The MAGA Crowd

 

(The media is full of shit.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 8 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. There’s a guy named Dr. Scott Shepherd who works in Seoul at Chongshin University as an English professor. Dr. Shepherd is a cunning linguist who speaks Korean fluently. Good for him. That’s quite an accomplishment. I can barely utter a word of this language.

Anyway, he went out with his buddies for a few beers, but the lounge barred his entry because of his white skin. The man at the door told him that foreigners were not allowed inside. Needless to say, he’s hurt and angry over the situation. In response, he wrote an opinion piece in the local paper to describe his outrage. Quite frankly, I couldn’t care less. The peninsula is loaded to the gills with bars. If one of them kicks you out, you can walk two minutes down the road and find another that will let you in. There’s no point in getting all hot and bothered. But he’s a young passionate man with ideals whereas I’m more of a bitter realist. So what’s a boy to do?

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. There was a terrible shooting spree in Ohio which claimed the lives of five people from Honduras. One of the victims was an eight-year-old boy. They were all murdered with a .223 rifle. The suspect is a Mexican national who currently lives in Texas. In other words, this story has no legs and will soon be forgotten by the media. Why? Because the talking heads have no interest in crimes that aren’t committed by the MAGA crowd.

Dolly the dog kept licking my toes, and I squealed and giggled like a schoolgirl. Then I rolled a sock into a ball and played fetch with the little beast. This puppy has brought a great deal of joy into my life. I’m completely in love with her. The bichon frise is a breed that can live for nineteen years, and I’m a geezer with one foot already in the grave. Perhaps we can die together of old age. Nothing would make me happier. Maybe we can even share a casket. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

I said, “How’s your urinary-tract infection? Are you going to live?”

She nodded. “I feel much better today.”

I clapped my hands together joyously. “That’s great. You had me all worried. Is this a miraculous healing? Yesterday, you were on death’s door.”

“I started drinking a lot of water. I must have been dehydrated.”

“Have you been taking your medication?”

“Yes, I do it first thing in the morning.” She changed the subject. “Are you still on your diet?”

“I don’t even consider it a diet anymore. I’ve gotten used to it. It’s more of a lifestyle change.”

“Aren’t you afraid that you might gain the weight back?”

“It won’t happen in a million years. I was so fat that I couldn’t fit into my stretchy pants. Did you know that I’ve been forced to buy my wardrobe at one of the local fish markets?”

“They sell clothes at the fish market?”

“Yes. For fat people. I shit you not. They sell lots of stuff at the fish market that isn’t related to seafood. Cigarettes. Alcohol. Rice. Candy.”

She laughed and laughed and laughed.

Later in the day, I watched the Yankees. They lost to the Texas Rangers by three runs. Half of New York’s team is out of the lineup due to injuries. It’s a real pain in the ass.

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(Give my message board a try.)

Abandoned by God

(Romans 1 sheds a lot of light on the insanity of American society.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. South Korea used to be a dictatorship, and one of their strongmen was a guy named Doo-hwan Chun. As you can imagine, he wasn’t the nicest guy in the world, fleecing the people out of millions upon millions of dollars. Anyway, the late Doo-hwan has a grandson named Woo-won. And Woo-won is a complete mess. He was caught red-handed using lots of drugs in America, and he even bragged about it on YouTube. Consequently, he’s now being prosecuted by the South Korean government for his crimes.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. I was surprised to learn that 25 percent of American high school students currently identify as either gay or bisexual. That’s a crazy number. One could even call it mass hysteria and collective mental illness. At first, I blamed this new stat on pornography. But porn has been around for a long time, and it never turned most of its viewers into sexual libertines. Back in my day, people enjoyed it, jerked off, and got on with their lives. So what’s the problem? You can find the answer in Romans 1 in the bible. We’re a nation that has been abandoned by God, and this is one of the symptoms. Think I’m joking? Then sit down and read the epistle. Paul spells it out in black and white.

I called my mom using Facebook Messenger.

She said, “I’m a little worried.”

I said, “Why?”

“I have another urinary-tract infection, and the ailment led to my first stroke.”

“Should you go to the emergency room?”

“Well, I’m not slurring my words, so I’m going to hold off for a bit. The emergency room is awful. It’s filled with all types of bacteria and viruses.”

I sighed heavily. “Are you supposed to wait for the slurred speech? Doesn’t it make more sense to get treated before that actually happens?”

Mom laughed. “I guess you’re right. I’ll see how I feel after I eat.”

“Well, could you keep me updated. Sometimes, you don’t answer the phone. I have to keep calling and calling.”

“That only happens when I’m away from my phone. I’m often in the backyard. It needs to be cut.”

“Make Nurse Ken do it.”

“I asked, but he’s not available until Monday. He’s working at the pizza place.”

“Yeah, but it will only take 30 minutes.”

“Everything is fine. The sky isn’t falling.”

My day at work went well. I managed to view the Yankees game during my downtime. They defeated the Rangers by two runs. But the team isn’t very impressive these days. Too many people are hurt. That’s the thing about sports. Everything depends on health. If the stars get injured, the squad is screwed.

I also started reading The Color Purple by Alice Walker. I’m currently on page 80. I have to tell you guys the truth. So far, I’m loving it. The novel is depraved. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a huge fan of depravity, but it makes for interesting story telling.

Later in the evening, I switched on The Chosen by clicking on angel.com. All the episodes are completely free, and the show is a masterpiece. Only an idiot would refuse to watch it.

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(Give my message board a try.)

The Message Board

(Lend me your ears.)

