I yam not here

I weell waid een thees deesguise.

I weell loogh oud, an' no worn weell loogh een...

Kehdi orpdade

I know Meess Kehdi has sorm fans (hola Ikaika), so I wan' to pose' a peecture ob hor frarm Cape Town.

She says she ees tired, bod alibe.

An' she says eberyone was so worried abou' hor, Kehdi, bod eed was Spook whad keecked the borcket forst.

She says, Jus' sayin.

Obbioosly no fozzy feeleen' there...

Cads por Clonkhairs program

Doan' eben theenk ob cormeen' near me, Wooman. I weel heet you arn the head an' destroy your braincell.

I hord whad you wor sayeen'.

You said you wan' to trade een theese cad: thees cad whad ees a pelled-gozzleen', leetthair barx polluteen' clonkhair.You wan' to buy weeth the cash you ged por these cad, a new keetten: un gatito muy pequeno whad can be trained to sleep, ead nicely, miaow prophair.

Worn whad dors nard waghe you orp een the meedle ob the nighd sayeen' Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedmenooooooooooooooooow!!!!!!!

You know what they DO weeth the clonkhairs???

They DESTROY THEM.

I yam arn guard.

My throne

The Wooman sen' the chairs away. Then they came bag, five weeghs ladehair. Weeth a MAN! I heed behine' the fileen' cabinets.

The chairs had been re orp hole staired, said the Wooman.

Whad deed they do to deserb thad, I as'?

I lighe them. The Wooman say she weell keell me eef I maghe scratcha arn them.

Me? Maghe scratcha arn a chair?

Do I loogh como un barbarian to you?

Spook, RIP: Guest post by the Woman

Spookie was eighteen. She was taken to the vet on Friday with chronic kidney failure. After keeping her overnight the vet recommended euthanasia. My poor father went to hold Spookie's paw. Spook did not go gentle into that good night. She always did rage at the vet's. My dad buried her in the garden. He is bereft.

These are all pictures taken in the last four years, on my trips to Cape Town. Somewhere in envelopes in my parents' house are photos of me with kitten-Spook upside down in my arms, passed out, and I remember her sleeping in my long hair, a white kitten on the white pillow, snuggled up rather alarmingly in my red hair.

We fetched the tiny kitten from the elderly lady who bred British Short Haired Chinchillas in her house in a nearby suburb. She was sitting with a brother and sister in an armchair, quite adorable. The lady lost interest in us when she heard that Little Silver Snow was going to be a pet. A mere pet.

After her relaxed start, Spookie's life was dominated early on by the bully tactics of Minkey the Tiger Cat, herself an extraordinarily unforgettable Abyssinian, since departed and also buried in the garden. While the household , and especially my mother, mourned lovely, chirruping Minkey's passing, Spook perked up, and came out from under the bed.

Instead of hiding from terrifying Minkey, she ate breakfast with my father, early in the mornings, before he left for chambers. He always started with fruit, and if it was spanspek (canteloup) or pawpaw (papaya), she would sit up and beg for some, and would be fed tidbits on pieces of his morning paper.

Spookie adored asparagus and would beg for these at dinner time, balancing expertly on her hind feet and dangling her front paws beatifically while shark-biting the hand that fed her. Green beans were delicious, and she would often be bobbing up and down for half of dinner into begging position until my father swatted her away with impatience. She loved to hear the Cow ping when the white stuff was warm. And only Spook would know what that means.

Some years ago poor Spook started to have nightmares where she would start to miaow loudly in her sleep to the point where we would all wake up and rush to try and calm her. Waking up her head would pop out of her curled up "ball" position and she'd say, Prrrp? in a very surprised manner. What's the fuss about? Dreaming of Minkey's claws stomping the carpet.

Never in sight during the years of the Reign of Minkey, Spookie stopped spooking and became the social lunch cat, always joining anyone eating under the tree in the garden, or on the patio.

Loved by her Pa, who adored her almond eyes and loud purr and regular head bumps, she slept on a special cushion on his desk at home, and often on the bed at night.

I never thought it would be Spook I would not see again when I left Cape Town early this year. She was as light as a feather, but seemed immortal.

Papehair tighehair

The Wooman boughd sorm storff wrabbed een sorm berber' dangerous papehair.

I attaghed~! Eed made more dangerous noise. I bead eed weeth my arms and claws an' tore eed een many pieces. I chewed eed and beet eed weeth my teeth.

HOW can she led eed eento the house???

We are safe nowhere no more.

The Borthday Feesh

Hello? Whad am I suppose' to do weeth thees?

I yam embaress'. The guy ees nard eben dressed.

So the Wooman cook heem por me afthair geebeen' me two pieces sashimi (berberygoo')...

An' then the trorbell started.

Thees feesh ees arn fire.

You are borneen' my feesh.

MY FEESH EES ARN FIRE!!!!!!!!

Serioosly. Now eed's magheen' smoghe. Ees thees a yoke? I HADE smoghe! You hab to born the house down arn my borthday???

Ok...ees loogheen' bedhair.

Tasdes preedy goo'...

Coul' I hab sorm cheecken leebhair pate por desser'?

The toy

Thees ees...T.h.e T.o.y.

Onteel now I hab been reloctant to share eed weeth the Worl'...eed ees so special. Eed aghdeevades me een a way no toy has aghdivaded me before. Eed ees wonnerful. Unighue. Eentreegueen'. Outrageous. Cabteebadeen'. Beguileen'. Transfeexeen'. I wan' to KEELL EED!

Again, an' again. An' again.

Worn more time, Keell, keell, keell, DIE, T-MOBILE ENBELOPE! DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

You see the leedle weendow een eed? Eed maghes craghlenoise lighe whad dribe me crazee. I yam a yonkie. Beence has to pood me onner the blue kikoi arn the bed, and pulls the enbelope obehair my head, and frarm eenside the kikoi I lash oud, kerPOW! powpowpowpowpow...

pantapantapanta

Sormtime' I lash so fas' I cadge the Hermano weeth my claw, now the Toy has blord arn eed. An' I yam berbery worried (smallboice). The Toy ees geedeen' smallhair. Do you theenk T-Mobile weell sen' me sorm more?

Nedfleeghs ees dead. LARNG LEEB T-MOBILE, LARNG LEEB!!!!!

Eed's my borthday

...arn Tuesday, the Fourth ob Augus'. More or less.

I yam torneen'......ten.

...an I doan' wan' to faze eed.

Bench presseen'

Led's faze eed: norn ob ors are geddeen' any younghair, righ'? Righ'...

The Wooman ees walkeen' aroun' the house como un crab because she hord hor negh, como? - For's, Friday, she peeck orp sorm heaby plantas. Then she was pulleen' oud a ber' torf weed een a part arn the roop, where she had to maghe stretcha to reach. Now? She ees sideways.

So, I hab started plan ob agshion, weeth traineen' ob orphair bardee strength tarp prioreety.

Ees reseestance traineen', and es muy esshausteen'. Afthair thees I need to sleeb thorteen hours.

Aluta continua.