Blog Anniversary

Um ... hello! Today is a special day on the blog. Yeah, yeah. Today is the day that the blog is one year old.

Happy birthday to the blog.
Happy birthday to the blog.
Happy birthday dear bl-og.
Happy birthday to the blog.

Exactly 365 days ago, I started things off with ...

Um ... hello. Ozzie is helping me to write a blog. He was inspired by a truly excellent book, Click, Clack, Moo. I think means that he loves me. Ozzie denies it. Pudge bear says it is merely a period of detente. I don't care, a bear has to take love where he can find it nowadays.

So now I can share my thoughts with the world. The only problem is that ... um ... I can't think of anything to say at the moment. That's kinda the problem with having stuffin' for brains. I'll think of something soon.

Stay Tuned.

Wow. Wow. Um ... who knew that we'd think of so many things to say over the year? I guess I didn't say everything. I had a lot of help from my friends. Together we made over 100 posts, which is about two posts a week (Pudgie helped me with the math). Um ... since we hang out in the bed all day, you'd think we'd have more time to post, but our schedule keeps us kinda busy and we're not very fast typists. Really, we struggle to post as often as we do. It's not that we don't like posting. We do, we really do. We're just kinda slow about it.

But ... um ... I had no idea this blog would grow the way it has. To be perfectly honest, we didn't really know what to say at the start. We even linked to a picture of a dog named Wagsy. Um ... I don't usually like to say anything mean, but since I wrote the post I guess it's okay, but that was probably our worst post ever. But we figured it out pretty quickly after that. December 2004 was a good month for posts. We talked about children, snow, Notre Dame football, and free will. Oooh, and then came January. Yeah, yeah, I thought January was an excellent month of posts. But I wouldn't want anyone to think February wasn't a good month. Or March. Or any month. Um ... let's face it, I'm really bad at picking favorites. I really went out on a limb picking a least favorite (but it was a really boring post).

Um ... we've added a lot of stuff to the site as well. We have pictures, so you can see how cute we are. We have a store, so you can wear clothing with our faces on them. Actually, Buffy just designed a new shirt with Goofball on it. I think it looks very cute, but I always think Goofball looks cute. We have an email address, so people can send us mail. Um .... Ozzie has also organized all the posts by author and subject, so you can read your favorite type of posts. We even have a picture puzzle sorta thing on the side that rotates pictures. Oooh, I really like that feature. I can sit and watch it for hours. Everyone just looks so cute.

Um ... most of all, we've had fun and made new friends like Teddy and Spaulding. We're glad that you are reading and hope you enjoy reading half as much as we like writing.

Reporting Fluff Piece

So like you never know when opportunity will knock. It could like be tomorrow or it could be years and years from now. Harrison Ford was working as like a carpenter and stuff before George Lucas saw him and said, "Like, you'd look totally hot as a cowboy named Bob Falfa." Dumb name, but Harrison Ford became a mega-watt star. And you never know how opportunity will knock. I mean, you'd think it would be a simple "knock-knock", but I bet it could come in the form of a doorbell, phone call, text message, or even some random guying walking up to you on a street and saying, "Oh my god, I totally need to you to star in my low budget local TV commercial." Like my point is, you just never know, so an aardvark had better be prepared.

I've decided to be as well rounded as possible. I mean it can only help my chances of becoming a real celebrity. You know, one of those celebrities where people whisper at lunch, "Oh my god, Dustin Hoffman is sitting right over there!" and not a pseudo-celebrity where people wonder, "Wait a minute, I think that guy played a cop or something on TV once." And once you've made it, having other skills can only help you maintain your status as a celebrity. I mean Cher stunk as an actress and everyone rolled her eyes when she started making movies, but then she like won an Oscar and everyone said, "Wow, Mermaids was awesome. Like I hope she sticks with acting and doesn't put out any more lame albums like I Paralyze." But then she came up with that amazingly uplifting dance hit Believe and everyone held their noses at Tea with Mossilini. If it weren't for acting AND singing, Cher would be some random factoid in an early addition of Trivial Pursuit.

