I would prefer to live and let live. Nothing like skitchy drywall rustling and critters running along the shadows to freak a freak out. Impossible to enjoy my Green Lantern powers with meices crawling around me. Sparks that paranoia all up in the head. Churns the insomnia butter. Time to perish, my diminutive uninvited guests.

Unfortunately, the building's exterminator service only shows once a month, on the first Thursday. Larry the Stupor suggested I toss glue traps everywhere. Wonderful.

Glue traps are sick. Rather have a stable of tarted up robot mouse harlots to lure the jerries elsewhere. Time space anomaly void holes installed to transport them to the wilds of Siberia. Maybe play lemming piper anthems to mesmerise them into leaping to their deaths from my rooftop. Industrial vacuum snares, zipping them through miles of tubing, launching them across the river towards Jersey. Dealing with a loaded glue trap is an unfun experience. Just might be forced to do it anyway.

The shaft is all healed up. Doc seemed to think I damaged junior with improperly moisturised palms. I refrained from informing him I tend to wank with steel wool. Joke. Steel wool, right. Sheesh, I mean c'mon. No no no. I use burlap sacks filled with sand and sea shells.

Enough of a tummy bubbling worry fest to request the full range of blood tests anyway. Apparently, it is NYC law that patients must have a consultation with a social worker before any STD checks can be performed? One too many disgruntled drippy dick loonies spraying the clinics with street sweepers I suppose. First available appointment is Monday morning. So more waiting waiting waiting. In my brain, until told otherwise, I've got every bug know to man coursing through my arteries.

The scourge of the Lower East Side.

Tis the season for me to lurk the streets grumpy anyway. Might as well be a malaise carrier. Murderers of fledgling pine trees displaying the spoils of their axe. Cramping the sidewalks with their criminal evidence. Listen up yuletide snots, don't expect me to give you a pass just cause you are buying holiday cheer for your brats. You clog up the one, now narrow, passageway without paying attention to the foot traffic, and I will drive my shoulders into you. Floss with my ass hair. Goddamn christians always spilling your overflowing dogma in the way. You'd be the first to squawk if it was hanukkah bushes or ramadan trinkets blocking your path. Course other faiths seem to have a modicum of restraint during "holy" days. Keep that tinsel god glitter vomit to yourselves. Bitch.

Reminds me that a couple from St. Louis were on the other side of aisle from me on the plane back home to sweet sweet Manhattan. Bragging about the same trip they make every year to the hell of Midtown for all the garish sprinkle tinkle of mirth apocalypse. In their own words, "We always go to New York this time of year, all the decorations in the shop windows, and it's so crowded! We love it!" Jeezus, I was shaking on my floatation device cushion, desperately trying to hold in the rage.

Fond desire to see a pack of baseball bat wielding miscreants assail the sheep that clamor about outside the morning news variety pablum shows. Shove those insipid homemade posterboard "I'm from Cumgargle Texas" signs up their nostrils. Tourism and retardation are a self fullfilling cause and effect spiral. Let the vicious muggings commence!