Christ, how empty is life if people actively wonder about me?

Anyhooch, I'm not dead, and yes I've somehow entangled myself in a relationship with a Nurse who works at the hospital next to the Atlantic City Hotels, you know, the one that looks like its actually a part of the Tropicana?

This isnt going to last, I am not cut out for this relationship shit. I love freedom too much....and drugs....and whores....and MY MONEY (that's not earmarked for drugs and whores.) I've actually blown more with this Milf Nurse in what amounts to a total of 19 non-consecutive days together than I have on the last 6 months of whores, strip clubs and oxy dealers combined. What the fuck????? Just proves my point I've made a hundred times already: Marriage is wayyyyyy more expensive than a well planned stripper/hooker agenda. <Burg pats himself on the back>

Talk about hypocrisy: This attractive, well meaning but annoying broad expresses "concern" about my pill popping. I do my best Nicholas Cage from Leaving Las Vegas and say to her "I'll give you whatever and do whatever, blah blah blah, but dont ever.....EVER talk to me about my pills..." And yet, when I take her out for a night she orders several bottles of the most expensive, god awful tasting wine that atlantic city's Dying Restaurants have to offer, gets plastered so that she has to sit on my lap while I wheel back to wherever-the-fuck, and then lovingly pukes on my w/chair footrests as she struggles with my fly pretending she is about to blow me instead of just passing out. And this is a ER Trauma Nurse folks....

I'm not long for this relationship bullshit, I'm already testing breakup/dump lines. How's this sound: "Babe, I cant come down to visit for the next 7 weeks, I have to do my taxes...."....??? Hello? *tap tap* Is this thing on?