Good citizens of Metropolis! I have some wonderful news. I've decided to start a message board. You can find it at this address. And you don't even have to register to start sharing your thoughts and feelings. Isn't that marvelous? But if you say anything too stupid, then I will erase your post. Just letting you know because most of you thugs are fuckheads and retards. I hope to see you there.

Explosions and Gunshots

(Tell all your friends to watch The Chosen.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. Six South Korean soldiers stationed in Yeoncheon were caught smuggling drugs into their garrison. In the early morning hours, they would smoke grass with their buddies in the shower. They also ate cannabis that came in the form of capsules. Drugs are a huge no-go here on the peninsula. Even marijuana will earn you time in prison. In fact, many people who are brought up on narcotics charges get longer jail sentences than rapists and murderers. I kid you not. If you ever decide to visit Asia, it’s a good policy to leave your bongs back at home.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. The city of Portland is giving property rights to the homeless encamped in public spaces. In other words, the bums will be allowed to live in the parks without the threat of being arrested by the police for vagrancy. They are also permitted to keep their shopping carts and make-shift tents. Big Brother will no longer clear these items off the sidewalk. Homelessness is a tough issue for me. I wouldn’t want some derelict sleeping in front of my house. Yet where are they supposed to go? It’s not like we can throw them off a cliff. They’re human beings after all.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

She said, “Nurse Ken got sent home from work.”

I shook my head and sighed. “Did he fuck up again?”

“No, he kept on vomiting . It was putting the customers off their food.”

“Is he OK?”

“He’s upstairs sleeping as we speak. Should I wake him up?”

“Better not. Let him rest, and we’ll see how he is in the morning.”

Mom changed the subject. “I talked to your sister. She seems much happier. She now even claims that she’s going to keep teaching to her 30^th year in order to collect the full retirement.”

“That’s great. She’s stronger than me.”

And this is true. I could only handle five years in the American public school system. It was driving me completely batshit. Thirty years of educating those brainless hooligans sounded like a prison sentence rather than a job to my ears. I don’t know how teachers do it. I’d rather get a gig at the Waffle House. I shit you not.

I got to work at 8 a.m. and enjoyed a few YouTube videos during my downtime. One of them was by a young conservative Christian named Brylan Riggs. Brylan and his wife can be seen badmouthing The Chosen in this clip. They even claim that the show is satanic. Well, in my humble opinion, they can both take a flying fuck at a rolling donut. The Chosen rocks and is being used by God as a great tool to get people interested in Jesus. I’ve got nothing against Brylan and his old lady, but they sound like a couple of joyless, dry-as-bones Pharisees. Stop with the lectures, and start with the love.

My day at work went well. We finished reading Thank You, M’am by Langston Hughes. The kids thought it was boring, yet I really like that story a great deal. I told the children that not everything can revolve around explosions and gunshots. But they were having none of it, demanding to read more tales similar to The Most Dangerous Game and A Sound of Thunder.

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Losing Weight

 

(Soon, I'll be a skeleton.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. North Korean leader Kim Jong-un has a chubby little daughter named Ju-ae. She attends a lot of events with her fat daddy. You can always see them holding hands. Anyway, according to South Korean intelligence, Ju-ae isn’t very popular within her own nation. Many of the citizens have to scrabble just to eat a couple meals a day, and they’re tired of seeing the princess dressed in her expensive fashionable clothes. On top of that, the teen enjoys expensive hobbies, such as horseback riding and skiing. But this news isn’t a huge surprise. North Korea is run by gangsters, after all.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. Don’t be too harsh in your opinion of me. I know that Tucker got fired, yet I simply can’t stomach the sodomites over at CNN. So what’s a boy to do? Anyhow, a 59-year-old Uber Eats driver from Holiday, Florida, was murdered by a man named Oscar Solis. Oscar is a member of the infamous gang MS-13. He pulled the driver into his home, murdered him, and then dismembered his body. After that, he stuck the bits of flesh and bone into garbage bags and deposited them in the trash. But here’s the kicker. This scumbag served time in Indiana and had a history of assaulting both the inmates and the staff. Nevertheless, the-powers-that-be released him back upon society. Ain’t that a motherfucker?

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

I said, “Did you know that I’ve lost 45 pounds over the last six months?”

She clapped her hands joyfully. “That’s wonderful.”

“And yet I’m still a fat son of a bitch. It’s a bit disappointing.”

“How much more do you need to lose to reach your goal?”

“Another thirty-five pounds will bring me back to 180.”

“Are you constantly hungry?”

“Not really. The nicotine gum helps to curb my appetite.”

She sighed heavily. “Be careful with that stuff. It might be harmful over the long term.”

“I’ve got to pick my poison. If I remain obese, then my very life is under threat. Nicotine seems like a much better option.”

I got to work at 8 a.m. and shot the breeze with my co-worker Richard Hurtz. I’ve introduced you to him before. He’s the teacher with the Ivy-League education. Richard is also a great athlete who is nearly seven feet tall. The guy is truly a beast.

We discussed the upcoming school fair. I’m in charge of the wiffle ball activity. The kids will get five soft pitches, and if they manage to crack a homerun, I shall give them a piece of candy. If they hit several dingers, then the rewards shoot up.

I said, “I’m a little disappointed with my club.”

He said, “Why?”

“I asked the members to each purchase a three-dollar bag of candy, but they started bitching like a bunch of homosexual hairdressers.”

“They’re cheap, huh?”

“Cheap ain’t the word. You would have thought I was asking them for their first-born child.”

He chuckled deeply. “So what did you do?”

“I bought the candy myself.”

“How much did it run you?”

“Twenty-five bucks.”

Richard shrugged. “That’s not too bad. It’s not like it’s going to break the bank.”

