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Yesterday, I woke up at 9 a.m. and drank a cup of instant coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a nasty shit. A Korean baseball player named Jae-won Oh is in trouble with the law. He stands accused by one of his former girlfriends of taking illegal prescription drugs. The peninsula is crazy when it comes to narcotics. You can spend more time in prison for popping pills than for murder. I shit you not.
Anyway, Mr. Oh used to play for the Doosan Bears back in the day. In fact, he was on several championship teams. And this is the advice I would give him. When Big Brother starts to interrogate you, stay calm and keep your fucking mouth shut. Let your lawyer do the talking. Not that he'll ever read this blog. Nobody comes here.
I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.
She said, "How are things over there?"
"OK. Not much is happening in my life. It's Saturday, so I have to clean the bathrooms."
She sighed heavily. "Try not to make a big fucking deal out of it. When you're done, sit on the sofa and relax."
I changed the subject. "I've been watching a series called Shogun. It's a remake of the Richard Chamberlain show from back in the 80s."
"Is it any good?"
I nodded and smiled. "It's fan-fucking-tastic. I can't begin to tell you how much I'm enjoying it."
"Do I know any of the actors?"
I shook my head. "Probably not. Most of the cast are Japanese."
"Lots of subtitles?"
I nodded again. "Of course."
"Well, it's definitely not for me. If I wanted to read a book, I'd grab one from the shelf."
Later that morning, I decided to view pornography. My favorite videos featured an actress named Lucy Lee. Lucy is a Korean-American who isn't exactly the most beautiful girl in the world. Nevertheless, she makes up for this by her sheer aggression in the bedroom. Nothing is off limits for this shameless hussy.
After getting my rocks off, it was time to clean the toilets and do several loads of laundry. As I've told you before, I no longer get naked to scrub the floors with bleach and water. Now I use a mop that I purchased off the internet. I also use it to swab the lower half of the tiled walls.
Rice-Boy Larry returned to the apartment at 7 p.m. He had been out all day goofing around with his friends. So we went across the road and ate some Napalm chicken at our favorite restaurant.
We struck up a conversation as we stuffed fiery poultry into our fat faces.
I said, "The calculus test was really hard, huh?"
"Well, it certainly wasn't easy."
"Did you finally figure out how to factor a cube?"
"Yes, but it wasn't on the test."
I patted him on the hand. "Advanced math is like writing poetry or playing a violin. It's not for everybody. I guess you could call it an art."
"An art? I wouldn't go that far."
"Think about it." I paused for dramatic effect. "All those formulas and equations are actually the language of physics. It takes an artist to figure out what the numbers are trying to tell you."
"If you say so."
We eventually got back to our humble abode at 10 p.m. Then we watched the 2020 remake of a film called The Grudge. It was both terrifying and grim. The stuff of nightmares.
