Sunday, July 27, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Who the Main Man Now???
I. Am. The. Main. Man.
Heear me roar: EEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Announcemands
I hab new email address, OK? OK.
estorboloco[ad]gmail (dart)com
Eberybardy onnerstan' thad? No, doan wride the real parentheses (beegwor'): (ad) yos means the seembol @...An' (dart) yos means thees: .
See,
.
.
...dart = .
Bod eef I wride eed prarper, the SPAM robots weel maghe attagh, OK? OK.
Gracias.
Pee Ess. H-h-h-uwi an' Trebor remine' me eed ees our borthday soon. On Augus' 4th, Me an' H-h-h-huwi an' Trebor, an' Lennie an' Sollie. We weell have a mass, blag-cad, transcontinental celebration een Brookleen, Kalk Bay an' Eenglan'. We weell be....NINE!
My menu weel be mango an' kiwi salad, a sardine (FEESH!), and peach yoghurt.
Then I weel throw orp. Bod eed weel be so worth eed.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Whad???
Monday, July 7, 2008
My libe as a cad
Thees weeken', eef you can call eed thad, the Wooman had me yompeen' through hoops:
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?
Hello???
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.