I'm Homeless And I've Become An Accidental Cuck

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Life sure is a fucking rollercoaster, let me tell ya. 

Two weeks ago, I was hired full time here at Barstool and then a week later I officially became homeless. Isn’t it supposed to work the other way around?

New York City is a life sucking hell hole that truly makes it impossible to survive. How is it possible that I’m finally making decent money and I cannot afford a goddamn place to live? I have a theory that a bunch of billionaire money hungry butt fuck bastards bought out all the cheap apartments throughout the city, JUST so they can watch the city burn for their own personal pleasure. 

I’ve truly and honestly tried everything in order to find a place. I even hired a broker that I couldn’t afford. But he ended up stalking me at my favorite bar two nights in a row so I had to squash that transaction. 

So basically, I had three options on May 1st. Pitch a tent in Times Square, beg a friend to move in with them, or pull the old live-in- the-office trick and just hope no one catches on. (Editor's note: Mantis did that for 6 months and nobody caught on.)

I ended up going with option number two. 

Luckily, my dear sweet pal Brianna (AKA Chickenfry) was ever so kind as to open up her home and take me in. But, I’m not the only straggler in this scenario. Brianna’s boyfriend ALSO could not find a place in time so he has joined us in her home as well. So basically she’s just running an orphanage at this point. 

About four months ago, I lost the keys to my old apartment and would get locked out past 12am every night. So sleeping on couches is nothing new to me. I actually grew quite fond of it, because then I wouldn’t have to go home and be alone. BUUUUT, for the past three mornings I’ve woken up on the couch and thought I could just get up and go home. Then I’m hit with the reality that I am in fact a homeless person. 

One of the many downfalls to being the third wheel in this hostel-structured living situation is that I’ve become an accidental cuck. I have to watch my two best friends make out in my room (the living room) every three minutes. It's not like I can ask these love birds to leave either, it's not my house.

Anyways, I need somewhere to live. If anyone has any leads in the NYC area please hit me up. I’m trying to look at this from a glass half full point of view, but this suuuuuuucks.