Oh, by the way I’ve officially got a boyfriend.

Today I realized that I’m broke.  Super broke.  I don’t have any money.  It’s gone.  Goodbye.  I scraped together $2.50 for hotdogs.  The Hot Dog Guy asked me if I wanted a drink and I said no, I was out of money.  He so kindly hooked me up with Papaya drink.  Thanks man.  Thanks.

It’s true I do.  Most people do.  My issues are, however quite funny to the common man.  My issues stem from the Cuddler or Mixed Signals Boy or Dusch Bag; whatever you want to call him.

Last weekend was great.  I seriously had a good time.  Of course I drank too much and then slept all day, but hey…it’s New York.  I ended up spending the evening with the aforementioned party and, well, wild monkey sex.  This is not the issue-though it is the base of the issue.

On Sunday we went to see Fido, which is quite good.  Afterward when Idiot Boy had a few beers in him he accused me of spiking his beer with Viagra the other evening.  Apparently he hadn’t felt the surge of manhood like that particular evening in quite some time.

Normally I would take this to be that my pussy is the shiz-nit, however we have been fucking on and off for the past 3 months.  It should be noted that I had not been doing things I normally do because he seemed very timid and I didn’t want to frighten him.  So I’m actually doubly insulted.  One that he thinks I would drug him and two that it would take drugs for him to be that turned on my me.

You see where my issues are coming from today?  Plus, on top of this bullshit he tells me that he has a date with a 21 year-old that he apparently made out with last week.  Now I know that I’m never faithful, but seriously I don’t tell them that (unless they piss me off, but I don’t know implying that I spiked their drink with Viagra).

So last nights drunken texting well…we’ll see how it all plays out.

Down the hall from my office there is a modeling office.  So a couple of times a day we get models walking up and down the halls looking all hungry.  It’s so funny, they are very tall and skinny and not at all happy looking.  I feel sort of bad for them.

Today I went back to McDonalds for lunch.  I couldn’t be bothered to actually go get real food.  So maccers it was.  As I was leaving the little old man who sweeps the floor opened the door for me.  Then he said, “you are beautiful.  I love you.”  Awe…thank you McDonalds man.

So I’ve got a job.  I’ve got red hair (mostly).  I’m sort of dating this guy Steve who really likes to cuddle.  The next thing you know I’ll be pregnant and moving to Brooklyn.  I really have to stop working on the Sex and the City tour.