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 Chinese woman became angry and punched a bus driver right in the head. The man wanted revenge, so he drove the vehicle off a bridge and into the Yangtze River. Fifteen people died in the accident.
I stepped into my spacious shower. The hot water felt great as it pounded against my blubber. I thought about a porn star named Little Oral Annie. Annie has great tits and a nice hairy bush. She’s also an expert sword swallower who takes it in the ass. It wasn’t long before I popped a Woodrow. I proceeded to spank my monkey using plenty of shampoo for maximum comfort. I blew my load in less than five minutes. My orgasm was quite explosive. I really had a good time.
After that, I had an imaginary conversation with God.
I said, “I want to quit this writing shit. I’m fifty years old, and I just can’t seem to gain any popularity.”
God said, “Aren’t your books doing well?”
“Well, I did manage to sell five copies over the past couple of weeks. But that’s not much in the world of publishing.”
“This is my advice. Don’t concentrate on making money. And don’t worry about achieving fame. Be good, instead.”
“Yes, be good. What is your genre of choice?”
“I consider myself a comic writer.”
“Then what you really want is for your jokes to snap, crackle, and pop. Do they snap, crackle, and pop?”
“I’m not really sure. But I think so. I have a very small but loyal following.”
“That’s wonderful. Try your best to deliver a quality product. Everything else should be secondary.”
I dried off with one of my wife’s tiny towels. Then I walked downstairs and ate breakfast with Rice-Boy Larry. We had oatmeal and granola. The meal was quite good. I’m turning into a regular nature boy.
I got to work at 7:30 a.m. I called my mother using WeChat.
She said, “Are you OK? You look like you’re filled with stress.”
I said, “I just don’t understand the younger generation. They all seem like a bunch of clueless libtards.”
“Why? What happened.”
“One of the teachers played a strange game with the children. She had them line up on the basketball courts. After that, she asked some pretty unusual questions.”
“Listen to this. She said, ‘Those of you who have a father at home please take one step forward.’”
“Wow, that’s disgusting.”
“It gets worse. She also said, ‘If you've never been so depressed that you've cried yourself to sleep, take one step forward.’”
“I’m with you. That’s weird.”
“It was a giant mind fuck. One of the kids even started bawling her eyes out. I guess her parents are divorced.”
“That teacher sounds like an asshole.”
“Mom, it’s the entire millennial generation. They're a bunch of pampered virtue-signaling nutjobs. I shit you not. The teacher left us with these words of wisdom: ‘I hope you enjoyed this activity. If you learned nothing from this exercise, then you are ignorant and unfeeling.’”
“What a twat.”
“She said this little experiment was all about empathy.”
“Empathy has nothing to do with it. Trust me. She loves superiority and control. It’s virtue-signaling, just like you said.”
I got home at 5 p.m. and watched several episodes of Penny Dreadful. I’ve seen the program many times, and it remains one of my favorites. The show never fails to give me the creeps.
I went to bed at 9 p.m. My dreams were uneasy.