“But I’m actually a broke dead dick. My wife doesn’t work, so my whole family is dependent on my paltry salary.”

He patted me playfully on the shoulder. “Save the complaining for your mommy. I’ve got my own problems.”

We laughed and laughed and laughed.

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Tell Me about It

 

(American cities are dangerous.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. There’s a professor of economics who works at the University of Chicago named Michael Kremer, and he’s actually a Nobel laureate. Anyway, Mike's encouraging the Korean powers-that-be to start importing immigrants in order to fight the decline in birthrates. In other words, Kremer is one of these assholes who supports the controversial policy of replacement. One of the best things about living here is the safety factor. I can literally walk anywhere in Seoul without the fear of getting my head busted to bits by thieves and angry Nubians. And now this jerk wants to ruin my good time. Well, in my humble opinion, Michael Kremer can go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched CNN. Tucker Carlson got fired by Fox News. And I’m not going to lie. I was so surprised that my jaw almost hit the floor. I’m in love with Mr. Carlson, and if I were a homosexual, I would be proud to call him my boyfriend. I enjoy his show immensely, and I never miss an episode. In fact, I view it religiously every day on YouTube during lunch while I’m eating my banana. However, I was surprised to learn that he only has half the audience of his predecessor Bill O’Reilly. So even though Tucker is the biggest name on cable TV, perhaps the bigwigs were hoping to get a little more bang for their buck. But what do I know?

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

I said, “Tucker got fired!”

She said, “That sucks. Everybody in the neighborhood is disappointed.”

“It makes no sense.”

“The world seldom does. Yet don’t get depressed over it. Carlson wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”

“Bullshit, Mom. I think that he would piss on me with a huge smile on his face. He’s simply that kind of guy.”

She shrugged. “What can you do?”

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m switching over to the sodomites at CNN.”

“Well, Fox still has Jesse Waters, so I’m staying.”

I frowned at her. “Jesse Waters? You can’t be serious. He only has a double-digit IQ. His very presence on network television is a slap on the face to all red-blooded Americans.”

“I think you’re going overboard.”

My day at work went well. I’m currently reading Thank You, M’am by Langston Hughes with the middle school. It’s about a would-be purse snatcher named Roger who messes with the wrong woman. But instead of turning him over to the cops, she takes mercy on the boy and gives him ten bucks to buy a pair of blue-suede shoes. It sounds pretty fucking stupid, yet the tale is not without its charms. Most writers worth their salt are dyed-in-the-wool libtards, so you have to cut them some slack.

I looked at the students. “If Roger had tried to steal my wallet, I would have given him my money and then immediately called the police.”

A girl named Sophie raised her hand. “Why on earth would you give him your cash?”

“Because the setting for this story is Harlem, and the last thing I need is to get shot in the head by a criminal.”

“Are there a lot of guns in Harlem?”

I sighed heavily. “More than you can possibly imagine. In fact, you have to possess a pistol in order to join a gang. It’s a prerequisite.”

“Why are gangsters allowed to carry firearms?”

“Because they vote democrat.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Tell me about it.”

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No Beef for Me

 

(I'm too poor to afford steak.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. Almost five percent of Koreans aged 19-38 are now considered shut ins. In other words, they live with their parents, spend most of their time locked away in their rooms, and refuse to look for gainful employment. I’m aghast with disbelief and horror. That’s a huge number of people suffering from acute mental illness. I had no idea that so many Koreans are completely fucked in the head. It frightens me.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. A couple of teens from Chicago stole a car and took it for a high-speed joyride. Unfortunately, they crashed into another vehicle and killed a six-month-old infant who was in the backseat. In the good old days, this would be considered first-degree murder because the death occurred while the culprits were in the act of committing a felony. But that logic is now dust in the wind. Instead, these assholes were charged with a misdemeanor. My opinion? The district attorney needs to be horsewhipped.

I talked to my mother using Facebook Messenger.

She said, “Nurse Ken is out by the pool studying for his HESI Exam.”

I said, “Is he real nervous?”

“I don’t think so. He says that if he does well, he’s going to visit you guys in Korea this summer.”

“I just hope that the army doesn’t force him to serve. We still get the occasional letter.”

Ken is a dual citizen. He’s both Korean and American. In the old days, he would have been allowed to give up his citizenship for an F-4 visa. It’s given to foreigners who possess the magic Korean blood. But too many people were gaming the system to avoid mandatory military service. With that said, I’m not too afraid. The last thing the government wants is an influx of white people wearing a uniform. It would make their heads spin. Race is a big thing here on the peninsula. It’s pretty much a homogenous society, and they want to keep it that way.

I said, “Don’t tell Ken about the letters. He might decide to stay in Texas.”

“I won’t. But don’t let him walk into a trap. If he’s forced into the army, he might never forgive you.”

“I’ll look into it. The last thing I want to do is fuck up his life.”

Later in the afternoon, I strolled to McDonald’s for lunch and met one of my friends. It’s great to live in a city like Seoul. Everything is within walking distance. Sometimes, I wonder why I even drive a car. Taking the bus is actually less stressful.

He said, “How are things at work?”

I shrugged. “I guess they’re going OK.”

“Anything new happening?”

“Not that I’m aware of. But I don’t really talk to anybody except for the kids.”

He smirked at me. “Are you a recluse or something?”

“It’s not that. I think it has something to do with my age. I’m an old geezer, so people tend to ignore me.”

“You aren’t that old. You’re only in your 50s.”

“Who are you kidding? In five years, I’ll be 60. That’s o-l-d, old.”

“Time flies, huh?”

“It sure does.”

