bitter melon

So yesterday afternoon the sun decided to pop out and I got to go running after work. I ran like a bitch, a man bitch. I ran like a mutha-fucka. I ran until my cold, little baboon heart was ready to pop. No checking out chicks getting off the bus, no idiot cyclist riding on the sidewalk, no cheese-dick runners trying to race with me. Yeah I had a good run.

I spent a few hours last night listening to yet another tube, this one I bought from Steve’s Music down on Queen. It didn’t sound as good as the one I bought from eBay but sweet nonetheless. I want more tubes, more headphone amps, more audio equipment! Fuck, I need help.

There are some sick fuckers on eBay. I’ve noticed that there are people who wait till the very last few minutes before an auction closes and then place their bids. I guess the theory is that there won’t be enough time for someone to outbid them. Sneaky. Or is that how everyone does it?

So last night (while listening to tube) I was on Lavalife just to see. That is so not happening. I have been snubbed and ignored from all corners. Maybe I need to start lying on my profile. Yeah, I’m 6 feet tall and muscular. I work as an investment banker on Bay Street. I normally drive from my penthouse condo on Harbourfront to work in my beemer but like to take out my convertible on weekends. I’m looking for a hot, slutty, gold-digging ho-bag that I can show off to my friends who are also rich and also have hot, slutty, gold-digging girlfriends. Um yeah, I’m just a little bit bitter.

Today is hot and muggy. I think I’ll go for another run after work. Because I can.