Chapter 43

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Yesterday, I woke up at 7 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the paper while taking a nasty shit. The World Baseball Classic starts today at 6:30 p.m. Korea will play Israel in the Seoul Sky Dome—which is a good thing. The weather outside is so frigid that my balls are frozen to my thighs. So playing the game away from the elements is a wonderful idea.

I called Ken using Facetime.

I said, "Mom wants you to work with her this summer."

He said, "I don't want to do that shit. I want to meet my friends."

I said, "Too bad. But her classes have been cut to eight hours a week. That's not very difficult."

He said, "I don't want to do it."

I said, "Don't vex your mother. You know she's a loon."

The Dragon Lady overheard the conversation. She came flying out of the bedroom with an ugly frown on her face.

She said, "Are you da fadda? He not da boss. You da boss."

I said, "All this crap is between you and him."

"Asshoe."

"I'm not an asshole. I'm just too old to fight. I'm tired."

I drove my family to The Church of Tits and Ass. I wasn't able to look at the Asian college girls. Instead, I focused on remaining calm. My wife calls me an asshole about five or six times a day. Her behavior often pisses me off. Yet I don't think showing emotion would do any good. In fact, it might have the opposite effect of making things worse.

Pastor Jug-head finished Second Timothy. The focus of the sermon was the importance of friendship to Christians. When Paul was rotting in a prison, he needed companions willing to help him with the mission. Being a bitter loner just doesn't promote the cause.

I took my family to McDonald's. I had a Big Mac and a large order of French fries. I'm a huge fan of junk food. All that starch sends me straight to the moon.

After that, we went bowling. I'm terrible at the sport. I can knock down eight or nine pins consistently. But I always fail to pick up the spare. Therefore, I never break one hundred.

Rice-Boy Larry had a great time. He loves bowling. We ended up playing three frames. The total cost came to twenty-five dolla.

We walked around town looking for heelies. Heelies are shoes with wheels on the heels. But the shops no longer sell them. Too many kids are busting their heads open. There was even a write up about them in the paper.

Rice-Boy Larry was very disappointed. He began to cry. The salesgirl thought his tirade was cute. She giggled joyously.

He said, "I want heelies!"

I said, "What do you want me to do about it?"

He cried harder.

I said, "When I was a boy, I wanted my mother to buy me a cobra."

"Really?"

"Of course. What young kid doesn't want a cobra? But she refused. Do you know why?"

"It would have killed you?"

"That's right. It would've killed me."

Let me set the record straight. I'm one of those pussies who's afraid to touch insects. So what the fuck would I do with a deadly snake? But as a daddy, I had to say something to get his mind off his pain. It's a good thing that children are stupid.

We returned to the villa. All that exercise left me feeling exhausted. I ate ice cream and went to bed at eight p.m.

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