Mice, Mice, Mice

May 23, 2020 Diary entry: Well sweet rock candy Jesus, I got mice like crazy here, I got drunk and stoned Mexican mice, I got bald white Krishnan mice, I got black Mooslim dude mice wearing cool shades, shiny shirts, wearing mirror-polished Italian shoes, and flashing big gold wristwatches while their black-hooded mouse wives follow along six feet behind them, I got mean French mice who wear dark glasses and formal tams, and they run the black market down on the docks and they leave their expensive French cigarette butts on my best china, I got one mouse who says he’s the “exterminator”, and he wants a list of my mouse occupants because some of them may have a disease, and he wants to test them, what the hell am I, the hotel concierge, I can’t control what’s going on around here, I’m just a worn out cog in the rusty wheel that is about to drop because my whole brain is rotted and drippy from all the Cheetos, MSG, plant proteins, flouride, mercury, and Schedule One drugs I ingested over the last fifty years, what do I know about mice who appear to be on the run for some kind of nefarious reason, they should follow through with that mouse wall they promised to build, I am not my brother mouse’s keeper, I am simply a plain and simple man who is trying to keep his head above water as his Little Princess floatie tube deflates because of dry rot and I don’t have the breath to blow it back up, nobody has a problem with these mice more than me, I don’t need some low-level local government clerk coming around feigning interest in my personal business when he should be back at the office kissing all the government ass he can because they got robots coming in on line to replace him, but before he goes, the robots are gonna bend him over a government file cabinet and show him why robot love will never leave you wanting, god, these low-level turds just won’t go down the drain, these gas-filled orangatang-droppings of government agents need dropped off a high cliff in the Andes somewhere, I’m sorry Peruvians, I mean no bad JuJu to you, I just want these freaks far away from me, but the thing is, as long as these fugitive mice are under my roof, they will be free from government intrusion, they will live free, they will breathe free, and they will eat free, anyway, where was I headed with this, I think I was headed to the liquor cabinet to see if there is anything left to calm my frazzled nerves, well, this is Paulie, hoping all your mice are good mice, and you are all content and happy, shalom my loved ones, shalom…

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