About sungmokoo

I am a native of Chicagoland. I am old enough to know better even if I don't.

Laughter In The Rain

Posted on September 20, 2018 by sungmokoo

There are only three things you can truly rely on in this post-truth world: The Chinese straw hat, oxen, and the rain.

Donna Porcellino was pissed and then some. If she were a cartoon character, a steady flow of steam would spew from her ears, causing her hair to rise three to five inches above her scalp. Alas, she was just a mortal composed of flesh and blood, so she was merely drenched to the bone, her shoulders hunched, her nerves tightly wound and knotted, barely containing the angst from within. Her facial expression clearly said, leave me alone or I will chew your head off.

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The Terms They Are A-Changin’

Posted on September 19, 2018 by sungmokoo

Trump’s White Male House makes sure he umlauts his e’s as well as dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s. Image Source.

For a while now, I have referred to Trump as current ~~president of the United States himself~~ dictator wannabe, but that ends today. As you can see from my opening sentence, he will simply be called Trump, just like his gaudy pointless towers. It’s a shame they are still a source of income. I look forward to the day those ugly edifices are beautified with boards indicating closure and bankruptcy.

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Fraught With Ambiguity

Posted on September 18, 2018 by sungmokoo

THIS IMAGE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS STORY! This is just my way of saying Rachel Maddow with a mustache is not a bad thing.

Ezekiel Hammett, sometimes known as Zeke, Zekey, E-Z, or Hambone, put his Cleveland Indians cap on backwards, slapped on too much cologne, and checked his phone. As expected, nothing; but it doesn’t kill you to check, right? He was moving slower than usual. He was still recovering from the constant drain that comes from losing a life-long friend.

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Like The Fool Who Is Parted From His Money, Too Soon

Posted on September 17, 2018 by sungmokoo

This man. This dick. This ridiculous dick of a man. Why, he oughtta…

He deserved to die. No one was made more aware of this than the man himself. When he looked in the mirror, all he could see staring back was something that was the complete opposite of decent. Typically, the word would be indecent, but it doesn’t carry the weight of the gritty underbelly he resides in. It doesn’t define how he is the shit that clumps to the bottom of ones shoe at a formal event, or the last piece of vomit stuck in ones teeth. After a quick introspection, he merely shrugs his shoulders before walking away.

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