I woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head. Hey, I know that song. What the hell time is it? Four in the morning. Jeez, go back to sleep. Can’t. I know what to do; I’ll go for a jog. Naw. That’s a stupid idea. Number one, it’s still dark outside; number two: what’s the point? I know it’s beneficial to your heart and your health and blah, blah,blah, but it’s a mindless stupid exercise in futility. Anybody who tells you, I just love to go out for a jog is a friggin’idiot. The only thing good about it is when it’s over.
What else can I do at four in the morning? One thing is four sure: I’m not going to work. My job was in an industry that was shipped overseas, and it’s not coming back. Sure glad our government, in their infinite wisdom, gave tax incentives for America’s companies to head to Asia. That was brilliant. And I’m also sure glad, that our government and the SEC where watching over the crooks on Wall Street. That brilliant watchdog agency let the crooks turn our 401k’s turn into 201’ks.
I guess I can peruse the Internet for porn. Naw, that’s boring. Besides, what’s the point? You’re going to look at porn, and then what. Stupid idea.
I’ve got it: Plug in “Gran Torino” and have Bloody Mary. Great idea. I just love the way that old curmudgeon rips everyone a new one. Detroit is in about as good as shape as I am.
The movie is over. What time is it? Six in the morning? Jeez. This is going to be a long day. I only have sixteen hours to blow before I go back to sleep. That means I have sixteen hours to write about “A day in my life.”