show me the money.

work was boring yesterday. a bunch of metalheads came in and were profoundly bad tippers, but wanted to tell me how unbelievably fucking gorgeous i am. a lot. there were about ten of them and they all wanted me to know, which finally prompted me to yell the age-old adage at them: SHOW! DON'T TELL!

if i could fill my closet with "you're gorgeous," i'd have to fucking build myself a whole house of just closets. as it is, the only nice clothes i have anymore are the ones i make myself. and they are fabulous, but i'd like to BUY some once in a while too! and that takes money. scrilla. dough. bennies. come on.

after work i went to the movies with the person i date. i said, "god i only made $125 today." he goes, "that's what i made, too." and i felt bad for complaining. nontheless, i've clearly got to get an additional job at a fancier club. i've been putting it off, pretending it's not so. but mama needs several new pairs of shoes and some expensive dental work.