Masterminx

I keep running into references about strippers, every where I look. Strippers are my kryptonite. And, ouch.

I have also seen some pro-ana forums, which I never meant to do. I don't like those things. I try not to expose myself to those. They make something ugly rattle loose inside me. And come out.

I remembered something Ruxpin said when we were in the parking lot the other day, on the way home. I said something about strippers and breast implants, and how I'd be doing that if I could make money at it. It would be slightly less degrading than the job I have now. But, Ruxpin pointed out that most strippers are in the B-cup range. Then he said, "Who wants to see a D-cup-sized girl flopping around up there? Nobody!"

I just looked at him. Umm...? Thanks.

Now that I'm embarrassingly solitary, I have come to measure the value of my life by the length of time that I could lie dead in my apartment before someone noticed. Right now, I'm worth about four days. I can change that, if I wanted to. But I think it's safe to say that after four days, someone at work might come looking for me. Maybe.

If it were up to my parents, I could lie dead for about a month before they noticed. Possibly two months. So, if I quit my job, I could be dead for two months , for sure, without anyone noticing. My cat would probably eat me. If you think about, even my landlord would have to give me 45 days.

That's so dark, isn't it? This is seriously what I think my life is worth.

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