So like I have to try a bit of everything. I've tried by hand at photography and modeling and fashion guru and movie reviewing and book reviewing and TV reviews and clothing designer and even being a hanger on. I've been a busy aardvark this past year. I take professional development way seriously. Oprah may have more going on, but she's had more years to practice. I'm completely prepped to manage my aardvark media empire.

But ya know, there are still areas where I'm just not prepared. I haven't appeared in any artsy indie-flick. My generic over-produced demo hasn't been recorded. And like, I'm not sure they ever will. The Bend is a little quiet, you know what I'm saying. I mean, I love our pad here and my family is here, so like I'm happy, but it would be hard to launch an acting or music career here. But one thing I think I could do to build a portfolio is news reporting. Oh my god, I've watched the local TV here and it is really not that hard. I'd have to bite my tongue when the make up lady gave me really horrendous bangs, but I could totally stand in front of Notre Dame stadium and smile into the camera while looking cold. And I could totally use the local experience to vault into national attention. Like Insult the Dog Comic started out doing little kids parties before Conan O'Brien discovered him. And I've got WAAAY more talent than Insult. For starters, he's just a sock puppet and not a very attractive one at that. I'm a gorgeous aardvark, who do you think late night TV veiwers would prefer to watch? And like he has just one schtick. I mean you know he will be rude to the person he is interviewing and then say he'll poop on some random object. Is this entertaining? I think not. I could totally mix it up and keep the audience guessing what will come next. One day I'll be a younger Joan Rivers and the next day I'll come at the guest like Mike Wallace. But like I have to start somewhere and get some practice so one of the local stations will see that I'm hot stuff and offer me a gig.

So like I decided to do one of those holiday fluff pieces ...

Buffy: So like I'm standing here on the edge of the bed on Thanksgiving. The house is really quiet cuz Harriet and Ozzie are off in the boondocks eating turkey and stuff, so the bears are all alone. So this is like the perfect chance to find out how the bears really feel about pressing issues. Excuse me, sir?

Wagsy: Um ... oh, hi Buffy! How are you?

Buffy: Oh my god, like this is the problem with being a local celebrity. Everyone already knows me so like I can't catch them off guard. I'd like to interview you for local television, sir. You will like totally end up on the 6 o'clock news.

Wagsy: Um ... okay, I suppose. Um ... is Amelia holding a video camera? Hi, Amelia!

Buffy: Yeah. Like what did you think I would record you with, this pencil? As if. Okay, so like here is the question ... "What are you thankful for this year?"

Wagsy: Um ... that is a really good question, Buffy.

Buffy: Thanks. Did you notice how I like paused for dramatic effect. I think it makes me look totally serious.

Wagsy: Yeah, yeah. I did notice that. You did a very nice job. Um ... I'm thankful for my bunny George. Not a lot of bears have their very own bunny and I'm glad that I do.

Buffy: Thank you, sir, it is refreshing to hear someone endorse sweatshop labor in a public forum -- especially on a holiday like Thanksgiving. Next --

Wagsy: Um ... that is not what I said at all. I just love my bunny. There is nothing wrong with saying that.

Buffy: We'll let the court of public opinion be the judge of that, sir. Let's try to get a broader range of opinion. You there, sir. Hello? Like I'm trying to talk to you.

Goofball: Yeah, whatchya want, Buffy.

Buffy: I'd like you to answer a totally important current events question.

Goofball: No sweat, Buffy. Hey, is Amelia carrying a video camera? Where did she get the fly technology?

Buffy: Like what is up with you people? Haven't you ever seen an armadillo with a camera strapped to her back?

Goofball: Now that you mention it, no I haven't seen an armadillo with a camera strapped to her back before. Any more questions? That one was easy.

Buffy: Okay, like what are you thankful for this year.

Goofball: You know, it's been a good yearr for me and I have a lot to be thankful for. I got a lot of cuddling. I met some nice new bears. I saw a picture of a penguin wearing a hat and mowing a lawn. But when it comes down to it, I'm grateful that I have a roof over my head and lots of good friends to hang with -- like you Buffy.

