Friday, August 26, 2011

Arn the roop


I yam faceen' the wardhair. Ober there, ees the Nuevo York Harbor. Ees wed. Ees beeg ebacuation neear the wed storff een fron' ob Irene.

Een the bag are my worldy belarngeen's.  Sorm leedhair, sorm pelleds, sorm agua. My ratton. Smallpiece streeng to amuse me eef I go to Shelter. We mos remain' arn high groun'.

I only lighe wardhair een my bath. Agua. Yes, the bath. Pleease, was no leaghue! The roop was nard leakeen' een las' weegh's storm ober the bath! How conbeniend. No: was wed ombrella EEN my bath! Thees ees where I dreenk! (Ad the momen'. Ees a phase, OK?OK!). Whad the forgh...

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

The borthday mouse


So, worn ob my borthday geefts was these ratton. I keelled eed.


Bod then I realize':


I yam becormeen' a begetarian. 

These mouse ees my frien'. To the en'.

Monday, August 15, 2011

So close y yed so far away



Eef you are joineen' me frarm the New York Times, ees goo' to see you! Diiiiiiiiiiios mio. They leenked to a cad weeth an aghsen' lighe mine! Ees beeg progress por anti deescreemination.

Pleease beeset their gallery ob bodega cads y cleeck arn peectures ob cads por story.

Eef you doan' know me, I yam Don Estorbo de la Bodega Dominicana: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep (ees my boice due to loss ob cojones. I doan' wan' to talgh abou' eed, OK? OK).

The bodega was a larng time ago, arn the Lower Eas' Side, where I was a keetten y where I caugh' my fors' mouse. I yab leebed arn the LES, Staten Islan', een the Eas' Billayge, y now I leeb een Brookleen.

Bod as my frien' Ikaika poin' oud een the carmends, I yam nard retire'. I yam seemply worgheen' now een pribade sector ob secureedy: carckroach' rancheen' arn the roop, bermeen carntrol (I hade squeerels). Y ob course, Raccoon repulsion.


Bag to the beesneess:

Las' weeken' the Wooman maghe steaghe. She coogh eed arn the fire. I hade fire. Eed maghe smoghe. Born the buildeen' down. See the way the Smoothman ees loogheen' ad me? So rude. I was nard beggeen'. I do nard beg. Dargs beg. I as'. Polide. Eep?


Thees was arn my borthday. I yam steel weareen' the reebbon. The Smoothman was prepareen' my feesh. I was a leedle, como se dices?...desperade.


These ratton ees fantasteec! Eed remine' me ob the ole' days honteen' the beeg rads ad the Chelsea Garden Centhair on Eas' 2nd Streed. Before the Terreeble Theen' happen'. I doan' want to talgh abou' thad either, OK? OK. Yos setteen' sorm groun' rules. BTW - my feed hab nard torched the groun' een abou' a decade. I leeb arn the rooptarps.


Arn the weeken' the Wooman eeds breakfas' een bed. Lazy peeg. Bod I ged a leeck ob bodhair. Sormtimes. When she remembair. When she loogh orp frarm hor forgheen' boreen' boogh. So I waid, I waid.

Thad ees my libe. Always neear to sormtheen' I wan'. Perpetual torture.

Dayeen.

Dayoud.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Borthday 2


I hade thees yogur'. Thees geeft was a failure. I deman' Breyers Peach arn the Bardam!

The Wooman say, Bod thees ees my fabouride, Estorbo - eed is local, frarm happy cows...

I say, Ees thees YOUR borthday? I doan' theenk so!

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Borthday: 1


Eadeen' my fors' course ob sushi grade tuna. The Wooman nebber buys eed, porqewhy?

Onsostainable, she say.

Gezundheid! I say.Whadebber.

Ees berber good! Dios mio. I aghtuallee hab to chew! The dayeen dayoud pelleds I yos inhale, whole.

She say, you remember these tasde, cad, because you weell nebberebber ged eed again!

...

Lader I pose' my order geefts.

Gracias por all the good weeshes.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

You may breeng your geefts, now.


Ees por me, yes? 

I yam ready. 

I yam waideen'.

You know where to fine' me. 

Monday, August 8, 2011

When ees my forgheen' borthday? When?

I yam carnfuse'.

The Wooman ees carnfuseen' me. She say my borthday ees arn the ninth. We hab been through theese before. Then I loogh ad my blarg, because I do nard remembhair bein' born. I see thad las' year she say eed ees arn the feefth. She forgard.

Een 2009 I gard a feesh. Arn the fourth. More carnfuseen'. The feesh orpsed some people y I gard HADEmail. From a wooman whose hosban' goes beeg shark feesheen'. Serioos.


Me. A cad. Whad eads feesh wornce a year. My gard.

Well, the feefth ees OBER. Garn! Y nard worn presen'! So ees eed arn the ninth, tomorrow, or am I a cad weethoud commemoration or carmpensation por hees borth een the bodega.

I weell be 12. Ees true.

I meess my kittenhoo'...

Sunday, August 7, 2011

No Dargs!

Welcorm to my esseebeetion ob No Dargs. No Dargs means you can seet arn the grass weeth no pipi kaka beneath you. No Dargs means the flowers can grow. No Dargs means the cadneep weell be clean. NO Dargs means the Wooman can corm home weeth clean shoes eento the house. No Dargs means Estorbo's libe eees bedhair. Dayeeen, dayoud.




Eef you or sormworn you know has prarblem weeth los perros (d a r g s), thees ees the sign por you! Ees made by my amigo, arteest Frank Meuschke. Frank maghes lan'scabe painteen' bod the dargs maghe kaka arn his landscape, so he maghe sign.

You as' heem nice, he maghe worn por you, too. Tell heem I sen' you.


You email heem: nycgarden   at   gmail   dot   com

Friday, August 5, 2011

Libe ob the rancher


Ees a prarblem arn the roop. Bord ead the beeg tomato whad was yos ripe. So I waid, I waid. Bod no bord.

Dayeen, dayoud.

Why ees my tail wed?

Sheet.