January 19 1998, Monday

I don't have the environment I need. I have the ways and means to New Orleans, but I barely have the will to get out of bed. I need a revolution. I need to be a revolutionary. Risk is lacking in my life, and I'm growing soft and dull and weak and poor and ugly.

I like girls, but there are some things that bother me about them:

• Why do they like boys, or more especially, why do they like the boys they like? Those boys are ridiculous, embarrassing or both. I like Matthew Hart a lot, but the part of him I see girls liking makes me want to throw up. And how come the more of a jerk I am the more I get laid?

• What is the appeal of a smelly squalling infant? A baby with food on its face does not make me hungry, does not make me sigh and say, "Ach du cute!" Diaper changing and meal eating are inherently incompatible.

• I am not thinking anything at all, and I mean that seriously. Well, what I mean is that putting me on the spot isn't going to suddenly make me bare my soul or tell you how bored and lonely I feel.

T

here's a new cat hanging around the house, and I call him Sneezy. He's faintly yellow, small & thin and he has balls. Deya let him in for awhile and Nicholas the Cat didn't know what to make of him. They fought a little, but it seemed Sneezy knew it best suited his diplomatic purposes to be pleasant. Matthew Hart (who has always been suspiciously anti-cat) drew the line on this new character and banished him to the outdoors. It was all for the best. The immigration problem has always been a crisis here at Kappa Mutha Fucka. Beyond that, I think Sneezy was marking territory in the house with his urine, and I don't want any of that.