So I'm Poor - Bad Words, Bad Writing, Bad Spelling. Deal with it!

Living on a shoestring budget was never part of the grand life plan. But, in the epic struggle to keep up with the cost of existence, I've found myself sharing my living space with a character straight out of an indie film. Let me introduce you to my quirky roommate – an odd duck, a Michigan-Nevada transplant, and a man who owns nothing but a white van with vibes so strong even the ice cream truck avoids my block. Yes, you read that right. My roommate's personal possessions could probably fit inside the palm of your hand. While I do my best not to pass judgment (who am I kidding?), it's hard not to raise an eyebrow at someone who lacks even the most basic creature comforts. Towels? Nah. Furniture? Absolutely not. But, hold on, he does own a van that makes the ice cream truck steer clear. Impressive, I guess? In my more empathetic moments, I try to remind myself that this guy might have a story worthy of a Netflix documentary. Perhaps he's been through the wringer too, a...

In the heart of the bustling city, nestled among towering skyscrapers, lay the offices of "Steadfast Solutions," a technology company that had weathered the storms of time. At the heart of this tale was Alex Dawson, a dedicated employee who had been with the company since its inception. With each passing year, the company's success soared to greater heights, innovation was celebrated, and profits multiplied. Yet, Alex found themselves in a curious position – a steadfast fixture in the company's landscape, a rock of reliability, and a fount of unwavering commitment. However, amidst the ever-evolving technology and shifting paradigms, one thing remained unchanged for Alex: their salary. It had been sixteen years since Alex first walked through the doors of Steadfast Solutions, brimming with enthusiasm and youthful aspirations. Back then, the startup had been a small outfit with dreams bigger than its office space. Alex's role had evolved over the years, from a junio...

Titbit of info. If you blow your nose on your shirt, snot is clear and it will dry like water. So unless you are sick or have crusty boogers you are safe to blow your nose on clothing. It will most likely dry before anyone will notice. Plus it is really fun to gross out the germafobes. 

So I’m poor.  Being poor means that sometimes you have roommates. Now ideally these roommates would pay you money, buy their own groceries, clean up after themselves, perhaps split the utilities.   Or you could go the route I take and bring in homeless people. The ones who have no job. If they have a job they are up to their eyeballs in debt, maybe have a gambling addiction or like to cook meth in the bathtub. So far I have housed people of all those scenarios. My new favorite is what I like to call the Mexican stand off. My current roommate has a 7yr old. I watch him when she is making money or is trying to have a social life. She is a single mom recently separated, doesn’t have two dimes to rub together, no car, and a crippling social anxiety. She has a boyfriend. I have an odd rash, made more odd by my extreme lack of a sex life. The Mexican Standoff comes when I am charge of said child. He hates me. When I ask him questions he just stares at me. If I force him i...

So I’m poor. I’m poor in a few ways. Besides being poor regarding money, I make a fuckton of poor decisions. In the long list of poor decisions are men, there are a few that stand out. I was on again off again with this guy for over 7 years. I was of corse in love with him… He had a brother that was a really good guy. The brother married this total bitch. I swear that always happens. The super sweet amazing people are always with the cock juggling thunder cunts of the world. You are in your head screaming, "dump them!!!!" I usually slip and scream it out loud. Oops.

So I’m poor. I’m the kind of poor that when gas prices drop $0.04 I get out of the car and do the running man while fueling up. The real running man not this stupid shit going on right now. So besides being poor I am also nuts. I think that might be a product of being poor. I find when at some point if you have a not had an expendable income you find easy entertainment. Laugh at the small shit. Create your own entertainment. So when I was doing the running man at the gas pump I was too excited to avoid the oil slick and …. Well lets say I have now decided to now wait until gas drops another $0.10 cents before copiously dancing at the pump again. Just a FYI the saying mixes like blood and oil is now a thing. Also not a great way to impress the hot guy with a motorcycle who you don’t notice until he gets close enough to point out the fun fact about the blood and oil.