Basic Christianity.  This tome is a must for anyone who's feeling a tad empty.  I believe that most pagans sense a void in their lives. Stott gives a step by step account concerning The Savior and his role regarding humanity.  Some of you filthy atheists could benefit from Stott's insights.  Why spend your miserable lives worshipping the golden calf?  Trust me. There's no future in idolatry.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some misguided heathen.  I asked Jesus to watch over my kids.  Bluce has been feeling under the weather.  Not to panic.  He's just suffering from a normal childhood malady.  But these trifling afflictions can soon turn serious.  I spend most of my days paralyzed by fear.  I can't help myself.  A mind is a terrible thing.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 6 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  A woman in Georgia was sentenced to life in prison for murdering her granddaughter.  The little girl was beaten to death with a blunt object.  The victim was only three-years-old.  I go back and forth over the issue of the death penalty.  Some people are just plain bad.

I read the paper later in the day.  A Chinese man strangled a Korean woman with his bare hands. He left her corpse on the floor of her apartment.  Then he tried to commit suicide by jumping in the ocean.  Unfortunately, he was rescued by some diligent locals.  He will now spend the rest of his life behind bars.  Believe it or not, Korean prisons are very safe. I'd rather go to jail here than in the States. I wouldn't make it in an American penitentiary.  I'd get shanked within a week.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Baby Blue by Bad Finger.  God bless. 

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Wednesday

(Ahmed Mohamed was arrested in Texas.)

Yesterday, I made fish and rice for dinner.  My eldest son's getting a little tired of chicken, so I decided to change the menu.  I'll be honest.  The meal wasn't very good. I'm the king of poultry.  But my talent with fish just isn't there quite yet.  I need more practice.  I washed the vittles down with two bottles of Jinro soju.  It was a learning experience.

I didn't watch television.  I cooked French fries instead.  The fries were created completely out of scratch.  No store bought trash for me.  I smothered them in ketchup and salt.  They tasted heavenly.  I also snacked on three fried eggs with toast.  I enjoyed dipping the bread into the yoke.  Now that's living.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some dirty pagan.  Jesus is very egocentric.  He tells us that our lives should revolve around him as the earth revolves around the sun.  In other words, he's not a teacher.  He's not claiming to be a teacher.  His nature is divine. And I believe him.  What?  I'm going to argue with The Savior of the world?  I think not.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I had a strange dream.  I was in a train station, and I accidentally ripped some paper on the floor.  A Korean man screamed at me.  I asked him what his problem was? He threatened to beat the shit out of me.  Thankfully, some foreigners started yelling at him, and he ran away.

I woke up at 7 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  A fourteen-year-old Muslim boy named Ahmed Mohamed was arrested in Texas.  He constructed a homemade clock which resembled a bomb.  The police immediately took him away in handcuffs.  The liberal community is up in arms.  But I'm with the cops on this one. If someone named Ahmed is in possession of a suspicious device, then it's probably wise for the powers-that-be to question him.

I read the paper later in the day.  A Korean politician was expelled from his duties.  He's suspected of raping a 41-year-old woman in a hotel room.  There's an ongoing investigation into his guilt or innocence. We live in a broken world.  This kind of stuff happens all the time. For instance, I still believe that Bill Clinton is guilty of rape.  He certainly has loads and loads of sexual problems.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Poker Face by Lady Gaga.  God bless.  

Monday, September 14, 2015

Monday

(Officer Joseph Ponder was murdered by an angry black man.)

Yesterday, I prepared fried chicken for dinner yet again.  I'm quickly becoming the king of poultry.  But my eldest son didn't complain. He ate every last morsel.  I dipped the bird in spicy red pepper sauce.  My lips were on fire.  I washed the vittles down with two bottles of Jinro soju.  The experience was heavenly.

