Leisure time

I yab been beeseeteen' the neighbors.

An patrolleen' my ranch.

The Wooman ees sayeen' rude theen's abou' my seelluette...

So I corm home por a leedle eenspeeration besi'e the cadneep.

How you lighe my seelhuette now?! I say...

GEDDOUDOBTHEFEEG! she cry.

Maghe me, I say.

OUD! she shoud.

Why? I as'. Eed's sarft: I lighe mars onder my tail. Ees nice an' cool. My tail ees hart.

Mayday!

I yab been arn eenboluntary leab. You notice'? I swear to you, today, Sonday, ees the fors time een three weeghs I yab been able to aghsess thees carmpudehair!

The Wooman refuse to geeb me a chance. Beetch. She an' I mos "share". Como?

Fors, hor new carmpudehair arribe, then eed was sen' bag to Dell (dude!) then she use' the ole' worn ob the man, an' she swears so moch when she does thees, an' then she ees beesy weeth peectures an' stories por order people, een order countries, an'...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Ees ber' boreen' yes? An me? Me? DON Estorbo de la Bodega Dominicana? Me! I yam tole', You mos waid, you do nard hab tarp prioreety.

?????

I yab FANS! I yab commeetments! Do you hab fans, do you hab commeetments. You doan' hab no fans, you doan' hab no commeetments! I wan' my blarg! I wan' my labtarp!

(Sorry, am channeling Neeck Cage een Moonstrorck, bakery scene...I yab been watcheen' mobies neghs door, through the weendow.)

I yab a resparnsebeeleety. People are COUNTEEN' arn me.

I cannard eben chegh my forgheen email! I yab leddhairs frarm people who theenk I am seeck, dead!

I YAM ALIBE!

To cope weeth the onbeliebable stress, I yam force' to ged high.

Arn tarp ob thees ber' defeecul' seetuation, the Wooman says the morgs are makeen' hor crazy. She say to hab more than worn morg, weeth deefferent peectures ob me,  she mos sed orp separate sharps por me arn Cafe Press,  an' declare eencome with taxes. She say, No way Jose. I say my name ees Estorbo, nard Jose, an' you promeese me I can maghe morgs. She say tough cookies.

I say, Are cookies como pelleds?

Ees har', har'. I yam embarrass. Bod thees ees my libe. Only worn theen' could maghe eed worse.

I coul' be a darg...

Cord the fad

Ees OK, hole' the bodhair. I yam arn a diyed.

Por fabor, gracias por your patience, bod my agen' ees bag an' weell be worgheen' arn the MORGS. You cannar' ged goo' hire' yelp these days. Tsk.

Me gustan las flores

Reeal cads prefehair pansies...

Watcheen' the barx

The hongry cad's rebenge!

You doan' feed me, I feed myselb.

The onbearable heabiness of no blargeen'

 Sheet.

How ees a cad sorpose' to wride a forgheen' BLARG, dayeen dayoud,  when he doan' be geeben aghsess to a forgheen' carmpudehair??

Madre di dios. Ees a deesgrace. I theenk I weell go to leeb weeth those wile' cads I heear ou'sie een the nighd, seengeeng een freedom.

The Wooman's redeeculous labtarp went kaput so por weeghs she ees waideen' por the new worn to arribe, an ledmetellyou when eed does eed ees goeen' to loogh fonny. Waid an see. Aghd sorprise', I deedn' say northeen'.

So the Wooman and me we hab been fighdeen' ober wheech carmpudehair to use and I try to use the Smoothman's desktarp bod the theeng loogh y aghd como un forgheen spacesheep. You press a boretorn and WHOOSH smoghe star's to corm oud ob holes y the screen goes fonny y my forr stan orp y my tail increase een bolume y I ron away.

Same theeng happen when the Wooman try to use eed, BTW. Eed's nard yos me. The theeng is corse', I tell you. Y ad hees carmpudehair ees where I mos maghe my peectures porque he has Photosharp, so no forgheen peectures, no forgheen blarg!!!

I yam goeen' to Sue. (Why does eberybardy say thees? Can sormworn porfabor yos tell me where does Sue leeb, an' how does she feex so many theengs?)

Meanwhile I yab foun' a secred plaze to hide arn the rooftarps, where noworn can fine' me. I deesappear por hours.  Ten days ago the yoomans made sorch por me een the nighd, cryeen' Storbeeeee, an' carryeen flashlighds an' loogheen' down cheemneys, an' the man goeen to the streed een case I fall down. I scare them good. GOOD! Thees weell teach them to tread Don Estorbo de la Bodega Dominicana weeth respeghd!

I deman' an iPaw. Now!

I weell be bag. These starbation ob blargs poseds ees ad an en'.