I got home at 6 p.m. and ate dinner. The Dragon Lady served chicken with hot biscuits. The meal was good. I consumed every morsel, and I even licked the plate with my fat pink tongue. I eat a lot of poultry. I’m too freaking poor to afford beef.

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Soju and Onions

(I like living in Korea.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 8 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. The Korean language is catching on in Vietnam. In fact, it’s being offered as an alternative to English and Chinese throughout the local high schools. This shouldn’t come as a huge surprise. K-pop and K-dramas are taking all of Asia by storm. When I lived in Beijing, many of the Chinese teachers were studying Korean in order to have a better understanding of the popular television shows. On top of that, some Vietnamese ladies are looking for Korean husbands in order to improve their standard of living.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is accusing Tucker Carlson of promoting violence in America. She claims that his rhetoric is so inflammatory that it might lead to the death of innocent people. Of course, Ms. Cortez is completely full of crap. Like many libtards, you have to agree with her completely or you’ll be accused of a hate crime. For instance, I’m one of those old-fashioned assholes who doesn’t want to worship at a church filled with transvestites. So according Alexandria and her buddies, I’m just a filthy criminal who should be severely punished. Same old story, same old song and dance.

The Dragon Lady walked into the room. “You walk to da church today?”

I nodded. “Yes. I need the exercise.”

“You must buy da onion and da soju.”

“Soju? Are you planning to get drunk tonight?”

She frowned. “Are you da idiot? Of course I not get dwunk. I need it for da cook.”

And she wasn’t lying. My wife always uses that hooch in her recipes.

I said, “How many bottles?”

“Onry one.”

“OK. Not a problem. Soju and onions. Got it.”

“And ba-nah-nah.”

“Bananas, too?”

“Yes. Gleen ba-nah-nah. It foh you runch.”

I’m still on my diet. I only eat a piece of fruit at noon. Then I wait till the evening for dinner.

Later that afternoon, I left the apartment with Rice-Boy Larry by my side. We struck up a conversation as we strolled along the streets of Seoul. By the way, stretching your legs in this concrete jungle is no easy feat. I’m always afraid that an impatient driver will mow me down one fateful day.

I looked at my boy. “Do you know how to set up a PayPal account?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never done it, but I’m sure it can’t be too hard.”

“Do you need a bank account for it to work?”

“I’m not sure. Let me look it up on Google.”  He stared at his phone for about a minute as he surfed the web. “No, it says here that a bank account is not required.”

“What about a Bitcoin wallet?”

“A what?”

“A Bitcoin wallet.”

“I don’t know a thing about Bitcoin. I’m not even sure how you spend it. However, it’s probably not too difficult to set it up. If they made it tough, then it would hurt their business. We’d all be too stupid to use their products.”

I smiled at him. “You’re absolutely right. I never thought of it that way.”

The sermon was pretty solid. Our pastor is currently discussing The Book of Isaiah. He still believes that Korea is going to hell in a handbasket, and he has all kinds of negative stats to prove his point. But I disagree. I actually enjoy living on the peninsula. It’s free of crime, and the healthcare system rocks. Is it paradise? Of course not. Yet a guy could do a lot worse. I’m just happy that I wasn’t born in Djibouti. Praise Jesus.

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The Chosen

 

(I do my best to spread the word.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. Sixty-one homosexual men in Pusan were arrested for the consumption and distribution of dangerous drugs, including meth amphetamine. All of the suspects are tragically infected with AIDS due to their risky sexual behavior. The vast majority of Koreans aren’t exactly big on gay rights, and this story certainly doesn’t help the cause. Furthermore, those who use narcotics on the peninsula often receive huge jail sentences. So these guys are definitely facing significant time in prison. On the bright side, this country isn’t like Uganda or The Congo. They will definitely get the medication they need during their long period of incarceration.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. A television personality named Kat Timpf wrote a book about comedy. She says it’s important to laugh even when terrible things happen, such as the death of loved ones. Kat claims that she was cracking jokes 24 hours after the passing of her mother. It helped with her grief. Sadly, Fox is often nothing more than a giant circle jerk. The journalists interview each other and pimp their friends’ products over the air. I’m not a huge fan of the network, but it’s the only game in town. Where else am I going to run? CNN? No, thank you.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

She said, “Do you know how much your niece is paying for her college loans?”

I shook my head. “No, but I’m kind of guessing by your tone that it’s probably outrageous.”

“Outrageous isn’t the word.” She paused for dramatic effect. “$1,200 a month!”

“That’s terrible. The whole thing is a scam.”

“Talk about a rip off.”

“What gets me is that the government is involved in fleecing these children. It’s a sleezy fucked-up industry designed to bankrupt the citizens.”

“But you can’t go bankrupt. That’s the problem. It’s debt that follows you around like a ball and chain.”

“Nurse Ken is the smart one. His education has been completely free thus far.”

And this is true. Ken doesn’t go to a fancy private university. Nor does he live in a dorm. Rather, he attends a generic state college which is located close to his grandmother’s house. He gets a small church scholarship which covers the tuition, and he receives a poor-boy grant from the government that takes care of his books and expenses. Is he having wild times with his buddies? Probably not. But he’ll be debt free when he graduates. So, as long as he avoids doing something stupid, he should be able to live a pretty decent life.

Later that morning, I played with Dolly the dog. For those of you who are new to this blog, Dolly is a bichon frise with a sparkling personality. I threw a balled-up sock from the bedroom into the kitchen, and she kept bringing it back for a good fifteen minutes. Then she decided to take a nap. Dolly has huge bursts of energy throughout the day, but she also enjoys her sack time. She’s a wonderful little beast who brings me tons of happiness.