I watched The Ultimate Fighter.  This season features a contest between Connor McGregor and Uriah Faber.  Uriah's the coach of the Americans while McGregor is in charge of the European squad. The first episode is quite entertaining.  I like the banter between the two men.  Connor has always struck me as an arrogant dickhead. But I must be honest.  He comes across as a likable guy...when he isn't busy puffing his chest out.

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 save all the heathens.  I often find that atheists have a huge fear of the Creator.  That's why they fail to repent.  If they did, the Holy Spirit would kick them right in the nuts.  And then they'd be forced to reevaluate their miserable lives.  Change is tough. Who needs the hassle?

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 6 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  A state trooper in Kentucky named Joseph Ponder was savagely murdered by another angry black man. What's going on with the African-American community?  The children are illegitimate, and the neighborhoods are filled with crime. Furthermore, where is Al Sharpton?  I don't hear him shooting off his big mouth.

I read the paper later in the day.  A Korean woman drowned her five-year-old son in a bathtub.  She tied him up with duct-tape and held him under the water until he stopped breathing.  She initially told the police that his death was accidental.  But the powers-that-be quickly saw through her story.  Her motive was jealousy.  She claimed that the boy loved his father more than her. If I were king of the world, I'd burn this witch alive at the stake.  However, I'm just a aging clueless bumpkin.  What do I know?

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers by ZZ Top.  God bless.  

Sunday, September 13, 2015

Sunday

(Darren Goforth was murdered by a deranged black man.)

Yesterday, I prepared fried chicken for dinner.  Once again, the meal was a complete success.  My eldest boy ate every last morsel and praised me to the heavens.  Poultry is quickly becoming my specialty.  I washed the vittles down with two bottles of Jinro soju. The experience was divine.

I watched two episodes of Blunt Talk.  The show's absolutely marvelous.  Major Blunt has a man servant named Harry who is blessed with a horse-cock. Therefore, the Major loves to paint him in the buff.  The results are hilarious.  The well-hung butler is recruited to star in a porno film.  Unfortunately, sex makes him feel creepy. He's much happier when he's abusing drugs and alcohol. Blunt Talk is piss-your-pants funny.  Anyone who refuses to watch the series should be hanged by the neck until dead.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some dirty heathen.  I thanked Jesus for the many gifts he has bestowed upon me. For instance, I look wonderful in a suit.  Not many men my age can make that boast.  Plus I'm also gifted at preparing poultry.  Who could ask for more?

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 7 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  There was a Police Lives Matter march in Houston.  A sheriff named Darren Goforth was savagely murdered by a mentally deranged African-American.  You never hear Al Sharpton bitching about minority crime.  But let's be honest.  The black community's out of control.  Don't shoot the messenger.  I'm simply telling the truth.

I went to church.  The sermon focused on Ephesians.  Now that the Holy Spirit has come into my life, I should show proof of change. I really believe in my heart that my life has been transformed by God. Nevertheless, I'm still a son-of-a-bitch.  For instance, I like to drink from time to time.  Plus I miss cigarettes.  I try to remain positive by looking at myself as a work in progress.

I read the paper later in the day.  A Korean army sergeant was killed by a live grenade in Taegu.  He was training recruits at the time.  There are so many ways to die.  Explosions, gunshots, cancer, diabetes, falling off a cliff, getting hit by a bus, etc.  The best thing to do is spend your short life quivering with fear. It works for me.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's You Never Called Me by David Allen Coe.  God bless.     

Saturday, September 12, 2015

Saturday

(Rick Perry is out of the race.)

Yesterday, I took my eldest son to a restaurant.  We ate fifteen dollars worth of fried chicken.  The poor kid hates going with me. He thinks that I take to long.  He's probably right.  I washed the vittles down with a pitcher of Cass beer.  Cass is my favorite brand.

I read a book later in the evening.  The tome is called The Lost World of Genesis One.  The author's a hot-shot professor named John H. Walton.  John teaches the Old Testament at Wheaton College. Walton believes that Genesis 1 revolves around functionality rather than materialism.  