Buffy: Oh my god, that was like the most insightful interview I've ever done. I totally rock. Did you get that on tape, Amelia?

Amelia: Yes.

Buffy: Do I look good in this light? How is my hair? Does my tail look too big?

Amelia: You look very nice, Buffy.

Buffy: Thanks, Amelia. I really appreciate you helping me out with this. Howya holding up? You good to do one or two more interviews?

Amelia: I think so, but they better be short. This camera is heavy.

Buffy: You're a down chick, Amelia. I owe you one. Actually I owe you a lot more than one. You're always there for me. Like, I have no idea where I'd be without you. I'd prob--

Amelia: Buffy, we're still rolling tape and I'm getting tired.

Buffy: My bad. I'll get back on it. Excuse me, sir? Would you mind like sharing your opinion with the world?

Duck: Quack quack.

Buffy: Groovy. So like, Mr. Duck, what are you most thankful for this year?

Duck: Quack quaCK Quack quack quack. QuACK quack quack. Quack QUACK quack quack QUAck QUACK. QUACK quack quack QUack quack quACK. Quack quack quack.

Buffy: I think Mr. Duck just summed up everyone's feelings about the season. At least I think he did. I mean like he's a duck and stuff so like he's hard to understand. Whatever. This is Buffy on the corner of the bed wishing you an Aardvark Fabulous Thanksgiving.

Okay, so like that didn't quite go as planned and was a little rough around the edges. There is a reason why I'm practicing people. Like, do you think Barbara Walters started out being Barbara Walters? I don't think so. Interviewing people is a little harder than I thought it would be, but like I totally have faith in myself. If I keep working at it, I'll be Dan Rather only young and good looking.

Happy Thanksgiving

Um ... hello! Happy Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is a verrry good time of year for the bears, so it might be our favorite holiday. For starters, it is cold outside and that means more cuddling with the bears. With our fur and polyester fibers, we don't really get cold, so we can just enjoy the extra cuddle time. It gets dark sooner, too, and that means cuddling starts earlier in the night. Well, that is the upside to darkness. The downside is that the darkness makes Harriet depressed and that makes us a little sad. But since the darkness only just began, she's fine and we get more cuddling. February might be a different story. Um ... by February the bears will trade in our cuddling with an unhappy person for less cuddling with a happier person.

Um ... so those are two things to be thankful for. Thanksgiving also has football, which means? ... you guessed it, cuddling! Yeah, yeah. People don't seem to realize it, but watching football is the perfect time to cuddle with your teddy bear. We have received several emails from people who think that it is a little unusual to cuddle with your teddy bear while watching football. But we couldn't disagree more. Harriet likes football and she likes cuddling with teddy bears. That seems pretty normal. And when you watch a player get injured, don't you want to hold your teddy bear close and feel safe and warm while you hope the player is okay? Um ... the only reason you wouldn't want to watch football with your teddy bear is buffalo wings. Ooooh, those wings are messy. You wouldn't want your teddy bear anywhere near buffalo wings. Be sure to wash your hands very carefully before picking up your teddy bears if you have been anywhere near buffalo wings. Um ... maybe you should sanitize your whole body before getting near your teddy bear. Buffalo wings are scary.

And ... um ... people eat turkey on Thanksgiving. We feel a little guilty about liking this part of Thanksgiving, but we're very honest here at Furry Thoughts for Fuzzy Times. We feel very sorry for the turkey. We really do. But at Thanksgiving people eat too much, which makes them sleepy. And they eat too much early in the afternoon, which opens a prime late afternoon napping window. And turkeys have tryptophane, which makes even the most grumpy of grump-butts want to nap. Um ... I don't think there is anything we could do to rescue the turkey, so we might as well enjoy the cuddling.

So ... um ... yeah, Thanksgiving might have the best possible nap.

