blank'/> The Libe ob Don Estorbo de la Bodega Dominicana: 2012

Friday, December 21, 2012

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Cat Calendar!

Ad larng forgheen 'las! I yam a peenorp!!! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

My slabe The Wooman made por me a calendair, bod only after I threaten hor cashmere sweaters. I made hor cry (nard preedy)...

You can buy Estorbo's 2013 Calendair een hor arnline store, y you can sheep eed ANYWHERE!

I yam famous! Again! Pour me sorm pelleds!

Pelleds arn the house por e b e r y b a r d y!

Pee Ess: the Wooman has decreed my ten porcent carmeesion weell be spen' arn the forgheen bed beeseeds por my typhoid.

I hade my libe.

Friday, November 23, 2012

The Boid

I yam Zen.

Eben though I yam honghair. Eben though I yam the boid, the beeg, blag empteeness. Eben though I yam populaded een my stormarch by leedle Estorbitos: worn honnered y  forty leedle Estorbitos who are also Honger, the collecteeb Boid, the small bod loud Empteenesses, always cryeen' por food.

So whyporqueWHY does the Wooman, the cruel, eensenseeteeb Wooman, put ou'side where I can see eed...a GOOSE?

She say, The keetchen ees full, Cad, y eed ees nice y cole' ou'side, y the goose mos stay cool while I yam makeen' spaze por Thanksgeebeen' Deenhair...

Bod there ees spaze eenside me, I say helpfully. I yam the Boid.

She loogh ad me, you know, scrutinizeen',  tryeen' to read my mine'. Bod my mine' pure.

Como snow from Heaben.

Your heart ees blag, Cad. She say.

No keedeen', I say, I yam a blag cad. I YAM THE BOID!

Whadebber, she say, waid por deenhair.

So I waid, I waid. I yomp arnto the stone table y I doan' eben look at the forgheen' bird, I mean boid...forgue. The boid contemplades the boid.

Ees berber' deep.

(So ees the boid. Endless, full ob leedle hongry, cryeen' Estorbitos)

I waid.

Ad deenhair I seed ad the feed ob the yoomans, occasionally rafteen' (thad ees anorder story - thank you por your patience) como usual, y they feed me  p  e  q  u  e  n  o  pieces ob the goose. Ees ber' deleecious. The leedle Estorbitos are silen' y go to sleep, porreen', por seex whole meenutes.


Y now? Terreeble news. I go to the bed. Ved. Bed. Whadebber. He measure my typhoid lebel again. The Woooman weell essplain abou' the boid. Because always I yam hongree. Ees terreeble.

I yam honghair.

Ees there a peell por thad?

Neghs weegh they leab me. Always, I yam lefd. Senor John ees cormeen' to loogh after me. Maybe I weell geeb heem the leedle Estorbitos. I can care por them no more.

Maybe he weell breeng me a keetteen.

I yab always wanted a keetteen.

I yab larst my keettens.

The leedle Estorbitos are nard keettens. They are my borden.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Happy cad...waid...

I yam yompeen weeth happeeness.


Porque I yam feelled with proteinas y fatty acids: the Wooman ran oud ob canned cad food y tonighd I was geeben TUNA por deenhair.

Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaajajajajaja, Yes. Feesh!

I can lebitade. I yam the mageec cad. I yab spreengs een my feed.

I yam....whad...

Whad do I hear?

The bed? I mean ved?

You say I yab an apppoin'men' weeth THE VED, bed, whadebber, this weegh!


The day after Thangsgeebeen'???

Bod I weell be full ob torkey! Or ham! Or both! My typhoid lebels weell be sky-high!

Libe can be cruel y onnusual, sormtime'.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Si se puede

My presiden': Eef they mess weeth you, they mos mess weeth me.

I weel ponch them righ' arn the nose!

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Horricane sheet

I larst my caddle een the storm.

To wash the beetter tasde oud ob my mouth I ade sorm meent. The Wooman yell, DOAN' eed thad, cad! Bod I ead, anyway. Whad ees a leedle bomeet between frien's? Eed's nard lighe I threw orp een the aparmen' - I sabe eed por the roop.

Deed I do thad?

Forgheen' Sandy. Loogh ad my terrace.

Ees thad worn ob my caddle? Queeck! A space blangkhet!

Too late.

Maybe I weell keel the squirreel.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Monday, October 22, 2012

Waideen ad table

So stressful. The order nighd por the Woooman's deenhair party I yad to worgh por teeps.  So moch worgh. So many plates to carry. Why are the count-hairs made so high?

