Ray is bummed out.

Ray came by today! Usually it is pretty great to see him, because he always has a little piece of candy for you, or wants to bet on who can drop a magazine the fastest (they say he is nice to let me win, but I watch, and I think I win on purpose), only today it was not great to see him. I mean, I cared about him, because he is my friend, but he made me sad. He was not himself.

He knocked on the door, then let himself in and walked through the house. No one was around but me. I asked if he would like to be Baked Potato Brothers, but he said he didn't want lunch and went out back. (I ate some Adam's Natural Peanut Butter from a jar Chris left by the furnace grate, don't worry.)

I don't like to sin, but I climbed up on the kitchen counter to see what he was doing on the back step. He was just sitting there! I watched for a little more and I saw him getting even more mad. This is what he said:

RAY: Jesus Christ. Who cares what shape America is. People are so used to god-damned [sorry!] AMERICA shape that they gonna send me email all god-damned [sorry!] day if America ain't the shape they familiar with. So WHAT if Florida don't get colored in no more? So WHAT if Florida is ocean color when I rule? THAT'S ASS [sorry!] AS HELL! [sorry!]

ME: [IN MY IMAGINATION] It's okay, Ray! America can be any shape you want, as long as you hold onto your dreams! Shucks! What's in a shape, anyway? Shapes are just how things look and seem!

RAY: Maybe I'll get a gmail account I can ignore. I don't know. How does a President even handle email. Probably has a bunch of folders set up, like by an aide.

He picked at one of his toenails after that, and then he went home. He was as unhappy when he came as when he left. I didn't do a good job helping, but I didn't get a lot of tries.