In other words, creation occurs when something actually begins to work as opposed to just being there materially. Therefore, the creation story isn't meant to be taken literally as science.  It's a metaphor about a functional relationship being established between the Creator and mankind. The book rocks.

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 thanked Jesus for being functional.  He gives me solace in times of trouble.  He restores my faith.  And He makes my life abundant and happy.  A guy couldn't ask for a better boss.

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 has decided to give up running for president.  That's a smart move.  Perry isn't as dumb as everybody thinks.  It's just that he talks as if he were chewing on a mouthful of shit.  It's hard to take him seriously due to his frequent verbal gaffs.

I read the paper later in the day.  A Korean man in Taiwan was recently taken into custody for snapping upskirt photos while walking behind a Chinese lady.  The crowd screamed bloody murder after his misdeed was discovered.  Luckily, the police showed up before the pervert was beaten to death.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Let 'em In by Paul McCartney.  God bless.

Friday, September 11, 2015

Friday

(Soju is tasting better and better.)

Yesterday, I prepared fried chicken for dinner.  The bird came out all crisp and salty and delicious.  I'm a huge fan of poultry.  It's both cheap and tasty.  My sons raved about the meal.  They ate every last morsel on their plates.  I washed the vittles down with two bottles of Jinro soju.  I'm starting to enjoy the flavor of soju more and more with each passing day.

I didn't watch television.  I read a book instead.  I polished off the final chapter of The Shining.  I've read the novel a million times.  But it's one of my favorites.  Desperation can lead men straight down an evil path.  Jack Torrence has run out of chances.  His failure at the hotel leads to bloodshed.  I appreciate King's early novels.  He stayed out of politics and focused on things that go bump in the night.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big deal.  I'm not some dirty nihilist.  I asked Jesus to protect my friend's child.  The poor boy's suffering from pneumonia.  Pneumonia is actually one of the biggest killers on the globe.  The disease claims many lives each year.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 6 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  There was a gruesome crime scene in an affluent neighborhood in Minnesota.  An entire family was slaughtered by their crazed father.  He ran a nursing website.  The lunatic killed himself after performing the ghastly deed.  Perhaps he had money problems.  Some people just aren't good at handling stress.

I read the paper later in the day.  The peninsula has a huge suicide rate among the nation's teenage population.  These poor kiddies are pushed and pushed by their tiger mothers until they eventually snap.  Some choose to throw themselves out of windows.  Psychiatrists now believe that there's a link between lack of sleep and self-destructive behavior.  No shit, Sherlock.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Iron Maiden.  God bless. 

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Wednesday

(Deep Purple rocks.)

Yesterday, I prepared fried chicken for dinner.  The bird came out all crisp and salty and delicious.  My children raved about the meal. They ate every last morsel.  Poultry's a big hit in my humble abode.  It's delicious and affordable.  I washed the vittles down with two bottles of Jinro soju.  Soju's dirt cheap and gets the job done.

I didn't watch television.  I listened to Deep Purple instead.  I love the band very much.  I saw the original lineup back in 1985 on their Perfect Strangers tour.  I had to sleep outdoors to get front row tickets.  I was only sixteen back then.  I still had all my teeth.  I'll be dead soon.  I'll probably die of ass cancer.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some dirty misanthrope. American football's starting soon.  I'm a huge fan.  The violence thrills me.  I asked Jesus to protect the players during the season. I have great faith.  With God, anything is possible.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 7 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  A woman in Waco, Texas was pulled over for speeding.  The cops found a shitload of crank in her car.  On the way to jail, the powers-that-be discovered a loaded .22 revolver hidden in her vagina.  We live in a world broken by sin.

I read the paper later in the day.  Korean parents are no longer allowed to hit their children.  Corporal punishment of any sort is now officially a criminal act.  But things won't change.  Koreans have been beating the hell out of their children for five thousand years.  And they aren't about to stop just because the government tells them to.  I don't believe in violence.  It makes people mean and angry.

