Don't Ask Me

 

(I've never had any luck with women.)

Yesterday, I had a big bowl of gumbo soup for dinner. It was filled with sausage and shrimp. The Dragon Lady also served hot rolls with the meal. I ate five of them which left me feeling very guilty. I don’t like backsliding on my diet. After sucking down the food like a vacuum cleaner, I chewed several pieces of nicotine gum. I’m no longer a smoker, but I use the gum for weight-loss purposes. I guess you could say that I’m cheating.

I looked at the Dragon Lady. “Where’s Rice-Boy Larry?”

She said, “He went to da school.”

“Why? It’s Saturday.”

“He pray da soccah and da basketbawl with his fliends.”

“But he’s terrible at sports. He’s even worse than me.”

She shrugged. “It not mattah. It good exercise. So why you comprain?”

I nodded. “That’s true. It will keep him in shape.”

Korean kids always hang out at school…even during their vacations. The studying never stops on the peninsula. The citizens take academics quite seriously. Yet I would caution you not to applaud their dedication too vigorously. Sometimes, they tend to go a tad overboard. For instance, many of the children only sleep three or four hours a night. In my opinion, that’s torture. But what do I know?

I went to my room and switched on the NBA. I watched the game between Brooklyn and Boston. The Celtics had a 28-point lead, and then they suddenly shit the bed. The Nets charged back and ended up emerging victorious. Mikal Bridges is really thriving at his new home. He’s turning into a scoring machine since leaving Phoenix.

One of the guys who reads this blog says that my basketball stories are boring. He thinks that I should leave them out. But sports are a huge part of my life. To me, they are similar to psychiatric medicine. When I view my favorite teams, I forget about my problems for a few hours. A game a day keeps the Prozac away.

Later, I turned on Netflix and watched the final episode of Red Rose. It turns out that the true villain of the series is an unhinged female computer nerd who couldn’t fight her way out of a paper bag. This series started out as an entertaining horror story. Unfortunately, it morphed into a ridiculous far-fetched tale about girl power. Who’s got the time for that kind of bullshit?

I eventually went to bed at midnight and slept like a corpse. Then I woke up at 8 a.m. and drank a cup of coffee. Trump was on Fox News giving a riveting speech to CPAC. He hit all the right notes and fired several shots at Ron DeSantis. Ron decided not to attend the event—which is pretty smart on his part. Taking on Orange Donald in front of a rabid crowd would amount to political suicide.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

She said, “Nurse Ken brought that girl home again last night.”

I said, “You don’t like her?”

She shook her head. “Something is rubbing me the wrong way.”

“Can you give any specific examples?”

“No. It’s just my intuition. I think she might be unhinged.”

I sighed heavily. “Like father like son, right?”

She threw up her hands in a sign of surrender. “The thought never crossed my mind.”

As I said in an earlier blog post, I’m simply not qualified to give advice on women. I’ve never had any luck with them romantically, and they’ve only brought me pain. I’ve been married for nearly twenty-five years, and I often have to fight the urge to jump out the window to my death. But hey. That’s just me.