1. On a cold day
2. where it gets dark outside early,
3. people eat too much
4. food that contains tryptophane
5. early in the day
6. and settle in to watch football
7. while cuddling and napping with their teddy bears.

That might just be the best sentence ever written in the English language.

Parsimonious Explanations

I fear Goofball jumped to a rather hasty conclusion. Over many years of careful observation and interviews with informed parties, I have crafted a theory as to what happens when bears disappear during naps.

Initially, I suspected that the guests were kidnapping the missing bears. However, guests frequently arrive and bears seldom disappear. It is possible that the tendency to walk about with a teddy bear is a stochastic process with a low probability of occurrence. However, I highly suspect there exists heterogeneity in guests. That is, most guests do not walk away with teddy bears, but a particular type of guest is prone to teddy bear acquisition.

The reader might think this theorizing is somewhat odd, but I would like to remind the reader that guests are a theoretical construct for teddy bears. Bears do not observe the behavior of guests since we are napping throughout the event of their visit. Indeed, Harriet's discussion of the guests is our only evidence that the visit occurred. Well, Harriet's discussion and the missing teddy bears.

The question then becomes, what type of guest would walk away with teddy bears? What evidence can we muster to address the question? For starters, what bear was missing? Bear. [Note: We really should come up with better names in the future. Naming a teddy bear Bear is unnecessarily confusing.] What is unique about Bear? He was one of the two bears ready to be sent to new families. Past experience has shown that this is a regular pattern among missing bears. Thus, it is my hypothesis that the guests of interest are the children for whom the teddy bear is intended. Extensive interviews with Harriet confirm that this is the case.

[Editor: Couldn't you have simply asked Harriet in the first place? Why go through all the reasoning?]

I suppose I could have simply asked Harriet, but I would rather exercise my cognitive abilities. There are precious few puzzles to occupy my intellect in this household.

[Editor: I think you just wanted to show off.]

It is conceivable. At this moment, I would like to congratulate Bear on his successful integration into his new family. Good luck, young man. Remember your lessons for they will serve you well.

Bear Napping

Stop the presses! Whoa! There has been a bear napping! And I don't mean bears were sleeping, because that wouldn't be news. I mean a teddy bear has been snatched, abducted, and nabbed. And that is news. Sometimes we can't find Platy for a day or two, but this is serious.

Here's what went down, house guests came over, so all the bears hid in the closet as we are want to do. I don't personally want to hide, because I'm a people-bear and naturally gregarious. But some my brethren are a little more shy and don't like meeting new people. That poses something of a dilemma for us. You see, if a guest sees me, then he or she might surmise that there are other bears residing in the house. Everyone knows that bears live in dens full of other bears. So the guest might start poking around and find the bear cave. I know it would be rude for a guest to search the house, but you'd be surprised what people do when you leave them unattended. They think no one is watching, but George trained with the CIA and knows what happens. Anywho, all I'm trying to say is that we were in the closet because the house was being invaded by outsiders. I don't know whether they were radically other, but they were definitely other.

And when we're in the closet, we try to make the best use of our time. The first time we all got in the closet we thought singing campfire songs would be fun. But that made too much noise and drew attention to us, so we had to find something quieter. After much deliberation in hushed tones, the bears collectively decided that closet time is nap time. So we were all asleep in the closet.

And when we woke, Bear was missing. And I don't mean a bear in some generic sense, I mean Bear, Pi's bud, the kid we just through a going away party for. Bear was nowhere to be found. He was hanging in the closet with the rest of us, but then he was gone!

Where are those meddling kids with the Mystery Machine? We could use some crime solving right about now. If the Mystery Machine isn't available, how about the Bloodhound Gang? They seemed to do a good job of getting to the bottom of things in ten minutes or less. Or maybe Sherlock Hemlock. Really, I don't care who figures out what happened. I just want to get to the bottom of this and find Bear.

Goodbye Party

Um ... hello. Today we threw a going away party for Bear and Pi. It was very sad. I mean, it was very fun. Oooh, it was very fun and a little sad. Yeah, yeah, I think that is right. It was nice to have such a large group of people together to say goodbye.



