Monday, October 22, 2018

Filthy Degenerates

Chapter 24

          Yesterday, I had a strange dream. I received an invitation to a wedding from one of my colleagues. I immediately ascended an orange-colored spiral staircase and told the Dragon Lady.

          I said, “We need to give them seventy-five dollars. Put it in an envelope.”

          She said, “No, seventy-five dolla too much. We not have da money. I give them twenty-five dolla.”

          “Twenty-five dollars? Are you nuts? Three of us are going. That doesn’t even cover the cost of our food.”

          “I not have da cash. We poor. Twenty-five dolla best I can do.”

          Suddenly, I became very angry. I began punching holes in the wall.

          I finally woke up at 7 a.m. I was on the sofa. Rice-Boy Larry was next to me, playing games on his smartphone.

          He said, “You were talking in your sleep.”

          I said, “I had a nightmare about a wedding.”

          I walked upstairs to my spacious bathroom. I took a nasty shit while reading the news. An elementary teacher scolded one of her students. Unfortunately, it turns out that the child is the daughter of a high-ranking police official. Officers were dispatched to the school and the woman was arrested. The powers that be are looking into the case. They believe that an abuse of power might have taken place.

          Things are just different in China. The authorities are large and in charge. If you teach the children of the powerful, it’s best to give them a pass when they fuck up in class. If you’re a stickler for equal justice, you might find yourself in a jail cell.

          I took a quick shower and washed my smelly ass. Then I called an old high-school buddy using Facebook. He writes a blog about living as a retiree in Thailand. He’s also working on a book which he plans to publish on Amazon.

          He said, “Sometimes, I feel like I’m only writing for myself. Not many people come to my website.”

          “Tell me about it.”

          “Have you sold any more books?”

          “No, not a single one. I’m on a thirty-five day dry spell.”

          “I looked on YouTube. Very few self-published authors make any money. The lack of marketing is a killer.”

          “I guess it’s feast or famine. The chick who wrote Fifty Shades of Gray sold millions and millions of copies. She’s self-published.”

          “Women’s erotica is a very popular genre.”

          “Maybe I should try that next.”

          Later in the day, we caught a taxi to see Dr. Sexy. The visit was painless. I now have my partial dentures. They’re currently in my mouth as I type this bullshit. Having a full set of choppers feels wonderful. It’s a small but important victory.

          We went to lunch at a fancy shopping mall. We had fried rice, curried shrimp, and roasted chicken. The meal was terrific, and it came to less than forty dollars. It’s the magic of China. The exact same feast would have set us back more than a hundred bucks in South Korea.

          We arrived home at 7 p.m. I sat on the sofa and watched two episodes of Shameless. Shameless lives up to its name. It’s a program about drunks and psychos and homosexuals. The show’s funny, but it’s also very scary. I fear that America is being taken over by degenerates. Antifa trash. BLM scumbags. Femi-Nazis. Godless abortionists. Perverts who tinkle in the ladies room. Need I say more?

          I went to bed at 9 p.m. I slept like the dead.


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