Mon Dieu Je Suis Harcele

Feb 17, 2020 Diary entry: Paulie may have to postpone his new Dream Diary venture into writing, it seems the only dreams I’m having are about mice, tough mice, tough French mice, the kind of French mice you’d expect to see on the docks, adding up their black market take for the week, mice who walk upright and wear dark glasses, they smoke expensive French cigarettes and say threatening things to me, stuff like “Where’s your cat”, “My boys want to kick his ass”, “If you don’t get some decent Brie in the house, my boys are gonna kick your ass”, “We want cheesecake, open the fridge door for us, then my boys are gonna kick your ass”, I have vermin in my house, they are in all my dreams, I can’t get them out of my mind, they are in my head like hungry night workers are in IHOP, they wake me in the middle of the night to fix them Camembert French toast with a slight lemon glace over the top, and the whole time, the lead mouse guy is telling me his boys are gonna kick my ass, I can’t hardly get a good night’s rest anymore, if I’m not running in my dreams, I’m up half the night mixing eggs and sugar, and “the proper amount of French vanilla”, or “My boys are gonna kick your ass”, “My boys all have graters and your ass is cheesecake friend”, if I forget to leave the lid off the peanut butter again, I don’t know what they might do, how do I get myself into these messes, you’d think I’d have learned by now to steer clear, I can’t tell you how it feels, I wish I could tell you how it feels, I’ve never felt this way, well, it’s time to go, the souffle is about ready to come out of the oven and I still have baguettes to make, this is Paulie saying “Mon dieu je suis harcele”, and “Shalom”…

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