Archive for May 24th, 2007

Make Believe Bitches & Money

Know what I love?

I love to day dream about gettin paid.

Yeah that ain’t working — that’s the way you do it!

I like it when loose US $50 notes flip & tumble-roll in the air like feathers escaped from a big fluffy-goose bed. I want a pile of money big enough to lay back & relax in like it was a recliner chair.

Sip on chilled neon sweat-drip glass fulls of Dexedrine-spiked & iced Alien Turd tea. With my mind on my money & my money on my mind!

There is a tall highway over-pass a short walk from town. When I want to off myself — if you don’t have days like that…get out of my face — I think about how I might jump off it. Should I so choose. But I want to go out First Class — and that crumby old bridge, from even a suicidal standpoint, is a whole low-rent load of going out coach.

I want so much money I can plunge beneath an oxygen squeezed crater-load of it until I suffocate & die. Like an Irishman near drowned after an inadvertent slip & fall into a whiskey vat; fighting rescuers off bravely and resurfacing only to demand tequila & cans of Guinness pub draft beer.

I know what you’re saying. “But Mike E: if you have so much money you need 3 bitches & a swiss bank account — why would you want to commit suicide?”

Not a reason on all sweet momma Earth. Money is the solution to all my problems. That’s why I love to day dream in my spare time about getting paid.

When I occasionally wish I were dead it invariably is because of Smoldering Abject Poverty. Sometimes I want to commit suicide. Yes. And you know what? I’m proud of it. Why? Because one day I might. It does suck that bad to be me. But I am also a fantastically wishful thinker. My fantastically wishful thoughts are why I assiduously choose to live & not die.

Like when I comtemplate suicide by Benny Frank asphyxiation instead of landing my ass in a (with my luck) barely alive pile of gut-splinters up the street.

But don’t worry. I’m too lazy to kill myself. And it’s not like I sit around & think about it all the time…

…I think about 3 bitches & Swiss Bank-loads of dough mostly.

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