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

Monday, August 30, 2010

The roop

I yam watcheen' dargs pee arn the sidewalgh down below...Hab they no deegneedee?

Agtuallee, Wooman, I prefehair meelk.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

A messayge

I yam the Don. I yam the Keellhair ob the roop tarps. I yam the Sabagehair ob the Raccoon ob Raccoon House (een whose direction I yam pointeen', always arn the alort), defendhair ob my terrace agains' the beecious, sabadge, orange cad frarm neghs door. I yam DON EstorbodelaBodegaDominicanaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa: KEENG ob Henry Street, Carbble Heel, Brookleen, Nuevo York, Eas' Cose'.

Yoo ESSE A!!!!!!!

Monday, August 23, 2010


Who ees thes forgheen' cad?

Who who who???

Whad has been goeen' arn behine' my bag?

I trosted them! They tole' me they lorbed me! They meessed me!!!

I knew sormtheen'was deefferent. I coul' sense eed. I coul' feel eed een my bones.

Now I onnerstan'.

B. Trayal.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Same ole' same ole'

I yam bag!!!!


Srsly, the Wooman has no sense ob yoomore. Or gradefulabeeleety.

You theenk she'd be happy to heear my boice. At 1am, 1.31am, 2am, 3 am. 3.12 am, 3.27am, 4 am, 5.03 am. Seex.

Bod no.

Deed she laugh an' say, Estorbo, I meess you so moch, I weeshed you wor een Rarckpor' weeth os arn the bed by the sea...



She say:




She chase me, een the dark, bomp eento the forniture.

Eep! I say.

She yompa oud ob bed.

I rosh onder chair. She pull me oud


She go bag to bed. She heed hor food arn something sharp. She say badwor'.

Eep? I say.

Shordorp! she heess. She no wan' to waghe the Smoothman. She say he need sleep.

Muy bien, I say. So you an' I can stay orp an' ead pelleds?

Peeg! she wheesper.

She say she no feed me arn deman' no more to keep a me quied. She say I yab torn' the yoomans eento Pablarb's darg.


Ad dawn the Smoothan feed me.

The I go to bed. I yam to tire'...

The Wooman say, Eep?


Wednesday, August 11, 2010

My borthday geefts

I gard:

Fresh pelleds, een a new, craghly bag
Fresh leedhair. (Doan' knark leedhair: eed ees muy importante an' I refuse to use my tray onless eed loohs como un Japanese raked garden)
Lowfad kaka meelk. I use' to hade eed. Bod now I dreenk eed. Why? because the Wooman ees cheap, ees why.
Wheeskas temptations. Cragh por cads. I lorb!
A ribe whide peach!
A ribe red plom!
Streeng weeth squeaky mouse. I keell, I keell.

Thad was all.


Sunday, August 8, 2010


Eed was my borthday.

The Wooman looghed ad the ole' blarg pose' frarm 2008 and' say, Estorbo?


Your borthday was arn the feefth. 5. Cinco. Coun' your feengers an' claws arn worn paw: FIBE.

You're keeddeen', I say.

No, she say.

Sheet, I say.

I though eed was the ninth. 9. Nueve. Two paws minus worn toe.

Apparantly nard, she say. I steel ged presends? I as'...

Jes, she say. Bod tomorrow.



Thursday, August 5, 2010

I yam the hont -hair

Heeeeeeeeere, peegeon-peegeon...

I yam goeen' to keeeeeell yooooooooooooou.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Men and cats

Pappa I mean Beence, you are so byoodeeful: I lorb you.


Thad looghs so goo'.

The eggs are organeec, yes?

Also sorm pancetta, maybe?

Ah, que rico, muchas gracias, mmm,mmmm...


I yam ber' sorry. Sormtimes I doan' know my own strength.

Whad are you loogheen' ad Wooman?

Now we men mos' taghe a forteefyeen' nab...

I gard your bag, hombre. No worn weell dare maghe hattagh.

I yam tire' ob the Wooman. She can go ay-way.

Pee ess.

Eed ees my BORTHDAY arn the 9th ob Augus'...

Yos sayeen'.