A Mark, a Yen, a Buck or a Pound

Daddy 4got 2 send me a cheque this week. WTF, DAD? How am I supposed to get wazted? How am I supposed to buy pizza? What's gonna happen to me when I finish this pack of gum? I'm almost out of shampoo, what will I do then? I think I need a new hoodie. I lost a glove. I owe Rachel 5 dollars. I dropped my toothbrush in my boot (must remember not to place my toiletries on my shoe shelf.) I NEED THINGS. h8 u, daddy. Hope u have to use a dirty toothbrush, too.

I've been freaking out. I've been waiting for days. I've been checking my mail on the hour. I got a bill and a bank statement, I even got a mixtape from my elusive pen pal, Professor Paul (it sucked. h8 him now.), but nothing from Daddy. I felt scorned and forgotten. I wondered if he sent my sister her cheque and wondered what that meant. I wondered if he had forsaken me and if he loved her more. Arguably, he did give her the better name. Although Gemma's not really something to brag about, either. (thnx a lot, weird parents.)

Finally, I had had enough. I called Daddy to see what the fuck his puh-roblem was. After a few disinterested inquiries as to his health and his work, I cut into my purpose. I find it is best to handle matters of money with subtelty and cunning:
"I like to get things in the mail."
"Yeah, it's nice isn't it?"
"Mmhmm"
(long silence.)
"I checked my mail today."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Anything good?"
"No..."
"Well, I got something in the mail today."

Whenever Daddy tells me about something he got in the mail, it's never good. It's always an overdue parking ticket. And it's always my fault.
I attempted to sidetrack him:

"One of my teachers has a funny accent and she is tall and skinny!"
"That's....nice. Anyway, do you know what I got?
(thwarted.)
"I got one of your parking tickets....from October"
"Oh."
"Do you wanna know how much it's for?"
" Nah-uh."
"$150."

I was floundering,

"Well anyway, you forgot to send me my cheque for the week, so if you could you know just...send it..." :(

Shouldn't have said that last part. Daddy's mad. No cheque for me (BUT HAHA, SUCKER! I'VE GOT YOUR DISCOVER CARD! FORGOT I HAD THAT DIDN'T YOU!!!?? yeah, I forgot too.)


Credit cards are fun. You can use them to buy expensive organic products. (My new shampoo's made out of carrots!!!!) But it's cold hard cash that I really need. You can't buy drugs and alcohol with Daddyz plastic. And even if you could, I bet dealers wouldn't take Discover. They'd be all like " Visa and Mastercard only." Nobody takes Discover.

And so, until Daddy sends me my cheque, I am left to fend for myself in this cruel and cut-throat world. I am left alone, a scared and naive child, while everything falls to pieces around me. But I will do the only thing I can do...survive.

So, I am selling my belongings on craigslist for money. If anyone is interested, or knows anyone who might be interested, in used underwear or other garments of that sort, give me a cawl. You have my number.

(plzzz send cheque, daddy. am sry 4 what i did with the parking tkt. am also frightened.)