Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Pleease. Obserb my whide wheeskhair.
Ees stresswheeskair ob radioactebeedy in May.
Bod the Wooman say I mos' tell you, een case you do nard read my Fazebooogh page, I yam A-OK.
I yam officially cure' ob the typhoid.
I wen' por forgheen' blordtes' weeth Dr Slade y eberytheen' ees NORMAL. Eben my keedneys, whad maghe me dreenk mucho agua.
Yessep' I yab the whide stresswheeskhair.
Also, order news, the Wooman threw away, por ebber y ebber, my Onnatracteeb Grey Barx. Een the trash.
She say: Estorbo, you nebber hab to see thad theen' ebber again. Eed ees an abommeenation.
Een the Onnatracteeb Grey Barx I wen' to the harspeetal por the nuclear essplocion een my thyroid. Een the barx I was taghen orpstade to be eencarcerade' weeth gerbeel entertainmen' y 24 hour bideo sorbeillance.
Een the barx weeth taxi I came bag home.
Een the barx I wed my pants.
I nebber, ebber web my pands. Was terreeble.
I was wash' een the bath. I yos stood there een the warm wardhair while the Woooman clean me.
The barx ees dead.
Estorbo ees alibe.
Hear me roar: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!
Monday, July 22, 2013
Friday, July 5, 2013
Monday, July 1, 2013
Estorbo. This is Maggie.
This is my fireside address:
Ted is still nursing some bent whiskers and a sore knee.
Yes. We did meet those "friends" of yours. From Colombia. Or was it Havana?
Frankly, that wasn't very nice. Not cricket, at all.
While we refuse to negotiate with terrorists, especially ones with thick accents and bad grammar, we have made one concession: The Woman looked cold in her tree so we moved her.
She is now in the chimney.
We have friends, too. We are Welsh, you know.
No, you probably don't.