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

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Tuesday

(Hell On Wheels is one of my favorites.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady came to my apartment.  She cleaned the place from top to bottom and dropped off some lamb for dinner.  I'm not a huge fan of lamb.  It's far too gamey.  But I didn't complain.  I just smiled and ate my food like the village idiot.  I washed the vittles down with a bottle of Jinro soju.  Soju sucks, but it gets the job done.

I watched the season finale of Hell On Wheels.  Brigham Young is nearly stabbed to death by his youngest boy.  But the Swede manages to gallop away on a stolen horse.  He's decided to get his vengeance by slaughtering Bohannon's wife and child.  I'm a huge fan of Hell On Wheels.  The series is fabulous.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some dirty pagan.  I asked Jesus to help the youth in Asia.  These poor children are constantly under the gun.  Their societies are hyper-competitive, and they never get enough sleep because their crazy mothers make them study 24 hours a day.  Lots of Asian kids end up jumping out of windows.  The stress is unbelievable.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 7 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  A fireman in Los Angeles murdered his wife with a handgun.  She was actually a deputy sheriff.  He then drove to a secluded location and blew his brains out.  I might be a selfish bastard.  But stories like this make me feel better about my marriage. Perhaps there's hope.

I read the paper later in the day.  A Korean man was sentenced to three years in prison for trying to kill his wife.  He accused her of having an affair and laced her food with poison. He also tried to put poison on her genitals.  We live in  a strange broken world.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Suicide Is Painless by Marilyn Manson.  God bless.

Monday, September 7, 2015

Monday

(Demetrious Johnson retains his title.)

Yesterday, I made fried chicken for dinner.  It turned out all crisp and salty and delicious.  I eat a lot of poultry.  Bird is both cheap and delicious.  My eldest boy enjoyed the meal.  He ate every morsel on his plate.  I washed the vittles down with a single bottle of Jinro soju. I'm trying to cut back on my alcohol intake.

I watched the UFC.  The main fight on the card featured Demetrious Johnson defending his title against John Dodson.  The match wasn't competitive.  Johnson was much too fast for his foe.  He peppered Dodson with kicks and punches for the duration of the five rounds to win a unanimous decision. Jon Jones is easily the best pound for pound fighter in the world.  But Demetrious could very well be number two.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some dirty misanthrope. I asked Jesus to look after the refugees.  That kid's body on the beach really broke my heart.  I can't imagine what his parents are going through. On the other hand, accepting boatloads of Muslims into one's country could certainly change the culture for the worse.  It's a tough issue.  God's will be done.

I went to bed at 10 p.m. I dreamed about going on a date with a girl named Elaine.  She had short blonde hair and appeared rather butch.  The date didn't go well. She walked out on me.  Then I met the actress Maria Alonzo while walking across a railroad track.  She treated me as if I were a prince.

I woke up at 6 a.m. and turned on my laptop. Police found the remains of an infant in Chicago.  The child's left foot floated to the surface of a lagoon in Garfield Park. The powers-that-be soon found a pair of small hands and a decapitated head.  The remains are so badly decomposed that the kid's true identity may never be learned. We live in a world broken by sin.

I read the paper later in the day.  A Korean woman wrote an editorial about Americans.  She said we're friendly but that we don't make good friends.  She seems to think we're a shallow lot.  I disagree.  Americans rock.  By contrast, Koreans are generally miserable.  In fact, the peninsula has the highest suicide rate in the OECD. 

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Punch the Clock by Elvis Costello.  God bless.     

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Sunday

(That's quite a pillow fight.)

Yesterday, I made fried chicken for dinner.  The meal was fantastic. I smothered the poultry in this super-hot black pepper sauce.  My eldest son was quite impressed.  He ate every last morsel.  I washed the vittles down with a bottle of Jinro soju.  The experience was marvelous.

