Mama told me there’d be days like this, but this is the living end! So I went out last night, sue me, to the Duplex – and who do I meet, not one, not two, but three of my exes! And they were all talking about me of course, who wouldn’t, I’m fabbbulous. Have you seen my abs? Well, they have, and trust me! One of these guys, I haven’t seen him for weeks! And he’s still flapping his gums about how I mistreated him. Anyhow, we made up over daquiris, and we went to Hotel W, and the Glass Slipper, and the Mott St. Karaoke – I do a Fixx tune and well one thing lead to another… cough… yeah, with all three.
Dear fucking straight assholes – it was mostly safe, ok? Allright, the poppers got a little out of hand, but we all get by with a little help from our friends…
Anywho, so we’re all cuddling, except for Edward who took the couch, and who walks in! Yes, my current boyfriend, back early from his shoot in Toronto a day early!! Fuck you, Spielberg, you’ve WRECKED MY LIFE. In the chaotic scramble for the exits, my now-ex snorts “What, you didn’t get the WHOLE football team?” Whatta jerk – like he we all haven’t done the same.
Lousy way to start the day, right? So to top it all off, when I regale my coworkers this morning with my daily tale of woe, this cunt, Marcia, has the nerve to roll her eyes. It was almost unnoticeable, but it was there. Everyone else was cracking up – why do I go through these tribulations if not to amuse everyone around me with my crackling blue wit? I’m thinking about sending her up on charges – and Neil – his nose twitched when I started talking about sexual positions. Neil, I love ya, but lighten up, mmk?
But Marcia, I don’t know what to do with her. I’ve told her to sit on a barbed wire butt-plug, and to get laid, but she still hasn’t paid ANY ATTENTION TO ME ALL DAY. The nerve of some people! I had to open up two more chat threads, start 4 IM sessions and buy three more mirrors just to stabilize my ego.
She’s homophobic, right? How could she not lavish attention over someone as fabulous as me? Her attacks are hurting my immune system. Plus which these paraplegic-fucking sites I’ve been looking at all afternoon are making me nauseous. I just sneezed on my keyboard and monitor and had to get Neil to clean them up. Neil is Irish and hot as pancake batter – I wonder if he’d go home sick with me, and tend to my needs, like licking strawberry jam off my nipples. I’m sure he would. Has he seen my abs?
-A.O.S