same old misery

I've had the worst gas lately. I don't know why. My diet hasn't changed. But it stinks like diarrhea. It's so bad that I wake up in the morning short of breath because I've been farting all night and won't take full breaths. Plus there's the same old acid reflux thing going on so my esophagus hurts and when I take a deep breath when I get out of bed it hurts like fuck and stinks like shit.

I stayed in bed till like 2 p.m. and then I went out to buy some new t-shirts because my old ones either don't fit or were burned by my ex wife. I had to go to my car first to get my sunglasses because it's so bright outside and I can't just deal with the brightness because the sun makes me sneeze, which is excruciatingly painful because of my intense and chronic ear pain. But I was so drunk when I got home last night that I can't remember where I parked my car. So I had to wander around my hood looking for the car for like half an hour without my sunglasses and it was just awful.

My girlfriend broke up with me because she can't stand my snoring. It's not my fault I snore. She told me to go to the Ear Nose Throat doctor to get it checked out and while I'm at it have him fix my ear problem, but I don't have health insurance so how am I supposed to do that? So she dumps me, which wouldn't be that big of a problem, except the NYPD just busted my prostitute service as part of their ongoing Craigslist crack down. So now I can't just email Sadie via Craigslist for a blowjob. Now the only blowjobs left on Craigslist are the ones where you pay graduate students $1,000 to hang out and hope that you can talk them into giving you a blow job for an extra hundred bucks. Like I can afford that. If I had $1,100 I would have gone to the fucking ear doctor and avoided the whole fucking problem.

Meanwhile, I'm being extorted by the city. They claim I owe them several hundred dollars in past due parking tickets on my motorcycle. Fucking christ. What am I supposed to do when I'm late for work and I can't find my car becuase I was so drunk when I parked it? I have to take the bike, that's what. It's not my fault I can't get press plates on the bike. So they tow the bike and say I owe them some outrageous amount of money to get it back. That's fucking extortion. Fucking government. I can even get a cheap blow job anymore because of them.

Two ex girlfriends called me this week and asked me to dinner. They're both fucking psycopathic bitches, but I figure what the fuck. I got no other prospects. So I go out with the one, and I find out the only reason she wants to see me is to ask if my dad can help her get some fucking internship. I havent talked to him in months and she expects me to call him up and ask a favor for some girl that once through a vase and my head and then refused to take me to the emergency room? Fuck that. So I go out with the other one, who is crazier than I remember, and she wants my help moving her shit to a storage locker because she's moving out of her apartment and into a rehab center, which she claims is to to research an for the New Yorker, but that's obviously bullshit. So I tell her no because I can't find my car, and then she starts in on me, saying I shouldn't drive drunk and blah blah blah. Fucking hell.