Yesterday, I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and drank a cup of instant coffee. Then I read the news on my smartphone while taking a nasty shit. A female lawyer from southern China walked into a police station and was impolite to the cops. So they took her into one of the back rooms and forced her to submit to a strip search. She found the whole incident very humiliating and reported the crime to the powers that be. The policemen were given a pass. Instead, the government scolded the lawyer for disturbing the public order. Things are just different over here.
After taking a shower, I talked to The Pastor from my previous school using Facebook. Some of you might be familiar with him. He plays a part in my first novel—the one about living and teaching in South Korea. It’s called Filthy Beast: The Diary of an English Teacher in South Korea. You can find it on Amazon. He told me that my former boss has decided to resign. The Pastor is a little bit depressed about the situation. He’s afraid that an asshat named Mr. Lipps will end up getting the job. But I told him to dry his tear-stained cheeks because the sun will come out tomorrow. I’m a very positive person by nature. I’m wonderful that way.
Work went well. I talked to one of my colleagues.
I said, “Now that I’m fifty, I’ve decided to change my teaching style.”
He said, “How so?”
“I want to be more relational.”
“I’m tired of my role as Captain Discipline. Don’t get me wrong. I still want to maintain a harmonious classroom. But I also want to have fun and be on good terms with the children.”
“You sound a little bit like a grandpa.”
“Well, I am getting brand-new dentures in two weeks. Plus I’ll probably be dead in thirty years. So I figure it’s time to start smelling the roses before I kick the bucket.”
He nodded. “I agree with you. Life’s super short. Who needs the stress?”
I taught several twelfth-grade English classes today. We are currently reading an essay by John F. Kennedy on the subject of immigration.
One boy said, “Everybody in America loves JFK.”
I shrugged my shoulders.
He said, “What does that mean?”
I said, “Well, somebody blew his brains out, so we know that least one person wasn’t too crazy about him.”
He smiled. “You’re a wise man, Mr. Buffalo.”
I nodded. “I truly am. I never get the credit which is my due.”
I got home at 5 p.m. and watched Tucker Carlson. He’s my favorite television personality. Tucker’s worried about the potential of violence from left-wing loons. I agree with him. Here’s the problem with the progressive movement. They’re all virtue signalers. So if they smash a guy in the face with a bicycle chain for being a misogynist or a racist, then they think that’s appropriate behavior. They have no regard for First-Amendment rights.
Later, I viewed a show entitled Better Call Saul. It’s a spin-off from Breaking Bad. I like the program a lot. It comes with my highest recommendation.
I went to bed at 10 p.m. I had a dream about Donald Trump. I was driving a truck for his company, but he wanted me to become a welder. I love my president a lot. He even invades my slumber.