My name is spanky. I like shiny things. My bellybutton feels funny. I go lick floor now. Bye bye. Gu'oink.

So, yeah.

Half the office laid low with microscopic invaders. I personally set up fort on my toilet for three days. I was literally pooping clear water at one point. My intestines converted into a teflon lined speedway with broken toll booths. Wasn't a cork thick enough to block the flow. Skipped out of work the first day. Recouperating outside in the elements none too helpful the rest of the week.

First day back I was talking to an elderly lady about children drinking from drainage ditches in the third world. Earlier that morning I dropped two Imodium. The forces of incontinence and impaction were pitching fierce battles in my guts. An otherworldly bassoon rumble erupted from behind my belt. The lady's dentures nearly popped out as she looked at me with horrified bewilderment. I chuckled and said "welp, this conversation is obviously over".

I was looking quite cracked out. As reported last time, I was sparkin up with fellas from work last Saturday. While drawing in Green Lantern's might through a fine wooden pipe vessel, my lungs were too powerful. The flame crept right into the mouth piece and burnt my top lip. Instant foggy thought bubble popped above my head, "mutherfucker".

Through experience, I know with proper diet I can avoid the cold sores that dogged me my entire childhood. Chocolate and dark tree nuts will produce a festering bullet wound on my kisser. Course, anytime I damage my lips it seems to break down the defenses and lets the lump lumps march on out. Been about three years and then blammo. Why yes, I have been blowing drunk sailors on the docks on my days off ma'am, now please sponsor a child to save them from poverty. Groan.

Martha Plimpton strolled passed me twice on Broadway and Ninety Eighth Street. I thought she looked familiar first breeze by, walking her dog. I figured it out too late. Then I saw her coming down the block again. Brilliant tactic of "I loved you in Goonies". Didn't work. Should have referenced Beautiful Girls instead.

On Bleeker I encountered alien life. This Klingon's eyes constanty scrolled into the corners of his sockets. Somehow he could see from behind his skull. He insisted that, as an organisation, we purchase offshore islands. These islands should then be constructed into education interment camps. All the poor children forcibly removed from their villages and relocated to these growth centers. When they are older and properly trained, we can then set them free in their native lands with tracking devices to monitor their progress. I wished him luck in making it to the mental hospital.

Yesterday was the most eventful. Decided to set up shop in Union Square. We were aware of the protest rally that was scheduled to thunder through the area. Quite looking forward to it actually.

The cops were in full force. CHiPs in chaps. Pigs on hogs. They were decked out in the serious leather S&M gear. Dozens of Harley's lined up ready for head cracking action. They roared in and out of the park as protest squashing duties were called for. I know these guys got rough jobs and maybe I should cut them some slack. Later during the day, most of them had cleared out to monitor hippies further Uptown. Firetrucks rushed in, and New York's bravest were running down into the subway station. Hoping no harm was coming to my fellow New Yorkers, I approached a solo beat cop left back to keep tabs on Union Square. I asked if a fire had broken out in the station. He says, as snidely as possible, "well, let's see here champ, the firemen appear to be going back to their trucks, I don't smell any smoke, what do you think?". Hmmmmm, I think you are a prick. Thank you ever so much for affirming my belief in needle dick pigs overcompensating with Neanderthal machismo.

It made me giggle watching them react to chants of "drop Bush, not bombs". Was glad all those meatheads live in Jersey.

One girl, after stopping her, asked "I have an asshole, wanna touch it?". I peered into the deep blue cloudless sky. Just letting that glory sink in. She looked at me quizically. I think she was asking random people that all afternoon and recording the responses for a thesis. My long meditative pause must have been unique. I suggested that, as lovely as her asshole might be, I'll have to pass as I was working.

A lady was tossing her glove from a bench so her sheep hearding dog could fetch it. In front of her a skeletal junky was bent over like a ladder. The backs of his hands dipping down to the pavement. His knees were turning into molasses. Desperately, his head was begging his body to lay down. Thirty minutes of this heroin dance and he stumbled north.

A godboy jesus freak attempted to turn the tables on me. Doubletalking troll. His teeth were translucent, chips of enable had broken away like aging fresco paintings. Insisting scientific evidence proved the entirety of the bible. Wanted to know if I had any questions about our lord and savior. I asked if he thought christ could have bench pressed a Buick. I wasn't about to follow offspring of some god that couldn't wrestle mighty beasts. I was tempted to pinch his butt as he walked away from me.

Fairly terrible week performance wise. Two signups in four days. Plain booty. Stank booty. At least the sun decided to shine on me the last day. Rosy bald spot goin on here. I am making with the firm caca. The mark of the skanky hooker is fading from my lips. Hopefully I will look respectible for the new week. I gots some kids to save.