A super sexy intelligent queen is out in the city right now. She told me last week that "I love you Frank and it's not even funny." She's a bartender - trouble I know. But I like trouble. We started making out at the bar she works at and I could feel it. You know it, that it when lips tingle and your stomach flips. And I could tell by the way she quivered and her eyes softened that she felt it too.

But fuckin banks and fuckin money. I got paid over a week ago (spent the last of my money the "it" night), and the bank still won't clear the fucking check. Fuckin holiday fuckin weekend. I'm about to get off work at 11pm, and I could go to the bar (she won't let me pay for anything anyway) but I gots no green. And feel like a tiny asshole loser walkin the streets of Manhattan without. So I'll go home sulk, won't even be able to jerk off cause I hate myself right now. I geuss I could grudge masturbate.

She's so beautiful. I wrote her a poem. She told me this story about how a regular customer of hers was commisioned to write a poem for a magazine. So he based it on a fantasy he had of her. And then brought it to the bar one of the nights she worked. It was so degrading and sick that she had a hard time working the rest of the night. Needless to say but she bounced his ass out of there for good. I came in after it happened and she recounted the sad tale. So a couple of months later I gave her a new poem. And then the "it" night she told me that she had been rereading it and it was sweet. I am going to get no sleep tonight.

Okay - she has a boyfriend. But fuck it, I really couldn't give a shit. I figure you get one maybe two chances in life to find the one who can groove on your level, understand you, excite you for the rest of your life. If I'm doing that for her and he isn't well then that scrub has gotta go. Actually, its kinda fucked cause I didn't find out that she had a boyfriend till the "it" night. He actually walked on into the bar while we were kissing. We kissed alot that night. Ugh.

I am gonna cry.

I actualy will feel a little shitty if she leaves him for me. That happened to me last year. That hurt. But, after the bitch cheated on me, lied to me, and then broke up with me to go live with the other guy (who was big and dumb looking, like Lenny from Steinbeck's novel Of Mice and Men) the scales fell from my eyes. She was a nasty, coke sniffing, bad teeth having, terrible in bed, vapid loser. And I was no longer in pain or mad at either of them. Fuck, she did me a favor of not having to dump her further on down the road. He'll live. He'll find his it girl.

And I can't see her tonight cause I'm a broke ass chump. "No I don't want no scrub". Nobody does.

I haven't been able to eat or sleep for a week. Won't be any different tonight.

Gonna go feel like crap. Bye.