First, we started out by cuddling. That was nice. Then we decided to play charades. Um, charades is a little difficult for teddy bears to play. We don't move very quickly and our range of motion is a tad limited. So it is hard to pantomine different actions. Luckily, the only movie that most of us watch involves teddy bears, so it wasn't too hard to guess. Yeah, yeah. I think I performed Brother Bear three times. And the group guessed correctly every time. Um ... playing charades wore us out, so we decided to take a nap. Normally, I like napping, but this nap was bitter sweet since it was the last time that I would nap with Bear and Pi. Oh, saying good bye is very hard.



We decided to give Bear and Pi a lobster in honor of their new journey. What a nice way to begin a trip. Who wouldn't want to receive a lobster? Lobby is so friendly. Lobby managed to cheer everyone up and we felt like dancing. We boogied and shook our stuffin' until we felt like napping. Napping is the best.

Saying goodbye is not the best. I don't where it ranks precisely, but I don't like saying goodbye. I know that Bear and Pi have small children waiting for them, but I'll miss them a lot.

Um ... good luck little guys.

Vegetative State: Part II

So like this time, I'm just going to start with the review, so I don't get sidetracked again.

Okay, like right off the bat, I'm a little suspicious of movies where the same person writes, directs, and stars. I mean, could anything scream "Look at ME!" louder? I doubt it. The whole movie is one big ego trip for Zach Braff. Come on, he named his character Andrew Largeman and like everyone in the whole movie calls him Large. Please. Is someone feeling a little insecure about getting a star on the sidewalk? It's like he is saying, "I'm a big star. Honest. People watch Scrubs and care about it. They really do. I'm huge!" Desperation is not cool.

So let's get to the important thing, do the guys look hot in this movie? And the aardvark says ... "Oh my god, no!" Zach Braff is the only halfway decent looking guy in the whole movie. It's like he felt insecure about his looks, so he cast only ugly people in hopes of making himself look better. And not only do the actors look appallingly normal, but they are dressed like thrift store mannequins who don't have access to a washing machine. Or a shower. So I guess we're supposed to focus on Zach Braff, well, let's give the baby his bottle and focus only on him. How does he look? I sup-pose he looks o-kaay, but like he can't carry a whole movie. He actually looks like Keanu Reeves less attractive cousin or something. Keanu would have totally made the movie more entertaining. I kept waiting for Largeman to yell, "Dude, I totally lost Bill. I gotta find him or Rufus is going to be pissed." And "that Frude Dude" would have totally fit into Garden State's psychiatrist theme. When find yourself wishing that Keanu Reeves was starring in a movie, then you know you're in for a long two hours.

So if kids aren't into the movies for the star, maybe it is something about the plot. Like if that is the case, our country is in a lot of trouble. The movie begins with Largeman (don't forget, Braff is a BIG star) lying in bed listening to his father leave a message on the answering machine about his paraplegic mother drowning herself in the bathtub. It's a heavy way to begin a movie, but like it could be good. It should give the rest of the movie some emotional weight, right? Wrong. I mean when the whole point of the main character is that he can't feel anything, then why is an aardvark supposed to care either? So instead of spending time with relatives or talking to his father, Largeman (BIG star) goes to crazy parties with his loser friends from high school.

And what is up with his high school? Largeman lives in a HUGE expensive house. I mean the bathroom must have run them a cool 80g's. The party he goes to has fashionably dressed women snorting lines off pilate firmed abs (it's so disgusting). But then, like most of his friends are working class stiffs who live in houses that the housing authority would pay you to tear down. As if. The point of moving to a suburb in New Jersey is so that your son doesn't go to school with people like that.

