(Cholera used to kill a ton of people.)
Yesterday, I had beef and French fries for dinner. I cooked the fries in my magnificent Phillips air-fryer. They came out all crisp and salty and delicious. I love starch. It sends me straight to the moon. I washed the vittles down with several glasses of generic cola. I'm a broke dead dick, so I can't afford the good stuff.
I didn't watch any television. Instead, I read a few short stories by Sherwood Anderson. My all-time favorite is Hands. It's about a gay school teacher who is mistaken for a pedophile. He's beaten to a pulp by an angry father and run out of town by a mob who wants to hang him. The protagonist, Wing Biddlebaum, spends the rest of his life in fear with his hands in his pockets.
I paid homage to the Christ God. I said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees. No big surprise. I'm not some filthy pagan. I thanked The Savior for his many blessings upon my life. For instance, not a lot of people get to read belles lettres while relaxing on their sofas. I'm a fortunate man. Things could always be worse. I'm just glad that I wasn't born in Yemen.
I went to bed at 10 p.m. I didn't dream. I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the paper while enjoying a bathroom break. A Korean man contracted cholera here on the peninsula. This is the first case in fifteen years. Victims of cholera get the disease by drinking tainted water. Great. More good news. Oh well. We all got to die sometime, so no point in sweating it.
I turned on CNN. Many Trump supporters believe that Hillary Clinton is very ill. However, Hillary insists that's she's as healthy as a horse. The truth is probably somewhere in the middle. She looks old, and she's certainly having a tough time climbing up stairs. But don't let appearances fool you. That old lesbian will probably last for another hundred years.
Anyway, my quiver is empty. So long for now, and God bless everybody. Enjoy the song of the day.
(Knights in White Satin)