Where has it gone...

...that old spongy couch that your old way past expiration date aunt Sheila used to have? You know that one reeked of urine, cigarettes and sweat to such an extent that you could smell it on you even the day after you where forced to visit her, sit on her lap and kiss her warty, wrinkly old lady face.

I'm not surprised that you tossed it into oblivion in the small woodland hideaway behind the parking lot in Queens. I just hope that aunt Sheila passed away before you torched it and not the other way around.

Where has it gone...

...that "man-size" Trojan condom with strawberry flavour that you always kept in your wallet, you know the one that you used to pull out and show your pal's on those late nights out drinking as you drunkenly gazed round at all the chicks in the room and with a sinister smile told your friends that one day some lucky lady of your fine choice would be the happiest lady in the world as you showed her your love skills.

Well either it finally wore a hole in your wallet after the last eight years of waiting and fell out or it was in fact too big and fell off before you could get to the goal. Secondly what the hell is it doing in the middle of the street? Do you bring your looser friends to this location of interest, point out the rubber and brag about how happy some lady was after you showed her your love skills? You pathetic gimp we all know that you're still a virgin and that just had to open the package to see if it still tasted of strawberry even after the expiration date has passed years ago.

Where has it gone...

...that right foot leather Pampili shoe that you had on last Saturday as you staggered around the neighbourhood looking for your front door to your flat after your weekly night out with the girls?

We still can't imagine how the dang someone looses a shoe? And the condition you must have been on the way home to loose a shoe just boggles our minds? Do you know how many thousands you have wasted on lost shoes this past year? Don't you know where your limit of booze is? You really should know that you and the girls aren't Sex in the City so get over yourself, and if you learned to take it easy with the Cosmopolitans you wouldn't be walking home missing a shoe and being so smashed that you didn't even register the fact that your left foot was frozen cold and wet until the next morning. No Mr. Right is ever going to fall for a sloppy Sue so it's no wonder that you still have to get wasted to stop thinking about the fact that you and your right index finger is the closest you've been to a serious relationship in sixteen months.

Where has it gone...

...that chirpy yellow Kashmir kiddie cardigan that you had to have and put down a small fortune on buying just so that you could show off your new trendy accessory/baby to your girlie friends at work?

First off, babies puke on everything that they wear so good luck with the dry cleaners bill for this unnecessary garment, because we guess we won't be seeing mommy ruining her new nails washing by hand will we. But now that you've lost it there's really no need to worry anyhow is there? You can still flaunt your boyfriends income with your new mini compact pram, the trendy accessories that you overload it with, your up to date hip momma clothes, and when your not talking about the baby you can talk about your new house that you just bought in the suburbs and the fact that you finally have place to park that second car on your drive and not on the street with the other commoners cars. Just don't let anyone know about the fact that you and the hubbie fight about your trashed economy all the time and that you almost don't have any money for food so mother in law keeps you both fed, as you keep on paying the mortgages and loans for all the shit you have to have to pull off your charade. Like that chirpy yellow Kashmir cardigan you still haven't told Josh that you've lost...

Where has it gone...

...that butt ugly porta-potty-fluid blue jacket with fake beige leather details that you used to have? You know the one that you bought quite cheap at Chelsea Thrift Shop on 8th Ave. in the city just so that you could prance around with a "Look at me I'm so fucking Ironic and my clothes prove it" smirk on your face to match your usual dorky clothes style.

Well the true irony to the story is that when I last saw it, it was wrapped around the shoulders of a grubby dude with a beard who told us he was currently living in a duct down in the subway and you know what, it fit his image way better than the art director / nerd chic style you try so hard to pull off.

Where has it gone...

...that pot of honey that you where sent out to buy by your dominatrix girlfriend. You know that kind that tingles on your body as she licks, bites and chews it from your nipples and lubes up your sphincter with before assaulting you with her strap on.

We guess you'll be sat fully dressed on the couch watching Friends' re-runs as a punishment when she finds out tonight.

Where has it gone...

...that plastic bag with those small plain rolls that you where sent out to buy for breakfast on Saturday morning? You know that nothing soaks up late Friday night, early Saturday morning red wine from your gut and eases you through the hangovers better than plain rolls don’t you.

I suggest that you either set of for the chemists and pick up some asprin before that punch-in-the-face headache kicks in or get your shit together and stop drinking so fucking much you damned wino bum who can’t even go to the fucking shop and back without loosing your rolls.