blank'/> The Libe ob Don Estorbo de la Bodega Dominicana: September 2010

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Thees ees the en' my frien'...

Nuevo York ees waideen' por beeg storm. Mucha lluvia. I yam waideen'.

I yam goeen' to drown the raccoon. I heear he lighe agua. He weel corm to wash hees leedle bandido paws een the pordle arn Raccoon House roop. I weell make-a yompa frarm behine'. I weell push his faze eento the poddle.

I weell defead heem!!! The soun' ob the rain weel drown the death stroggle.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Oud ob the clarset ad las'

Eed was so terreeble. Fibe days een the clarset weeth northeen' bod a bag of pelleds, sorm papehair towels an' the dreepeen' agua frarm the keetchen seenk.

Thanks to you the Wooman gard the messayge an' was force' to release me.

Why, whyyyyy why porquewhy you deed thees to me? I as' hor, weepeen' yos a leedle.

To teach you a lesson, cad.

WHAD lesson???

Thad there ees more to libe than yos pelleds, she say.

Onbeliebable.

I was so traumatize' I wen' to bed immediate'.

I had to sleeb por a larng larng time. Was no space een the clarset to make-a stredge.

Enorf weeth the camera, already!

Go. Ay-way!

 Then I wen' to the terrace to maghe sorm sparghs.

Ahhhrghngnggag, grass, nomnom.

Maybe I leab grass parcel arn hor peellow?

"There ees more to libe than yos pelleds."

Can you beleeb thees?

Monday, September 27, 2010

ESSE O ESSE

Weell sormworn pleease tell the Wooman I yam storck een the clarsed an' cannard ged oud?

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep?

Don Estorbo

Sent frarm my iPawd, beta bersion.

(Eed can sen' email bord eed cannard open the forgheen' clarsed frarm the eenside...I call the poh-leece bod they theenk I yam a crank: Whad,  you are a cad, an' you are trabbed een the clarsed, an you doan' know your "Wooman's" telephone nombre...? Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaajajajajajajaja. Cleeck.)

Monday, September 20, 2010

Bloghair maghe-a me crazee!

I am so mad! I yos reply personal to all your carmends arn TWO posesds an bloghair made my replies deesappear! I yam goeen' loco, forgheen' bloghair.

I can't do eed again. I yam sorry! I yam so fain' weeth hongair I mos hab a snag ad wornce. My blord sugar ees low.

Grazias to eberyworn por the carmends, an' also especial to sorm new cads - booghstore cads, 9lb cad, you know who you are, ok? OK!

Orpdate: &*^^$#eeeeeep. I rescue' the carmend frarm my gmail. You can fine' my reply to My Nighd een those carmends, OK? The order reply ees last, garn porebber. Garn, deesappear, yos lighe my keettens.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Momofuku cad

I need my bonny...

I yad a berber' bad dream. Nighd. Mare.

Ad fors' eed ees good. I dream I yam ad Momofuku an' there ees thees wonnerful platt-hair ob cheecken weengs. I yam so essited to be eadeen' thees special or-dair whad ees usually por the whole table, an' eed ees yos me, Estorbo,  alone een the restaurant, weeth all thees fry cheecken. Then the cheecken torn eento an abalanche, ees raineen' raineen' cheecken cheecken, an' I yam bein' buried alibe,  nooooooooooo!

I yam on-dair the mountayn ob weengs.

I yam goeen' to die.

Dios mio.

Bod then ees cormeen' Dabeed Chang weeth the abolanch pole, deegeen' down eento the weengs to fine' signs ob libe. He ees lookeen' por me, Don Estorbo! He knows I yam buried! He ees goeen' to rescue me!

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep I yam down here ad the bardarm ob the weengs! I cry.

Poghe poghe, Ow! He fine me! He deeg me oud! I yam safe!

Bod no, he ees loogheen' ad me. He say, Whad a nice FAD cad, he mos weigh abou' 19lbs: yos whad I need por tonigh's especial arn the menu.

...

An' he torns me eento carnfit ob cad een bacon fad.

An' he sorbs me weeth Beeb lettuce leabes an' raw oyst-hairs arn the side.

An' the Smoothman  an' the Wooman corm een. An' they ORE-DAIR me!

__________________________________________________


....I knew eed woul' en' lighe thees.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

My nigh'


Thees morneen' the Smoothman ees makeen' carffee an' the Wooman stombles ento the leebeen'room an' he says to hor, polide, How deed you sleep?

Good, thank you, she say. How deed you sleep?

Nard bad, he say, Ok, bod nard bad.

....

Silence.

Estorbo? say the Wooman.

Si? I say.

How deed you sleep?

Fonny you shoul' as', I say.

Oh gard, she say.

Yes, I say: Well, I deedn' sleep so goo'.

Reeally, she as'? I though you slepd preedy well.

The Smoothman roll his eyes.

Well, I say, I deed sleep preedy well between 2 and 3 am.

Si, she say, Een the meedle ob the bed. Stredghed oud, so that I yad to balance arn 6 eenches arn the side.

