This diary entry was found scribbled on a face mask outside of 721 Fifth Avenue. It has been examined by several laboratory scientists who have concluded that it was written by a muroid rodent, commonly referred to as a rat. Furthermore, after examining the disdainful tone of the excerpt, sociologists and zoologists have concurred that it is with 100% certainty that they can say it was written by a rat native to New York City, aged approximately 27 months, or 67 human years.

Here is the unedited transcript in its entirety:


Another burning heap of trash in the middle of Broadway! Hallelujah! It’s like New Year’s Day every single day. These human morons like to call it “Groundhog Day” but FUCK GROUNDHOGS. They try to be rodents but I see through that bullshit. Posers! They wouldn’t know a rodent if it gave them and their whole family the plague. A real rodent would not be held up every year by the Mayor to a happy, smiling group of people and news cameras. The only time a politician holds up a real rodent is if it’s dead. D. E. A. D. Dead. If you were a real rodent, the humans would scream bloody murder and run across the street just at the sight of you. They would not be making movies about you starring Bill Murray. But whatever. More trash for me to eat my way through!!!! I LOVE THIS PANDEMIC AND LONG LIVE DE BLASIO!


I spoke too soon. It wasn’t a trash heap as much as eight people sleeping on top of each other with a trash bag over them. Jesus christ, this city has lost any modicum of self-respect. This mayor suuuuuuuuuucks. I couldn’t find a good spicy scallop roll from March-June. I’m really craving Haru. Headed to the gutter.


The gutter was a disaster. Tables and chairs set up with these idiotic nimrods drinking coffee, half of their faces hidden by these stupid masks. One fell on me last week and got stuck to my tail and my neighbors laughed at me for days ‘cuz they thought I had corona. These people are terrible for my brand and mental health, I WANT SUSHI, and I’ve run out of relatives to eat.


I got a tip about an encampment on 51st Street. It better not just be people sleeping on top of each other again. Going to get on the bus and get a ride.


The bus didn’t work. Some Karen spotted me and called 311. Headed down to the subway.


The subway was spotless. Not. One. Crumb. I can usually maneuver between people going unnoticed, but Jesus, it was as empty of these dum dum humans as it was of food. I felt very exposed on the platform all by myself, under the lights. But I kind of liked it. When Broadway comes back, I’m auditioning. I can just see it now. Rats, the Musical.


I have made it to 51st Street and I have found 3 slices of pineapple pizza. Fucking disgusting. I would literally rather live in New Jersey than eat this garbage.


I had made the long trek across town to die on Fifth Avenue. Goodbye, cruel world.


OMG I was just about to throw myself in front of the one moving car I could find but then I found SHRIMP PAD THAI. NEW YORK IS BACK, BABY!!!!!!!!

Discovered and translated by Vicky Kuperman. She has performed nationwide for over a decade and was named one of Huffington Post’s new comedians to watch. Vicky’s been seen on Live From Gotham, Nickelodeon, The Maxim comedy Showcase and heard regularly on SiriusXM.

Her comedy albums When I Could Feel, All Good! and Three’s Comedy are in regular rotation on SiriusXM, and her book How to Spy on Your Neighbor was top 10 in political-humor on Amazon. Her newest album, Love’s a Joke, is available on iTunes.

In her comedy, she talks about everything from her Russian Family, World Travel, and marrying a younger guy, to her favorite topic: dogs.