In the evening, I watched a show called The Chosen. It’s a drama about the ministry of Jesus Christ. This program is so good that it left me dumbfounded. I wish that I had the talent to write something so profound. Even if you’re a dirty atheist, you should definitely give it a try.

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It Burns My Breeches

(I hate being sick.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. Korea has a first lady named Keon-Hee Kim. Although most of the citizens on the peninsula find her repulsive, I think that she’s both physically beautiful and very stylish. She’s always rocking it in her Burberry ensembles and fancy shoes. Anyway, Keon-Hee loves puppies, and she wants Koreans to stop eating them. But there are many dog-meat farmers here on the peninsula who say that she needs to keep her mouth shut. Her rhetoric is putting them out of business. I’m ashamed to say that I’ve eaten man’s best friend on a few occasions back in 1997. In my defense, I was extremely drunk at the time.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. It turns out that Tony Blinken colluded with both the FBI and the CIA to bury the story about Hunter Biden’s laptop. There is also an IRS whistleblower waiting in the wings to report on the crimes of Senile Joe and his family. Yet I see the situation differently from most. Everybody knew that the Bidens were a bunch of crooks, and we also knew that Joe was taking inappropriate showers with his daughter back when she was twelve years old. But we voted for the creepy old pervert anyway. So, to my mind, we deserve everything we get. Elections have consequences.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

She said, “How is your novel doing?”

I said, “Not so good. I’ve only sold five copies so far.”

“Well, don’t give up. Maybe the next one will do better.”

“There won’t be a next one. I’ve decided to be a blogger instead.”

She shook her head. “I’m an old lady, son. I don’t even know what that means.”

“I’m eventually going to hook up a PayPal account and a Bitcoin wallet to my site. Then I’ll ask my users to donate ten bucks a year for the pleasure of reading my drivel.”

She laughed out loud. “Do you actually believe that those fuckheads and retards will give you a dime? What world are you living in? Hell, they won’t even spring for a dollar to buy your book. Those are some cheap assholes.”

“I think you’re right. I don’t expect a gigantic payday. But I may be able to make enough each month to purchase my nicotine gum.”

“Are you still chewing that crap?”

I nodded. “Yes, but it’s giving me terrible gas. My classroom often smells like a cage in a zoo.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Tell me about it.”

My day at work went well. A few of my students came down with Covid this week. But through the miracle of technology, I still taught them over the internet. I used Zoom so that they wouldn’t miss the lecture or the classwork.

One of the kids is named Johnny. He’s from Uzbekistan. He speaks three languages.

I said, “How are you feeling?”

He said, “My throat hurts.”

“Is this your first time fighting the disease?”

“No, I also had it about a year ago. I really hate the Chinese.”

“It wasn’t just China. America helped to fund that lab.” I paused for dramatic effect. “I’ve got some bad news, Johnny.”

“What?”

“If I catch Covid, I’m blaming it on you. Then I’m going to take ten Dojo points away from your total score. You’ll never have candy again.”

The class laughed and laughed. Yet I was being serious. I hate being sick. It burns my breeches.

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Bobby's Smack

 

(Bobby Kennedy is saying all the right things.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. Gagnam is an exclusive neighborhood located in Seoul. That’s where all the rich movers and shakers live. Don’t think of beautiful houses with manicured gardens. It’s not like that. Instead, imagine row upon row of concrete apartments as far as you can possibly see. In fact, it’s kind of unremarkable to the eyes. Anyway, three Gagnam teens have killed themselves in the span of the last five days by jumping out their windows to their deaths. It seems that they were struggling with the high academic expectations placed upon them by society.

Back when I was a kid, my grades were absolute crap. Nevertheless, my dad would give me money even if I made D’s and C’s. Most of my friends never studied, either. We were too busy playing basketball and football in our driveways and backyards to crack the books. American culture is completely different to that of our Asian counterparts. We truly don’t know how good we have it.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. Bobby Kennedy Jr. has thrown his hat into the ring for president. And I have to tell you people the truth. He’s singing my song. He wants to end the merger between state and corporate powers. Plus he thinks that the suicidal war in the Ukraine is a steaming pile of horseshit. And if that weren’t enough, he also believes that the carried-interest loophole which currently plagues the United States should be eradicated. Perhaps I’m naïve, but I’m really buying Bobby’s smack. It excites me. Even Orange Donald isn’t this radical.

I got to work at 8 a.m. and talked to one of my colleagues. His name is Richard Hurtz. He’s a huge man, standing close to seven-feet tall. Richard is a white man originally from Nigeria. I kid you not. You don’t meet many of those.

I said, “Have you read the new email?”

He frowned at me. “Can you be more specific? They send about 10,000 of those things a day.”

“The one about the club expo.”

Both of us sponsor after-school clubs. Mine is wiffle ball, and his is soccer.

He nodded. “It’s not that hard. All we have to do is set up a booth in the gym and give the kids a chance to play our sport and win prizes. I’m thinking about penalty shots. If you make five in a row, you get a piece of candy.”

“And who will be your goalie?”

He patted himself on the chest. “That would be me.”

Richard Hurtz is good at everything. He’s a smart guy from an Ivy-League school. On top of that, he can even slam dunk a basketball.

I rubbed my fingers through the stubble on my face. “I guess I could do a homerun derby. It might be fun for the children.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The rest of my day went well. I put the finishing touches on The Sound of Thunder by Ray Bradbury. Our next author is Langston Hughes.

I said, “Is Bradbury trying to send us a warning?”

The class remained silent.

I cleared my throat. “When I was a kid, one of my favorite songs was Godzilla by a group called Blue Oyster Cult. The lyrics cautioned mankind not to mess with nature.”

Nobody raised their hands, so I decided against beating a dead horse.