Thee ees my story, I say. Pleease doan' eenterropt...

.....

I carntinue: An' then ad 3 am I woghe orp.

The Smoothman sigh'.

Ad 3 am I woghe orp, I carntinue, and I was hongree! Bod I said to myself, be reasonable [the Smoothman maghes snorteen' noise, so rude]. So I go bag to sleep. I yam a reasonable cad! I sleep anorder twenny seben meenutes. Then I waghe orp, an' I yam hongree!

So I decide to as' for food. Bod I yam so ber' tired thad when I open my mouth, no soun' corms oud. Then I doze arff.

I waghe orp again. Weeth my excellen' cad eyes I see the deegetal clarck. Eed is 4am. Thees time I decide to maghe a carncerted effor' an' I pomp orp the bolume.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

The Smoothman ged orp, fas'. He say some badwor's. Bod he feed me! I seddle down to my bowl an' I coun'  my pelleds. Hey! I yab been scammed. Thees bowl ees nard full! Bod I ead anyway. Then I doze arff arn the floor, pointee' towar's the Mecca ob my bowl.

I waghe forty-fibe meenutes lade-hair and I am hongry! Ees terreeble

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP, por the lorb ob gard!

The Smoothman appears again, neearly sqasheen' me as he walghs.

He feed me the res' ob my ration.

I feel full an' I doze arff again. Bod again I waghe ad seex an' there ees a hongry tigehair een my belly 

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, I roar faindly, weagh weeth honghair.

Lighe mageec the Smoothman appear. You've been fed, cad! he growl een French.

Pendejo, I say, I yam hongry! Babosa he say: Dreenk thees...

He geeb me meelk. Ah, whide storff. Ebeen tho eed ees lowfad kaka I dreenk eed. Laplaplap, ees goo'.

I fall sleep.

Moch ladehair the yoomans ged orp.

They ead breakfas'. Carffee cahge thad the Wooman maghe las' nighd an strarng carffee. I yompa arnto the bed where the Wooman ees eadeen' an' dreenkeen while readeen' an' I as' por sorm cahghe. I lighe caghe.

She geeb me two pieces muy pequeno, and then I wash an' lie down to sleep.

I mos resd orp por tonighd.

The En'.

 OK, so you wan' to know abou the Poll, righ'? Thad ees why I had to ead the cahge: I drarpped below my opteemum raccoon-fighdeen' weigh an' had to bolk orp.

The majoreedy ees correeghd! Onlighe een a democracy, jaaaaaaaaaajajajajajajaj.

I weigh...

NINETEEN POUN's!!!!

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep! Carngratulation'!  To eberyonee who though I was fifteen, thad ees because I yab soch goo' moscle tone. Twenty-two woul' dab been accurade a few years ago when I was twenny-worn poun's.

Een honor ob your beectory you may sen' me Wheeskas treads, whide caghe, enoki moshrooms an' sweet melon.

Grazias.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

You call me El Gordo



Why mos' the Wooman taghe thees onflattereen' peecture ob me? Ees terreeble.

She maghe me loogh como un perro. A d.a.r.g. A doberman peench-hair, to be esssact.

So, sormbardy as' the order day how moch I weigh. So rude. An' Liu, I theenk, called me El Gordo. So rude.

Liu, check oud your aria een Turandot. The Wooman use' to torture me weeth eed an' I had to bighd hor har' een the leg to maghe her starp. My pobre ears. You know whad happens een the en' righd? Liu corms to a steecky en'! Ees 'cos you call me GORDO!



I yam nard gordo. I hab beeg bones and larnglegs. Ees true I am a beeg cad. BEEG. Nard fad.

Here is Callas, yos to teach you a Lesson.



So. Doan' call me names. Like El Gordo. I can poneesh you with OPERA!

You see the holes onner the arms so I can maghe stretch. I corm oud ob my short twice las' nigd. They are loogheen' for a new worn. Dayeen, dayoud.

You see the new Poll orp there arn the righ', righd? Ees to guess how moch I yam weigheen'. The Wooman had to ged arn the scale weeth me so then she saw how moch SHE weigh'. Jaaaaaaaaajajajajajaja. Eep jaja, ees so fonny.

Hey! How you fine' me here, Wooman? Ees secret!

Be careful ob my talons. I yam panth-hair een the yongle.

Si, you forghard to cleep my claws deedn' you? Be afrai'.

Be berber' afrai'.

Monday, September 13, 2010

My weeken'

I carntinue to stordy how to coogh. Thees time, feesh.

An' also I yam sobyeghted to the Wooman, who geds orp my nose.

Then, the eenhumaneedy: I yam tortured weeth piece ob spaghetti:



How OLE' are theese people???

I yam so eerreetaded the Smoothman mos' geeb me the calmeen' Bolcan Greep. Eed maghes me relaghs.

So I read a leedle beet abou' the sea, too. Because eenside eed are feesh.

The En'.

Boreen' weeken'.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Jellow peril

I see sorm fresh pelleds hab arribed!

