I woghe the Wooman yos before 2am. Porque? I was hongree. She tole' me to go bagh to sleep. Then she had a fighd weeth the mosqido ned. Then I woghe hor at 6am. Why? I was more hongree. She stombled oud ob bed.She say, Sheet! I say: ?
Then I say, You hab dorn eed again, haben't you?
Yes, she say, I hab. Sheet.
You hab ron oud ob pelleds again, hab you nard?
Si, she say, I hab. Doan' worry.
Do I loogh worry'? I as'...
She open the corpboard. She open the drawer. She make-a click soun'.
WHAD?????
She starts to open a teen ob ....FEESH! Toona. For humans. Frarm Spain, een arleeb oil.
......! .......
Eed ees a dream. I peench myself. Ees deefeecolt. I hab no opposeen' thombs. I steeck myself weeth a claw. OW! I yam awaghe. Eed's real.
Ugh, she says, Estorbo, 6am ees to orly to be smelleen' toona.
Forghedabou'eed, I say, geeb eed to me!
My Gard.
While I ead, she goes bagh to bed.
Tonighd? same theen'. Again she forgheds the pelleds. Yippee! An' you know whad thad means: toona for breakfas'.
I lorf the pope, man!
My dear Lily,
ReplyDeleteI'm very happy for you. Enjoy while it lasts. Don't push your luck. And remember to go on a journalistic roof patrol this weekie.
Four hungry gingers and a fat tabby, no cat food here either. She is forgetful with a head full of dragons. So, we gie her one hour, then we will start eating the birds in the garden, starting with the pretty one with the pink feathers. Why else does She think we have been getting all this climbing practise in? We hunt as a pride, so She better get shopping!
ReplyDeleteLeave the pope out of it, Bobo, he's got nothing to do with tuna. Believe me.
ReplyDelete%&&*!!!@#@*#!^%*^^4%&666!*$%
ReplyDeleteOK escuse me, blardy Blarghair ees meseen' orp my carmends:
ReplyDeleteFors', the corsewor's I lefd wor por Beence: my name. ees nard. Leelee!!!!! OK! I yam Don Estorbo de la Bodega Dominicana, heear me roar: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
Geenger Keeddees: my blarg ees your blarg. Maybe I can fine'some feesh por you. Bords? I hab no bords. Only fat flyeen rads, I mean peegeons, wheech teease me sometheen' terreeble. My carleeague Welleen'ton, een Cape Townm catches moch bords. He ees a keeller.
Breeg: I yam a Catoleeck. How can I forghed the Pope?
LOL Estorbito you hate it so much when I call you Lily that you call yourself Marie, now?
ReplyDeleteOK: this is the Woman: blogger is ticking me off. It is ticking Estorbo off too.
ReplyDeleteMany of the last comments were not sent to Estorbo for moderation. They simply appeared on our common Dashboard, unannounced, and said they were awaiting moderation. So, not conuslting Estorbo, I said fine, publish them. Annoying.
Now the cat feels his privacy has been invaded. Also published were ages-ago comments from Brigitte, which had never before appeared anywhere. The Mcblogger effect.
Ages ago comments from me? But I wasn't born yet!
ReplyDelete