Oh my Gawd, now I know what that Sleeping Gold Man statue is all about, yikes!

It is an old Greek oracle kind of an omen or warning. Pay your debt or be in chains, your gold dresses and stilettos won't help you once you are a homeless dosser( Glaswegian for drunk man) sleeping in the park in the baking sun, frying away and no one even cares..,

Sob, boo hoo.. I started crying hysterically in the gallery at the thought of my most miserable end approaching me in no time at all once the police read my blog and Rufus identified me as the one who almost got away.

The case, the case that the Gold Sleeping Man never bothered to close, that looks like all my good designer clothes stuffed in there being ruined. Oh, it is getting more ghastly by the minute. Woe is me. What is to become of me now.

But everyone in the gallery presumed I was simply a performance art piece and ignored me and no one tried to help me or calm me down, it was so cruel. What would Wee Mumsy and Big Daddykins say when they heard their darling eldest princess was to go to jail or be a homeless dosser in the union square park?