I watched the first episode of Blunt Talk.  The show's hilarious. Major Blunt is nabbed by the Los Angeles police for hiring a transsexual prostitute.  He doesn't want to have sex with her. Rather, he only wishes to suckle on her breasts like a baby.  He then proceeds to assault several cops--even rupturing the testicles of one poor officer.  I'm giving this series my highest review.  It's laugh-out-loud funny.  So far.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some filthy nihilist.  I asked Jesus to keep my family intact.  I honestly believe that the damaged relationship between the Dragon Lady and my oldest son will mend slowly.  She just has to accept the fact that he isn't Korean. He has no interest in math or science.  Perhaps he will enlist in the United States Air Force.  Those men are smart guys who hate books and exercise.  James-uh would fit into that culture in no time.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 7 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  The annual pillow fight at West Point got out of hand.  A bunch of students ended up with broken bones and concussions.  It seems that some of the cadets were placing heavy objects in their pillow cases.  Boys will be boys.  I used to be a wrestler in high school.  We were vicious to one another.

I read the paper later in the day.  Couples in Korea are killing each other more frequently these days.  Fighting between the sexes can quickly get out of hand.  We all remember when Ray Rice knocked his girlfriend cold with a single punch.  When stuff starts to get violent, it's just best to make an exit.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Hurt by Nine Inch Nails.  God bless.

Saturday, September 5, 2015

Saturday

(Tom Brady's a cheater.)

Yesterday, I took my eldest son to a restaurant.  We ate fifteen dollars worth of friend chicken.  The poor kid had a miserable time. He says that I don't eat fast enough.  He's probably right.  I washed the vittles down with a pitcher of Cass beer.  Cass is my favorite brand.  The experience was heavenly.

I watched an episode of Strain.  The program's quite gross.  Little blind spider children are roaming the streets of New York.  They're too fast to be hit by bullets.  Plus they can rip your face off with their giant tongues.  The best way to kill them is to blow their little heads off.  But it's nearly impossible to get them to stand still. Strain is OK.  I've seen worse shows.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some dirty nihilist.  I asked Jesus to help the Dragon Lady.  She literally has no control over her emotions.  One minute she's laughing, and the next she's crying. I rarely call these days. Her hateful shrieking sends chills down my spine.  Poor old Smith is a basket of nerves.

I went to bed at 11 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 10 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  Tom Brady's suspension has been lifted.  The NFL simply didn't present enough evidence to sway the judge.  But let's be honest.  Brady and the entire Patriots organization are low-down cheaters.  They've been caught before.  And mark my words. They'll get caught again.

I read the paper later in the day.  Female sailors in Korea are now allowed to serve on submarines.  The world's moving too fast for my taste. Fags can get married.  Women can become pastors. And even lady-boys can get their own reality shows.  Will the madness never end?

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's My Best Friend's Girlfriend by The Cars.  God bless.

Friday, September 4, 2015

Friday

(Kim Davis remains in jail.)

Yesterday, I prepared fried chicken for dinner.  The bird came out all salty and crisp and delicious.  My boys raved about the flavor.  They ate every last morsel on their plates.  I'm nearly as talented as Colonel Sanders.  I washed the meal down with two bottles of Jinro soju.  The experience was heavenly.

The Dragon Lady came to the apartment to pick up Bluce.  She bought James-uh a new pair of shoes and a sleeping bag. Then she tried to charge him $400.  My wife knows that he has no money.  She does this kind of shit to pick a fight.  The woman's addicted to rage and chaos.  It's probably some kind of chemical problem.  I just keep hoping that the meds will finally kick in.  What else can I do?

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some filthy misanthrope. I thanked Jesus for all the gifts I've been given.  I have two healthy sons.  Plus I have plenty to eat.  Things could be a lot worse.  At least I'm not a Pygmy living in the jungles of Chad.  That would truly suck ass.

I went to bed at 10 a.m.  I had a strange dream.  I was forced to go on a picnic with a bunch of strange Russian men.  They kept asking me if I owned any firearms.  I told them that I used to have a .357 Magnum that I kept for protection.  They all laughed and applauded.  They loved me.

