I’ve had it with this bouncer’s job, tossing
virtual muscle-bound creeps out of Club
Fondle, and owner Stud Wheeler bossing
me like I’m a Neanderthal for grub
and only 50 Linden dollars an
hour. Boobie Shaker, our best exotic
dancer, won’t bed with me. She quit, began
a new gig as a banker. Think I’ll stick
hands into real estate development.
Become a sleaze landlord…Wait a minute.
This Internet fantasy game was meant
to improve my real-world view. I’ve spent it
bogged down in my same lost-soul crap, only
scrapping my dreams. No wonder I’m lonely.
Roger Armbrust
September 9, 2007
