My Crankypants Mantra

Have I complained about the weather yet? Have I complained about the radiators in my apartment making more noise than the annual Ghosts of Christmas Past convention? Have I complained lately about the miserable chattering pigeons in my airshaft that wake me up at 5am every morning? Have I complained about the guy upstairs who just got a new monster sound system so that he can enjoy the Explosion Channel in 5.1 surround all day? Have I complained about the 15 hospitals at the end of my block and their fleet of 500 ambulances? Have I complained about the mysterious unseen bagpiper that practices nightly on a rooftop down the street? Have I complained about the woman next door and her air-raid siren alarm clock?

No, I haven't. Because this is New York City and you just have to suck it up, bitch. Everybody says that and I believe them. I am not complaining. This is New York. I am not complaining. This is New York. This is New York. This is New York.