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Sarft, sour, golden, day een, day oud...

Yes. Eed ees me. I yam nard fad. I yam florffy. Arn my las' bed beeseed, Dr Slabe, I mean Slade, say I yab larst weighd: 0.2  poun'. So the Wooman says now I can ead how moch I wan'. Madre de Dios. My whole libe I yab been waideen' por thees.

So I woul' lighe to share weeth you my new fabouride foo', deescober las' nigh'. The Wooman was eadeen' lefdobers cheecken salad while she wadge forgheen' Nedfleeghs an' een the bowl ees sorm cole' cheecken een dresseen' ob beenegar, arleeb oil, raw shallot, whide balsameec beenegar, y golden raisins soag' y poach' een the beeneegar. Y chile. Mucho, mucho chile. She geeb me smallpequeno piece of cheecken after she has clean eed ob dresseen', then she puts the bowl negh's to hor, leabeen many raiseens y shallot.

I walgh arn tarp ob hor y ober hor to ged to the bowl.

Peeg, says the Wooman

(!? - You are the worn eadeen' een fron' ob the forgheen' TB?)

There ees no more cheecken lef' een the bowl, cad,  says the Wooman,

Ees OK, I say, I yam eadeen the deleecious, nutritious golden raiseens soagh' y poach een beenegar y leecken the dresseen'.

The Wooman star' the laugh. LAUGH! Ad me!

Estorbo, thees ees Seeceelian-inspire' foo'!

OK, I say. I yam inspire'! Whad eees the beeg, forgheen' deal?

She star' tagheen' oud the raiseens frarm the shallot y pusheen' them towards me, y I say, Gracias, y I ead all the raiseens y then I star' to ead the shallot. Thad ees when she taghe the bowl away frarm me.

She call me crazee.

She call me loco.

I call hor cruel.


Borpa (do I yab ba' breath?)...

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Zombiecad? Who, me?

The Wooman say: SnaboudobeedEstorbo.

She say: Yourpeopleareworry'abou'you.

My people.

I yab people?

She say: Your people whad hel' pay your bed beells, you stupeed cad! After your las' pose' they theenk you are a zombiecad!

Stupee'. You are calleen' me...stupee'?

She say: Focus, Estorbo!

I am so focus'.

STUPEE' ?!?!

She say: *eyeroll*

Eef you need, me, I say, I weell be arn the roop, carntrolleen' my caddle. I yab to breeng them down frarm the high pasture'.

Weenter ees cormeen'. They need a warm place to sleeb.


Yos sayeen'.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Estorbo doan' leab here no mas




Theese ees pribade, Wooman. I yam in my SPA!


Peas! I need peas. Quied.

No Wooman.

Fors' you taghe me to the bed. Then they maghe shabe arn my leg so I yab bal' spart por esstracteen' MY BLORD. Then they increase my drorgs por the typhoid, so I yam a forgheen' zombiecad. Then...then...

I doan' remembair.



I yos wan' to be alone.

Monday, September 17, 2012

The terreeble eendeegneety ob my libe

I yad a ba', ba', BA', BA' weeken'.


I was wash'.

Een the bath.

Weeth organeec senseeteeb shampoo.

All because ob a leedle messonderstandeen' weeth my forgheen' leeder tray whad ees abou' the size ob a hamstair's matchbarx. Har' to maneuber.

Forgh. The Wooman put me een the shower/bath. She close the door. She ees eenside there WEETH me. Y then she begeen' to feell the bath weeth WADHAIR! WARM WADHAIR.

Led me oooooooooooooooud, I beg.

She splash me. She sopa me. She reense me. My, you hab skeenny legs, she say, an' she GEEGGLE.

I cry. My eyes are blag.

Ad las' eed eees ober. She open the door y I maghe yompa y I sliiiiiiiiide across the floor. My pads hab no greep. She wash' away my tread!  She close the door an' now she dry me weeth the yooman towel.

I swear badwor's...Wor's yu hab nebber read here.

Then she puts me ouside y my worgh begeens. My toes are wed. Deesgosteen. I shaghe my feed. I leeck. Leeck Leeck Leeck. Forebber.

Thad nigh she say to me, Estorbo you are so shiny y saft, I migh' wash you more arften.

Keess my forry ass, I say.

Oh, Estorbo she say. You are soch a bad temper cad.



To eemprobe my mood she eenforms me that I yam goeen' to the bed por a check orp arn Thorsday. Dr Slade want to know abou' my typhoid y how abou' my keedneys?

