widowcentauri

Money

In bullshit, Uncategorized on June 15, 2014 at 1:08 am

This morning my landlord came to my door as I was drinking my second beer. “It’s already the tenth” he told me, as the scene from the Big Lebowski played out on my doorstep I promised him I would “slide the rent under his door by the end of the week” knowing full well that I have no idea how I am going to make that happen.

I had most of the rent — shit, I had all of the rent a few days ago, but then I sent it via western union along with a bag of change that totaled about a hundred bucks to my kid, who is moving to the city.
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And then I went to California and paid the bill I have been working so hard to gather the money to pay. Months and months of saving and not eating and going on dates to eat and working nonstop like a lean green money making machine — I finally had the cash so I went to pay the bill before the harsh cruel summer set in and I mismanaged my situation and cracked into it. No, I flew to SoCal so I would not spend the cash casue I have no job.

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The stripping gig may have finally run it’s course — I should look for a real job. I should already have a real job.

I went to bourbon tonight looking for a place to dance but when I got to the door at cheerleaders the bouncer asked me if he could feel me up. I just turned and walked off. I don’t have any more patience for sexual harrassment before I actually start working at a place. You can not touch my tits, you can not get a lap dance as part of an audition, no I’m not interested in doing ‘private parties’ in the back room. I need a real job. I have been looking at the internet for a real job, but that does not mean I have my rent.

Nor does it mean that I have any idea how to get a real job. It seems overwhelming to me to get something that the better portion of society finds necessary. I really just don’t know how to get a job, nor do I even know if I want to have one. Really. I want to own up and be a writer, I can work a writing hustle — or I could join the peace corp, or what? I keep toying with becoming a teacher, but the reality is that I’m just not sure I am cut out for working in a structured environment every day. Having some sort of reality I must abide by. I would rather do drugs and write all day, all week, shit I know how to write.

Teaching people about being able to help people learn, it is about navigating politics — I’m not very good about making other people happy. When I see injustice I say something I see a lot of injustice in the school system. I can’t imagine I would be able to last long in a world where I have to jumpt through hoops. I work best alone and independently. So what am I supposed to do with the rest of my life?

Am I really done being a stripper? Can I manage to come up with some harebrained plan to pay my rent and get out of the business and then do that this week?

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Or should I just fly to Alaska and dance for the rest of the summer?

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  1. your bladder has an amazing capacity!

  2. Still do golden showers? My job has made it very difficult to meet up with you but I am still interested in paying you to soak my cock and balls with your pee and making me stay in it all night!

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