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.

(Did you like this post? Then read my novel for free. Click here.)