Israel

 

(Is the apocalypse right around the corner?)

Yesterday, I woke up at 8 a.m. and drank a cup of instant coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a nasty dump. An oldster in Seoul fell in love with a sixty-five-year-old woman, and he began following her like a puppy dog. He even turned up unannounced at the temple where she prayed to Buddha. When she told him to get lost, he struck several times on the head with a blunt object and stabbed her in the stomach with a knife. Sadly, the poor lady died of her injuries. For his crime, Gramps will have to spend the next twenty years in prison.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

I said, “How’s Chicken Ken been doing?”

“He’s very busy. He’s either studying for his tests, or he’s schlepping sandwiches at the Chick-fil-A.”

“Why does he love that place so much?”

“What place?”

“Chick-fil-A.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I really don’t know. But he’s always felt this strange affection for the company. In fact, he’s downright mesmerized by their waffle French fries. Perhaps he’ll own a franchise in the future.”

“Maybe. Anything’s possible. He’s a real go-getter. I’ve got to give him that.”

Mom suddenly changed the subject. “I’ve been thinking of buying him a house.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been looking at these three-bedroom homes in a nice neighborhood just down the road from me. You should see them. They’re beautiful.”

I nodded. “That’s very generous of you.”

“There’s only one stipulation. He must let you and Rice-Boy live there in the future. He’s not allowed to sell it without your permission.”

“And what happens if he breaks the deal?”

Mom smiled at me. “I’ll rise from the grave and haunt him for the rest of his life.”

My level of trust is at an all-time low. I blame this on the Dragon Lady. She’s been perpetually lying to me for a quarter century. And now I don’t even have faith in my own sons. I keep thinking that the world is out to screw me. It’s terrible to live like that. But what can I do? My demons have demons.

I walked to the living room. Larry was sitting on the sofa and watching TV.

He said, “I can’t go to church with you today.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve made prior arrangements with my friends.”

“What are you guys going to do?”

“We’re not sure yet.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “That’s OK. You can come with me next week.”

Sadly, Rice-Boy missed a great sermon. My pastor was on fire. He claimed that the Palestinians are nothing more than the left-over Philistines from the ancient days. He then scolded Israel for not following God’s orders in the Old Testament. He said that the Israelites should have wiped them out when they first entered the land of Canaan just as the Lord had commanded.

I’m a huge believer in biblical prophecy, and I’m starting to wonder if this is the beginning of the war Ezekiel talks about in chapters 38 and 39 of his book. But I have an agenda. I pray daily for the return of Jesus Christ so that he can set the world straight and punch the bad guys on the nose.

After the service, I walked home by my lonesome. My poor tootsies were screaming in pain by the time I walked through the door to my home. Then I sat on the sofa and watched the UFC. Overall, it wasn’t a bad day.

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