I woke up at 6 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  Kim Davis is still in jail.  She's a clerk from Kentucky who's refusing to validate gay marriages.  I'm personally against homos tying the knot.  But I'm not losing any sleep over the matter.  What do I care if a couple of fairies decide to play house?  I've got other fish to fry.

I read the paper later in the day.  A child in middle school set off a bomb in Seoul.  Luckily, the other students were out of the classroom at the time.  The police questioned the little lunatic.  He said that he wanted to be famous like the Virginia Tech shooter.  If I were king of the world, I'd throw this troublemaker in jail for a long long time. Society has enough problems without a teenage maniac running loose.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Sailing Shoes by Robert Palmer.  The Meters are his backup band. God bless.

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Thursday

(Amanda Peterson became a junkie and died.)

Yesterday, the Dragon Lady came to my apartment when I wasn't home.  She cleaned it from top to bottom.  After that, she did the laundry.  She also left dinner on the kitchen table for me and my boys--a large pepperoni pizza from Dominoes.  It was delicious. We washed our vittles down with several glasses of generic cola.  The experience was wonderful.

I didn't watch television.  I listened to Black Sabbath instead.  I'm a huge fan of Ozzy Osbourne.  He keeps me entertained.  I shook my flabby ass to Paranoid and Iron Man.  My man tits jiggled north to south and east to west.  For a moment, I thought I was cool.  Then reality came sweeping across my soul like an icy wind.  I'm an unattractive old man with rotting teeth and creaking bones.  What a bummer.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some dirty pagan.  I asked Jesus for wisdom.  I only have an IQ of 120.  That makes me about as intelligent as the average dolphin.  Life's far too complex for a moron like me to navigate.  I need celestial help.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 6 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  Amanda Peterson died from a drug overdose. Amanda was a film star back in the eighties.  She was quite the cutie.  But dope got the better of her.  The poor girl became addicted to prescription medication--which seems pretty common in this day and age.  This is how she looked before she passed away:

 
 
I read the paper later in the day.  A popular Korean actor was nabbed for smoking crank. He was sentenced to a year in jail.  He also has to pay a $700 fine.  The prosecution was bitterly disappointed.  They requested a two-year term in the slammer. I stay away from drugs.  However, I'm quite partial to alcohol.  Therefore, I try not to judge.
 

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Wednesday

(I'm not sure if I believe in the death penalty.)

Yesterday, I prepared fried duck for both my sons.  The meat was smothered in hot sauce.  The kids ate every last morsel.  They couldn't stop raving about my talent.  I'm a real Betty Crocker.  I washed the vittles down with two bottles of Jinro soju.  Soju's dirt cheap and gets the job done.

I watched an episode of Mad Men.  I'm currently on season four.  The agency loses the Lucky Strike account, and this leads to more clients jumping ship.  So Don gets his girlfriend to break the law.  She's currently giving him inside information to get more business.  Mad Men is a great show. I love the program.

I paid homage to the Christ God.  I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees.  No big surprise.  I'm not some filthy nihilist.  I asked Jesus to make the Dragon Lady whole again.  I hate being single.  I need someone to cook and do my laundry.  Plus it's important for children to enjoy a strong family unit.  Divorce sucks. I just hope that her meds can control all that rage.

I went to bed at 10 p.m.  I didn't dream.  I woke up at 6 a.m. and turned on my laptop.  Missouri executed one of its death-row inmates.  The man in question raped and killed a fifteen-year-old girl.  Then he dumped her body in the trunk of a stolen car.  I'm not sure where I stand on capital punishment.  Some days, I'm for it.  Other times, I'm against it.  I go back and forth.

I read the paper later in the day.  A Korean man was arrested for dragging his dog behind his car for a distance of one kilometer.  He was punishing the poor little beast for running away.  Most Koreans have little regard for animals.  They still cook puppies for their evening meal.  No kidding.

Anyway, it's time for the song du jour.  Here's Had a Dream by Roger Hodgson.  God bless.