Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Third landing demonstrator

I witnessed a mouse with a small sign in front of my apartment door pacing back and forth. It's a typical lateral formation just in front of the threshold of my front door. He's demonstrating general dissent inside apartment buldings built before 1900. These buildings lack the glitter and glam of luxury condominiums in highrises over looking the Lower East Side (they don't exist, not yet). I know these mice are from Long Island. I know they like to drink $7 smirnoff ice's and/or $12 banana daiquiris. Much to my chagrin, I can never invite them in and charge them for a cheaper daiquiri, since I've been off the rum for a bit now. I wouldn't even have spare vodka to offer, and I will not insult anyone with Mr. Boston 100 proof vitriol. No, my liquor cabinet is clean. I could offer some high-dose oxycotin, but then again I'm not going to let on just how many downers I'm taking per day. Also, I don't want a drugged up mouse to OD in my living room. With growing contempt for myself, I yell, "FUCK YOU, DIX HILL CUNTS!" as I try to hide my failed attempt at sensationalizing vermin demonstrators. The mouse ran off, things neutralized. Let them run away. Go visit your upper crust hosts on the 23rd floor. I've hung a piece of white paper, scrawled with a simple message for them:

Labels: , ,


Blogger LiAlSi2O6 said...

john you need to move the fuck out of nyc, you can live with me! no butt sex though!

6:12 PM  
Blogger rada said...

know but sehccks? fuk dat.

3:55 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home