blank'/> The Libe ob Don Estorbo de la Bodega Dominicana: My libe as a cad

Monday, July 7, 2008

My libe as a cad

Do I gard a story por djou?

I doan' know where to begeen:
Thees weeken', eef you can call eed thad, the Wooman had me yompeen' through hoops:

She tell' me to weed the garden. Garden? I as' hor? Thad ees a beeg wor' por a place muoi pequeno. WEED! she says! Pull oud all thad grass thad you are always cheween' arn!

Fine! I say, I weell do eed eef eed keells me!

Aghh hughgh ack agh arbgh %^&*$#@ FFRRarggghhhuuujjsh!

I feel strange so I taghe myself to the gotter to throw orp frarm the roop. Hopefully arn the head of a darg.

Estoooooooooooooooooooooooorbo, I heear hor cry. I neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed you!

Eed nebber ends, I theenk.

Whad the forghe??? She has cobered my table een red roun' theengs and...leedle onions.

Why deed you do thees? I as'...

Because there ees no space eenside, she says.

Whad am I suppose to do weeth thees theen's, I as'?

Guard them frarm peegeeons! she say.

So I deed. I hade peegeeons. Worse than teecks.

Soon I fall asleep. When I waghe, the red theen's an' leedle onions are garn. Instead there are bags an bags ob plantas. Muchas blordee plantas. Whad do you theenk thees ees, a garden? I as' hor?

Hello? Hello? My name ees Estorbo? The keeng. Who are you?


Smells fonnee.

I decide to ged some exercise, and go down to make scratcha.

The the Wooman leabs. Again???? I am alone. All, all alone. I hab no one . No one lorbs me. Where ees she? Who am I? Whad ees libe? Oh! I see hor. She ees cormeen' bag. An' she ees carryeen' sormetheen por me! Keeddee Leeder!

Libe has meaneeen'!

Moral ob the story. Eed ees nard the journey to the Leeder Tray thad counds, eed ees whad you fine' ad your destination.

Sheet happens.


  1. 'Storbie, your a poet and a philosopher. Really.

  2. Dear Don, I petition to have cockroaches added to your list of favorites. ;-)

  3. Ees embarrasseen'!