Yesterday, I taught a poem to my high schoolers called There Will Come Soft Rains. It was written a hundred years ago by a woman named Sara Teasdale. I’m not a huge fan of her work. Ms. Teasdale was a real libtard.
I looked at my class. “Is anyone offended by the tone of her writing?”
All I got
back were blank stares, so I repeated the question.
One girl shrugged
her shoulders. “It’s just a stupid poem. Why should I be offended?”
I smiled at
her. “Well, in my humble opinion, Sara seems pretty happy that the whole human
race will one day disappear. Her thesis seems to be this: Without people, the globe
will turn into a natural paradise filled with clean water and chirping birds.
In other words, we are so bad that we deserve our comeuppance.”
She shot me
the stink eye. “Man, you need to relax. Has your wife been mean to you lately? You’re
such a grouch.”
“Of course,
she’s been mean to me lately. Is water wet? But that’s not the point.”
“So what? Sara
Teasdale loves nature and hates humans. Big freaking deal.”
Everybody
laughed.
Perhaps my
student is right. Maybe I’m just a bitter old man. And to her credit, I do
need to relax. I’m far too tense these days. The cleaning and cooking are driving me up the wall.
Later, I
caught the bus home at 5 p.m. We were all stacked into the vehicle like
sardines. In fact, we were so full that the driver had to kick people to the
curb. He told them angrily in Korean that they would have to wait for the next
ride to come. This shit happens from time to time. Seoul is a city teeming with
10 million people. Sometimes, you can’t even walk down the street without
bumping into folk.
When I got
back to my apartment, it was time to smoke a cigarette and make dinner. I
prepared fried rice and eggs. It’s always my go-to meal. Does it taste great?
Hell no. Yet it’s filling and easy to prepare. Plus it might actually be nutritious.
With that said, my stomach constantly growls from hunger since the Dragon Lady
left. But this might be a good thing for a fat ass like me.
Rice-Boy
Larry was playing computer games, so I brought a plate of food to his room.
He said, “Did
you have a good day at work?”
I nodded. “It
was OK. How about you?”
“I’m not
complaining. We didn’t have any major tests, and all my homework is done.”
“Are you
enjoying Korea?”
“Yes, the
ROK is my country. I actually feel more Korean than American.”
“Would you
be able to survive if we moved back to the United States?”
“I suppose
so.”
I sighed
heavily. “Nothing is set in stone, but it’s not out of the realm of
possibility.”
“Understood.”
I sat on the
sofa and watched several episodes of Peaky Blinders. I’ve now completed season
five. Adrian Brody gets shot through the head by his English enemies. Good stuff.
I walked to
my room at 9 p.m. and had a wank. Then I fell asleep and dreamt about buying
lunch for a black guy at a fast-food restaurant. The bill came to $51 dollars,
and I kept yelling at the girl behind the counter.
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You know, my Grandpa owned four cars from 1932 until 1987, he had watches, guns, even owned a restaurant at one time. Here it is 37 years later and not one trace of him exists. 20th Century man will be the same.
ReplyDeleteLarry's 15. Why can't he fix his own food and do some of the cleaning? Or maybe he does and you just don't say it. But at 15 a kid can start pulling some of his own weight around the place. And please don't say he's studying too much to help. That would be an excuse, not a reason.
ReplyDeleteLarry's in charge of the garbage.
Delete