After audaciously overstating my financial prowess numerous times (“making trucks and trucks of money”, “six digit salary” are some of the terms I used to describe it), I’d like to be honest with you guys for a change. I am broke.
I feel that now is the right time to publicly admit that I am steadily losing my battle against this oppressive thing called debt. Truth of the matter is I am very poor at managing my money—Take that time when I spent my entire month’s salary on curtain rods and gold door knobs that I have absolutely no use for. Or how about that time I bought weight loss pills off Home TV shopping and they didn’t do anything other than to enlarge my already gigantic man-boobs. I also have a lot of bad vices like picking up expensive prostitutes, murdering them and burying them in my backyard. I also have a shoe fetish and I have an extensive collection consist of wedges, mary janes, pumps, stilletos and jeweled Manolo Blahnik pairs.
All these frills left me in a very bad financial situation and I am at the point where I’d suck dicks to make ends meet. Suicide is an option that often crosses my mind. I mean I could always jump off a bridge and leave my enormous debts for my family to worry about but that’s gay. After temporarily washing all my problems away with Tanduay and turpentine and waking up in a dark alley wearing only a mismatched pair of socks, I have decided to claw my way out of this rut and face my problems like a real man.