Monday, June 30, 2008
A few days ago I was walking back to my apartment at night looking forward to annoying Perry for a half hour and then going to sleep when I saw some rats scurrying around the sidewalk. Um, that must be a joke because I SPECIFICALLY moved to this block because I had asked people on it whether there were rats at night on it and they said no. By way of background, my first apartment in the East Village was apparently located on the exact corner where NYC rats hold their Mardi Gras festival and every day after 10,000 hours at work I would come home and have to stand on the street, psych myself up to confront the rats, drop my keys 3 times, yell "I'm coming - move out of the way!" and then run to the door and open it as fast as possible because if a single rat ever attempted to touch me I would take 10 glass bottles and break them over my head.
In any event, I wouldn't have minded seeing rats on the street if they were the kind of rats from An American Tail, like Russian Jewish immigrant rats who were trying to do something positive with their lives, and contribute to this country by doing stuff like singing beautiful songs like "Somewhere Out There." Unfortunately, the rats on my block are not hardworking emigrant rats, they're of the greedy Templeton the Rat variety and all they care about is eating crap out of the garbage and as a result, next time I see them I'm going to tell Perry to do the shit that he was BRED for and start kicking their asses and taking names.