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Gabbing with the Kids

(I'm not a lonely boy.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. There has been a recent outbreak of monkey pox here on the peninsula. So far, eighteen cases have been reported. The vast majority of the infected are homosexual males participating in risky sexual practices. Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not a prude, and I realize that men are going to get their rocks off one way or another. But I wish that the gays would start wrapping their Johnsons in a raincoat to save the rest of us from suffering the aftermath of their debauched lifestyle choices. Am I being too harsh? I don’t think so. It comes down to good manners.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched the news on television. Fox has settled with Dominion. Roger Aisles will now have to pay the defamed company 761 million dollars to stay out of court. In my heart, I was hoping that the case would make it to trial. I feel that America has too many dirty little secrets that are being kept from the peasants like me. For instance, we never got to see the list of the elites who visited Pedophile Island. Nor was the manifesto of the deranged transvestite child killer in Tennessee made available to the public. The citizens have the right to know this kind of stuff. What happened to journalism?

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

I said, “How’s tricks back home?”

She said, “Things are going OK. I cut the grass this evening.”

I was shocked. “You cut the grass? Aren’t you a little bit too long in the tooth to partake in such a task? I mean, you’re seventy-six fucking years old.”

“But if I don’t do it, then it won’t get done.”

“What about Nurse Ken?”

“He’s busy studying for the Hesi Exam. And when he isn’t cracking the books, he’s slaving away at his job making pizzas for the general public.”

“He still hasn’t set up a phony Facebook account. That boy has been pissing me off lately.”

“I’d leave him alone right now. This test has him all stressed out.”

“Fair enough.”

I got to work at 8 a.m. and viewed the replays of some NBA games during my downtime. I especially liked the clip of Draymond Green stomping on the chest of Sabonis. Draymond has been suspended for his actions. However, former great Shaquille O’Neil says that Sabonis had it coming. O’Neil believes that grabbing Green’s leg was a dirty play deserving of extreme punishment.

My opinion? I side with the refs on this one. During the 90s and the early 2000s, basketball was shit. It was like viewing ice hockey on hardwood floors. In fact, the game was so physical that most teams couldn’t put 100 points on the board. I don’t want to see the sport return to its former infamy. I get enough violence with football and the UFC. Basketball should be about grace, skill, and athleticism.

I talked to a few of my students after one of my classes. They wanted to know about my oldest son.

I said, “He’s studying to be a nurse.”

One girl said, “That job pays a lot of money in America.”

I nodded in agreement. “They aren’t poor. That’s for sure.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Did you know that one of the most prolific serial killers in America worked as an RN in Kentucky? Netflix made two shows about him. A movie and a documentary.”

She shrugged. “That makes sense. Nurses can get their hands on lots of deadly medication.”

I really enjoy gabbing with the children. I never feel lonely.

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Don't Point Your Finger at Me

(I'm a five-point Calvinist.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. Lots of Korean parents are currently bemoaning the cost of private education in their country. Public school is free, but they pay a boatload of money for after-hour academies which allow their offspring to improve their math and English skills. Asians are very ambitious, so the sky’s the limit when it comes to junior’s future. In fact, moms and dads across this nation constantly dream that their kids will one day get accepted to Harvard. It’s enough to turn your stomach. I kid you not.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. Hundreds of black and Hispanic teens robbed a convenience store in Compton, California. They were so brazen that they even filmed themselves breaking the law and posted the video to social media. This unruly mob picked the place clean, stealing every item that wasn’t nailed down. The poor guy who works the cash register was forced to hide in a closet during the mayhem and only emerged after everybody had left the premises. The libtard mayor of Los Angeles says that she’s going to hire more cops. Good for her.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

I said, “How’s Sis doing? Is she still depressed?”

“Actually, she seems a little better. She even offered to move into my house in order to help me out.”

“What does she plan to do with her boyfriend?”

“He’s coming, too.”

“And when is this move taking place?”

Mom frowned. “Probably never. Sis wants me to kick Nurse Ken out of his room and make him live downstairs. Then she’ll move upstairs with Tucker.”

“Is that her friend’s name? Tucker?”

She nodded. “That’s right. Tucker.”

“I’m sure Ken doesn’t care if he lives downstairs.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to your son. That’s his place, and she has no right to take it from him.” She sighed heavily. “But who knows the future? Maybe Sis will come, and maybe she won’t. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

My day at work went well. I’m still reading The Sound of Thunder with the middle schoolers. We’re on the part where Eckels panics before shooting the dinosaur. He steps off of the path and kills the butterfly, changing the future of the planet forever. Another character named Travis is constantly giving Eckels a hard time. In fact, at the end of the story, Travis shoots Eckels right through the head.

I said, “Science is a double-edged sword. It has a ton of benefits, but it can also bring on tons of problems. Can you give me an example?”

Nobody said a word.

I said, “Think about this Covid nonsense. For the last three years, we’ve been forced to wear masks by the government. Lots of us also took a bunch of vaccinations to prevent us from coming down with the virus. Who caught the disease anyway?”

Just about every hand shot up in the air.

I smiled at them. “See that! You’re making my point for me. We all fell ill because a bunch of egg heads in a Chinese Lab decided to mess with Mother Nature. Heck, we’re lucky to still be alive.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Simply because some guy went to a fancy college and studied biology with the other nerds doesn’t mean that we have to trust him. He’s probably just another filthy skunk like most people in the world.”

The students frowned collectively. Perhaps I was laying it on a bit too thick. But I’m a five-point Calvinist, and we believe in the total depravity of humanity. It’s one of the tenants of my religion. So don’t blame me. Instead, point your greasy fingers at God. 