Ees abou' time. Las' nighd I gard storck een my shord twice so my arms was trabbed an fell arf the bed. So today the Wooman poot me een the smaller size (18 - 24 mornths; the worn een the peec aborf is 33 mornths an' too forgheen' beeg!)...bod eed is tighd, so she maghe alterations. Ees ber' stressful tryeen' the short arn so many times an' I mighd hab beetten hor a few times. Ees nard een my carntrol. I was muy hongry an' I demanded my new pelleds.

Then while she was seween' the new short I wen' to sleep arn sorm fantasteec plasteec bags.

Eef you remobe thees bags I weell call the poh-leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeece!!!!!!!!

OK, more therapy: streeng onder the kikoi.

Hoh!

Haiiiiiiiiii-ya!

They call me mellow jellow...

Do you notice the bolera style short, now? The Wooman cort eed shorthair so my bag feed doan' ged stock een the hem.

Also she shorten the sleebs so I doan' feel ligh I yam walkeen aroun' een wed diaper, all roll' an' bonch aroun' my legs.

Hab I mention' she cannard sew?

Ees steel forgheen' onconfortable.

An' thees ebeneen' she had to LENGTHEN the lefd sleeb again because I coul' reach an leeck leeck leeck!

Jajajajajaja.

She said, Cad, I hab bedhair theen's to do tonighd than sew your blordy short AGAIN.

No, you doan'. I said. I yam the cent-hair ob your esseestance. Weethoud me you would be northeen'.

Hmmn * &ngnng, she said. Hor mouth was full ob peens.

My poin' essactlee, I said. I resd my case.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

My ordeal

Pappa I mean the Smoothman feel ber'ber' sorry por me een my short. He say, The cad soffhairs.

I say, Damnrigh' the cad soffhairs. Feed me!

The Wooman, arn the order paw, feels nartheen'. Yesserday she came home weeth a new short. Porquewhy? Eed has LARNG sleabes an' a collar. Sheet. Porquewhy? Because I yam leeckeen' the arm, an' I yam sleepeen' my feline shouldhairs through the negh ob the blueshor' an' geddeen' storck, porque eed is a wornsie por a baby.

An' I yam no baby.

My libe sorcks beegtime.

Eesn't thees an attracteeb color?

NO! Eed looghs como ordure. Loogh thad orp. OKfine I tell you. Ordure = kaka.

Pleease to notice the legh detail. Dorble sleebes. Are the yoomans paranoi' or wha'?

The Wooman made feesh por the deenhair ob the yoomans. The smell tranqueelize' me.

I theenk I yam goeen' to lorn to coogh....

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Las' nighd I gard dronk an' pass oud.

The Wooman had to pood my head bag arn the chair.

So when I waghe orp thees morneen' I was een badmood.

I warn' the Wooman: I weel heet your camera een 5 minus worn, two, three, secon's...

I tole' you.

Cry baby..

Th.

Friday, September 3, 2010

I yam whad I yam...



&^$(*%%#!^&

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

Si.

I yam bag een a forgheen' short.

Weeth LARNG sleebes.

Why?

Yos because I was neebleen' arn the last leedle padge arn my lefd arm where the for was groween' bag so nicely (thad ees whad the Wooman said). Thees morneen' the Wooman looghed ad eed again, an' say, Estorbo, WHY? You hab the nice, esspenseeb Wellness food, you hab no more mango, you hab the Velcode oil por the shiny for, why?

Why? I say

Because I yam a Catto-leeck-leeck leeck!!!

Why? Because ob all the stress weeth Mordhair Chorizo.

You know, eed was hor borthday, an' the Empire Stade Buildeen' refuse to lighd orp especial weeth the blue and whide por Mordhair Chorizo, and the order Cattoleecks gard ber' mad an' made protes'. I was so stress' I started to leeck-leeck-leeck my arm again.

Ees lighe bideen' your nails. I bide my nails, too, bod thad ees OK. An the Wooman cleeps them ebery mornth. I lighe thad. Ber' relaghseen'.

So this morneen' she open the corpboar' to loogh ad the ole' shorts. The Home Depot worn was tighd arn my arms, an' maybe THAD ees why I star' thees padge arn my lefd arm whad was neearly bedhair onteel I started to leeck-leeck-leeck eed again.

Then she saw the new shord weeth larng arms thad we neber use' yed. Eed had larng legs, too, bod she cort these arf. We try eed arn. I was ber' polide abou' deed. The arms came down ober my paws. She taghe eed arff again an' make adyostmen'.

Ad las' eed was OK, yessepd she cort small arm holes so I can maghe stretcha more confortbale.

Sigh.

The Wooman say two weeghs.

I say, Breeng eed arn! I can taghe whadebber you throw ad me.

Dayeen. Dayoud.

My only prarblem...arn Mornday Deb y Heem, y Ereec y Mimi, corm por deenhair (feesh!). I yam afrai'...yos a leedle afrai', that they weell...

...laugh.