My happiness ees carmpleet.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Arn the roop ad nigh'

I yam the cad arn guar'. Eef eed mobes, I weell keell eed. 

Sormworn is rossleen' my caddle.

Spread' the wor': Estorbo means beesnees.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

I lorb...

HMMMMMMMMMMM. Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr Yo quiero the aroma ob these shoes, man.


They speagh ob the worl' ou'side.

Thursday, August 23, 2012


An' the Wooman wondhairs porquewhy I laugh at hor, como Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaajajajajajaja.

Eed ees because she walghs lighe a crab. Yoomans. Nard preedy.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Dayeen, dayoud

I leeb weeth sorm control freaghs, man.

Permeession to ead my feesh, PLEEASE?!

Thursday, August 16, 2012


The Man brough' the Wooman presen's. I lorb presen's. Los papers - so eenterttseen', so makeen' rossle noises, so goo' por reepeen' y shreddeen'.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Geefts por a cad

My geefts. Whide peaches, peach yogut', Greenies. Feesh. 

The feathairs storffed weeth (ole', ole') cadneep wor berber' lame. Boreen'. Eef I wan' feathairs I weell cadge a peegeon.

Monday, August 6, 2012


Porquewhy ees eberytheen' arn thees terrace so forgheen' PEENK, y WET?!

Saturday, July 28, 2012


Eef I seed here weell you feed me?

Ees theese bedhair?

The sospense ees geebeen' me whide knockles!

How abou' now?

(Por fabor?)

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Eed's me, Storbee, led me een to your weendow!

The Wooman seengs Kate Boosh to me when I maghe scratcha arn the door when eed begeens to rain.

NARD fonny!

Friday, July 20, 2012

Flyeen' feesh

The yoomans are escapeen' to the roop sormtimes to maghe the peecneec. 

Las' time, they maghe accident y throw the peecneec down arn the terrace. Eed was wonnerful, porque the peecneec was meat weeth fish sauce. Made beeg essplocion all ober the terrace. Las plantas wor cobered een tuna. Eed was lighe bein' een forgheen' heaben. I go leeckleeckleeck. The Smooothman hab nerbous breadown. I tell heem, doan' worry, be happy, the Wooman feeds the feesh fertilizer anyway to las plantas, y thees tasdes moch beddhair. Here, I say, hab a leaf, ees delicioso. 

Cad? He say.

Yes? I say.

Sormtimes you talgh too moch.

Whadebber, I say. Escyoose me por tryeen' to maghe you feel bedder, bodderfeengers.

Oh shortop, he say.

Sure, I say. No prarblem.


Thursday, July 19, 2012

El Nueva York Times

I yam shathaired.

Today, een El Nueva York Times, ees beeg story abou' the Wooman. Y the Smoothman, y...ME!

Soun's berber' nice, yes?


You can read eed here. Carncrete Yongles een Nueva York.

Arn the fron' ob the arteecle ees peecture ob the yoomans arn the terrace. Y whad do they show ob me? MY ASS!


Y whad deed they say abou' me, DonEstorbodelaBodegaDominicanaheearmeroareeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep?





I cannard comprehen' these.

I was nice. I leesten, polide, the lady askeeen' the Woooman all the questions. I waid por my questions. Polide. Quied. Then I ged bore' y go to seed arn the table arn the terrace. Yoomans: Blablablabla.

Neghs' theen' I know ees ENORMOUS man makeen' yompa arn the rooftarpo, pointeen'' his Neekon ad me: cleekc cleeck cleeck. PAPARAZZI!

I stare ad heeem with roun' eyes. Can I be nowhere een peace? He ees makeen' peectures weethoud askeen' my permeesion. Biolation ob my righ's. He ees also seeppeen gin-dreenk thad the Wooman geeb heem. Arn my roop.


Eerreetable. Ees slandair. I show them eerreetable.


Doan' I deserb more respeghd? Does no one lorb me????  Sarb.

I yam so sad

Later een thees story ees wreetten, Estorbo try "halfheartedly" to scratch worn ob the beeseetors.



I doan' remember theese? Porquewhy? Porque eed nebber happen! Estorbo does NORTHEEN "half heartedly". When I scratch you, you bleed, you die.

Pag ob lies.

I yab email' my lawyer.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

My carndeetion

I yam waideen'.

Always, I waid.

These ees my libe.

Waid waid waid.

Eef eed corms, weell I know eed?

Tuesday, July 17, 2012


Sormetime' I ged a leedle warm. Eed ees forgheen' July.

Eed's my poddle, y I weell soagh eef I wan' to.