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Less Is More

(I'm a huge baseball fan.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. A teenager from Seoul met a 27-year-old man on an internet chatroom. Together, they formed a suicide pact. He took her for dinner and karaoke, and they discussed their shitty lives here on earth. After that, she jumped to her death from the 19^th floor of an apartment building, but he was too chickenshit to take the leap with her. This demon is now in custody for the crime of aiding and abetting a suicide. I hope they fry his ass.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. Hundreds of black teenagers from Chicago swarmed the downtown area of the city, causing all types of mischief and mayhem. They broke windows, jumped up and down on vehicles, and even had the audacity to assault their Caucasian elders with their fists and feet. Two African Americans were shot during the riot. One was a six-year-old boy. Sadly, he took a bullet in the arm. The mayor of the city, a libtard named Brandon Johnson, warns us against demonizing these punks. However, I believe that they belong in jail. One of the greatest things about living in Korea is that I no longer have to endure this type of crap. Praise Jesus.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

She said, “I’m really worried about your sister.”

I said, “How come?”

“She couldn’t go to work this morning.”

“Why?”

“She can’t stop crying.”

“Is she depressed or something?”

Mom nodded. “I think so. She believes that I’m going to die soon because I had a stroke. But I feel fine.”

“There’s a lot of nonsense going on in her life right now. Plus that job isn’t easy.”

“What are you talking about? She’s a teacher like you.”

I shook my head. “Not really. She works in the American public school system, and it’s fucking hell. Trust me. I’ve been there and done it.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not exaggerating. You civilians simply refuse to understand the job. Those kids are all fucked up in the head, and the amount of bureaucratic paperwork a teacher endures would break a horse’s back. I’ve got nothing but mucho respect for her. It’s pure torture.”

“Torture? It’s not like she’s digging ditches in the hot sun.”

“Let’s put it this way. If I come back to the States, I’m going to be a waiter at the Waffle House. That’s how bad teaching sucks. I kid you not.”

Sis has been going through some tough times. She recently divorced her husband of thirty years and is now living in sin with an epileptic. He seems like a nice enough guy, but people often rush blindly into a new relationship after a breakup when the best course of action is to patiently get your head together. To make matters worse, her new love interest is a bit of a ne’er-do-well. For instance, he’s been through four jobs in the last five months. And because he has no health insurance, he can’t get the medicine he needs to stop the shaking and the foaming at the mouth. It’s actually sad when you think about it.

My day at work went well. I talked about sports with the middle schoolers.

I said, “Do you know why I like baseball?”

Nobody raised their hands.

I smiled at them. “The sport relaxes me. It literally lowers my blood pressure. Last night, I watched a basketball game between the Kings and the Warriors. It was so exciting that I actually came close to having a heart attack. I even bit my nails right down to the nub. Look!”

I held both hands up in the air for them to see. Some even got out of their seats to see for themselves.

I cleared my throat. “This doesn’t happen with baseball, my friends. Nobody loses any sleep when enjoying a contest between the boys of summer. Sometimes, less is more.”

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Praise Jesus

 

(I'm trying my best to be a slave to Christ.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 8 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. A woman in her 30s from the city of Incheon was found unconscious in her apartment building. She had taken a boatload of pills after being ripped off for more than $80,000 by her landlord. Sadly, she died during the ambulance ride on the way to the hospital. The builder who owns the complex has swindled more than $9,000,000 from his tenants. This is the third suicide in the last couple of weeks.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. There was a mass homicide in a small town called Dadeville which is located in the state of Alabama. Over twenty people were shot, and four have succumbed to their injuries so far. Many are currently in critical condition at a local ICU grasping to life by sheer force of God’s will. One of the victims was a teenager who had just earned a full ride to college on a football scholarship. His name was Phil Dowdell, and his grandmother said that he had a beautiful smile. Unfortunately, Phil will no longer be smiling thanks to the murderous prick who gunned him down. The suspect is still at large as I write this drivel.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

I said, “I went to Costco the other day with my wife.”

She said, “How did it go?”

“OK, I guess. But I fell down after slipping on some water.”

“Are you going to survive?”

“I hope so. But here’s the straight-skinny truth. It took a good deal of time before I was able to eventually pull myself off the floor.”

“I hope you didn’t break anything.”

I shook my head. “I’m still in a lot of pain, but thankfully all my bones are intact.”

“You got to be careful as you get older. You’re not a spring chicken anymore.”

“Tell me about it.”

Later in the afternoon, I walked to church by my lonesome. Rice-Boy Larry told me that he was drowning in homework, so I gave him a pass. It was a six-mile jaunt there and back. I’ve been exercising more these days and sticking religiously to my diet. I’m trying my best to age with grace. As I enter my golden years, I want to look a little more like Johnny Depp and a little less like Brendan Fraser. Good luck with that, right?

My pastor is Korean, so he spent the entire sermon talking about the problems facing the peninsula. No big surprise. In fact, he constantly mourns the current direction of his nation. For instance, only one percent of Korean university students attend church in these troubled times. And he claims the numbers are even more grim when it comes to middle and high school kids. He went on to discuss his recurring nightmares about the utter collapse of the Korean church.

But as a five-point Calvinist, I never get caught up in the minutiae. I don’t even believe in free will if you want to know the truth. God has the world in his mighty hands, and he’s going to do as he wishes because the universe is under his control. To that point, the Lord has never asked for my advice on one single occasion. And it’s not like Christ stops by on the weekends to get my opinions on the wars in Yemen or the Ukraine. So I’ve simply accepted the fact that I’m merely a speck of dust who’s just along for the ride. Praise Jesus.

