Yesterday, I
got home at 6 p.m. and had a smoke. Then I briefly thought about scrubbing the
sliding glass doors which lead to my veranda. They’re covered with unsightly
fingerprints. But I just didn’t have the energy. So I sat on the sofa and
watched Fox News instead. The entire broadcast revolved around the hurricane
which just slammed Florida. A couple people died who were driving their cars
during the storm.
Rice-Boy
Larry stepped into the living room. “I’m going outside to play basketball.”
“Who are you
meeting?”
“Nobody.”
“You’re playing
by yourself?”
He nodded. “That’s
right. I need the exercise. Plus I don’t have any homework tonight.”
I shrugged. “OK.
Sounds good to me.”
He paused
for a second. “Do you think that medicine is doing anything for my acne?”
“Yes. You’re
actually starting to look a little bit better.”
Rice-Boy has
only been taking the pills for a few days, so his skin is pretty much the same.
But a little white lie never hurt anybody. He certainly doesn’t resemble a young
Brad Pitt. Yet he isn’t the elephant man, either.
I switched
on Netflix and began viewing another episode of Peaky Blinders. I have
to tell you assholes something. Sam Neil is a hell of an actor. He’s one of
those Hollywood stalwarts who has appeared in everything under the sun but
never gets the praise he deserves. In this show, he’s a real son of a bitch who
is hunting downs communists and gangsters.
I called Larry
at 8:30 p.m. “Where the hell are you?”
“I’m still
playing ball.”
“Well, it’s
time to come home.”
“Why?”
“It’s dark
outside.”
He got back
to the apartment ten minutes later covered in sweat. My boy isn’t much of an
athlete, but I don’t hold it against him. I suck at sports, too.
At 9 p.m., I
walked to my bedroom and had a wank before falling asleep. I no longer rely on
porn to get my jollies, so playing with myself isn’t the joy that it used to
be. Yet that’s OK. I don’t want to help fuel the smut industry with my lust.
The alarm
sounded at 5 a.m., and I took a wicked piss. Then I walked outside to enjoy a
Marlboro before having a shit and a shower. After that, I cooked up six strips
of bacon in a frying pan. I also fried some rice cake.
“Get up,
Larry! Breakfast is served.”
He climbed
out of bed and ate the vittles without saying a word. My son isn’t a morning
person.
At 6:30
a.m., it was time to catch the bus. Most of the bus drivers in Korea are a
bunch of surly assholes. But today’s guy was actually very friendly. He gave me
a warm greeting while flashing me a smile.
I got to
work at 7 a.m. and called my mother using Facebook Messenger.
I said, “Are
you feeling any better?”
She frowned.
“I’m still sick.”
“What’s
bothering you?”
“Nothing. I’m
just not myself.”
“Are you
sure you’re OK? You look like somebody took a whizz in your cornflakes.”
She let out
a heavy sigh. “It’s that fucking stepbrother of yours. He came to my house and
clogged all the goddamn sinks with his funky food.”
“Did you
call a plumber?”
“No need for
that. I managed to fix the problem myself with Drano.”
“Well, that’s
good.”
“God forgive
me, Jack. But I wish he’d go the fuck home.”
My day at
work went well. The kids were pleasant. I enjoy my job a great deal. It’s my
oasis in a storm.
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