I’ve been working on a sugar daddy. He’s perfect. Ninety, rich, handsome, rich, did I mention rich? Only down fall is sex. It’s like shooting pool with a rope. In my sexual frustration, I went to the store to buy me some squash . There stood a sexy, after school stock boy. I called him over and told him exactly what I was looking for. I grabbed his package and he grabbed my fun bags. I knew it was exactly what I needed. I took him home. I showed him how to scream proper grammar and he showed me his long division. Damn, he might be new at this but he’s as thick as and pounds me like a stallion. It’s just what the doctor ordered. The sugar daddy didn’t seem to mind as long as I brought him back some raw footage. Can’t find the tape from last time though. Fuck.

The other problem is my Sugar Daddy’s stupid baby sister. Who in the hell thought, hey lets have a boy then give him a little sister to torture him for the next 90 years? The other day while I was giving him mouth to mouth after a minor heart attack(I swear the electric shock nipple clamps were his idea) she tried to hit me with her oxygen tank. Good thing I’m so nice, I just turned the knob and made her high. She’ll thank me after she quits seeing the leprechauns. I found my gold at the end of the rainbow.

So far she hasn’t noticed the wedding planner, I figure if I keep her high she might actually give me a nice wedding gift too. So I added laughing gas to the last tank. Hope no one notices her bursts of manic laughter as anything other than the fact she is watching old Golden Girls reruns. After the wedding, we were thinking of adopting. Angelina Jolie has had the right to the foreign baby black market for far to long. I learned from Anna Nicole, you have that shrunken old man’s baby. With his money I might just have fucking twins.