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Costco Hell

 

(I hate shopping with a passion.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. The Korean government is cracking down on drugs, and to that end, the police have arrested four guys who were growing marijuana in their apartments. Two are from the small city of Gimhae, and they were caught with $77,000 worth of the drug. The other two hail from Seoul and were growing the plants in a boutique. The men are all facing hefty fines and prison time. The penalties might sound excessive, but narcotics aren’t a huge problem on the peninsula because the citizens know they’ll end up in jail.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. Budweiser has lost 6 billion dollars of market share since placing an image of the popular drag queen Dylan Mulvaney on the cans. I’m not too surprised about the sudden dip. The product is geared toward men who enjoy drinking their suds after a hard day at work. The last thing they want to look at during their downtime is a flaming transvestite who sprinkles fairy dust wherever she goes. Another huge problem is that one of the bigwigs at Anheuser-Bush was caught on tape insulting the customers. She called them frat boys and idiots.

The Dragon Lady came into my room. “I go Costco today.”

I said, “OK, have fun.”

“You go, too.”

I shook my head. “I can’t. I have to make tests for work.”

“I buy many heavy thing. I not supah woman. I need man to rift the glocery into da cah.”

“Bring Rice-Boy Larry.”

“He study for da exam.”

Well, to make a long story even longer, I eventually decided to help her out. Normally, I avoid hanging around my old lady like the plague. It only ends in tears and frustration. But it would have been unmanly to leave her hanging. So we made the short journey to the department store in silence. She listened to the radio while I stared distantly out the window. The Dragon Lady never lets me drive when we go out together. It’s her standard practice to emasculate me at every turn.

The joint was packed to the rafters. Saturday shopping is always hell in Seoul. There were so many people that I could barely move.

The first thing I checked out was the televisions. If you want to buy a Samsung or an LG, it costs thousands of dollars. But Costco also features many Chinese models such as the brand HiSense. I used to have a HiSense set when I lived in Beijing. It was pretty damn good. You can purchase this model in Korea for about $500. It’s a great deal.

The Dragon Lady said, “It not good.”

“Not good? Look at the size of it! It’s huge and cheap.”

“But China use it to spy.”

I shrugged. “What do I care? If the CCP wants to watch me masturbate to porn, then go for it. It’s a fair swap.”

We walked to the aisle featuring the seafood. It was all very delicious. Big fat pink shrimp. Lean hunks of salmon. Lobsters swimming happily in their saltwater tanks. Yet sadly the prices were too steep for a broke dead dick like me. So we loaded up on poultry and bread and bottled water instead. What a bummer.

On the way back to our SUV, I slipped on a puddle of water and took a header. A nice old man tried to help me to my feet, but I was simply too fat for him to lift. My knee was throbbing with pain, and I actually thought that I had torn a ligament or a tendon. But my tale of woe has a happy ending. I feel better today. In fact, I’m about to walk to church. Good for me.

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I'm Tired

 

(I desperately need a break.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. Jeong Myeong-seok is the leader of a strange cult called JMS. He’s currently in prison awaiting his trial for the rape of two foreign women. Well, the prosecutor in the city of Daejon has decided to hit him with another charge of sexual abuse. This time, the victim is a South Korean. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the case, Mr. Jeong is one of those wackos who believes he’s Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, intelligent women tend to fall for his patter, giving up their bodies in the hope of salvation.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. Rich libtards are afraid that farm animals such as cattle and pigs are causing climate change. So now they want their poor brothers and sisters to start consuming insects in order to save the planet. And I’m not completely adverse to the notion of a new type of nutrition. After all, I’ve been dieting for the last six months. However, my biggest problem with the idea is that Lady Rotten-crotch from the shire will be munching on Kobe beef while losers like me are forced to dine on cockroaches. It simply doesn’t seem fair.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

I said, “has Nurse ken set up his phony Facebook account yet?”

She said, “I’m not really sure. I never asked him.”

“Did he take you out to dinner for your birthday?”

“Actually, he brought the food home. But it took the restaurant a million years to cook the steaks, so he didn’t return until 9 p.m. I was about ready for bed by the time he walked through the door.”

“Steak sounds great to my ears. Did you eat it, or did you go to sleep instead?”

“Of course I ate it. I’ll never say no to beef.”

I changed the subject. “They arrested that kid who posted the military secrets online.”

She sighed. “He’s only twenty-one, but he’ll never see the light of day again. But I guess he has it coming. He is a traitor, after all.”

“I don’t look at it that way. He’s more of a whistleblower in my mind.”

“Son, you’re filled with bias.  You’ve always hated this country.”

“That’s not true. I love America. Yet we have to keep our guard up if we want our democracy to stay intact.”

Mom smiled at me. “Blah, blah, blah, blah. Sometimes, you make no sense.”

My day at work went OK. I’m currently studying A Sound of Thunder with the middle schoolers. I’ve never been a huge fan of science fiction, but the kids seem to like the bullshit. I always thought that I had more talent than Ray Bradbury, yet I’m probably deluding myself. I read Fahrenheit 451 when I was a teen. It was complete crap.

Later in the afternoon, one of the teachers came to my room. He gave me some disappointing news. He caught Rice-Boy Larry badmouthing the blacks with his friends. They were laughing about the academic performance of the students who attend the public schools in Baltimore.

The teacher said, “He was saying some racist stuff.”

I said, “Did he use the n-word?”

“No, nothing like that. His crime was much more subtle.”

“Did he get a detention?”

“I didn’t see the point. We talked, and I told him to be careful with his language.”

I shook his hand. “I’ll read him the riot act when he gets home tonight.”

But to be honest, I never said a word. I was too tired, and I simply couldn’t be bothered.

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