But then Mr. Big Star Braff meets Princess Leia's mom, and I guess they are supposed to fall in love or something. Oh my god, Natalie Portman was annoying and ugly looking. I'm betting that Jar-Jar Binks sells more action figures and posters than Padme and her royalties are drying up, cause Natalie acts in Garden State like she is channelling Jar-Jar. Like I can't tell you how annoying this character was. I guess we're supposed to think, "She's the first person who made that large man feel any emotion," but like the only emotion that Princess Leia's mom is capable of generating in this movie is annoyance. Part of it is the script and part of it is that when Natalie went to Harvard her head got filled up with so much other stuff that she forgot how to act.

The script is beyond bad. I almost snarfed when the weird hippy dude said "Good luck exploring your infinite abyss." I mean, it is bad enough that you have a boat sitting in a large quarry next to big houses in New Jersey with antique dealers living in it, but then using the phrase "infinite abyss" four times in two minutes was just too much. And in case you didn't pick up on it, "Hey! The main character also has an infinite abyss. Life feels empty and he is struggling with that. Understand?!" Please. The dialogue is awful throughout the movie. I'm not sure how Braff managed, but the characters are both inarticulate and heavy-handed throughout the entire movie. I wanted to hand each character a copy of Strunk & White, while hitting them on the head with a shovel. Who knew that I would long for Dawson and his overwrought prose.

So like the movie stars ugly and poorly dressed people, totally doinks on the whole high school experience thing, has a lame love story, and is boring. Why do kids like it? What is left? Like, I'm a little scared to say this, but I think kids like it because of the polemic. Oh, did I forget to mention that? Yeah, there is like this constant drumbeat saying "Ritalin and Lithium and Paxil and Zoloft are bad." They explain why our main character is always numb and acts like a telephone pole. And what is the solution to all these problems associated with prescription drugs? Stop taking them. I'm totally serous. The key to a happy life is to just stop taking your prescribed medications. I, for one, am completely appalled. And a little bit scared. I mean how screwed up is this generation of kids if THIS is the movie that they respond to?

And more importantly, how is a clean-living gorgeous aardvark supposed to become a superstar?

Vegetative State

Like sometimes do you ever feel like you just don't fit in? I mean you look around and everyone is totally into something and you can't see the appeal. Like a few years ago Paris and Lindsey were wearing these boots with all this fake fur on top, but the look left me cold. I just couldn't get into it, ya know? Every time I looked at the boots, I kinda felt like one of my relatives had been turned into clothing and that isn't cool. I'm a slave to fashion, but there shouldn't be slaves making fashion. That is why I am totally against sweatshop labor.

Soooooo, the point is that I sometimes don't understand popular trends. I know you're sitting there thinking, "Buffy, aren't you like a trend setter? Why do you care about what other people are doing now?" And the people thinking that are some of the smartest people in the world and totally 100% right. But there are two types of trend setters in the world.

First, there are the visionaries who are like WAAAAY ahead of their time. They have their own thing that they want to share with the world, but like the world doesn't get it at all, but the artist like totally keeps at it, but is all frustrated because there is nobody to share things with and stuff. And then like years and years later, other artists understand what was up and then brings the ideas to the ordinary people and then everyone is like "Whoa, now I totally understand what that original visionary was up to." But like up until then, the visionary was like poor and living in some busted apartment in a lame part of town. I can think of a bunch of examples off the tip of my snout:

• The Velvet Underground totally inspired lots of popular groups in the 80s, but they like sold only a handful of albums. I'm not sure how the distributor knew to send those few albums to little kids who would grow up to be famous, but like he totally succeeded. Maybe they should have sold them to older kids so the Velvet Underground would have been famous faster.



• Everyone thought Van Gogh was a freak until he has been painting for years and years. And then I guess they still thought he was a freak, but they recognized that his paintings were beautiful and hung them up in their bathrooms and discount stores.



• Alec Guiness was a truly great actor, but like all of his work was over in England and like you almost never see those movies at the local Cineplex. But then he played Obi-won Kenobe and everyone thought, "Dude, that Obi-won Kenobe can like really act. Who is that old guy?" Like Sir Alec would have been bigger than Robin Williams if he had been in an action movie earlier in his caeer. Maybe if he had played James Bond during the 50s things would have worked out differently for him.



• Nietzsche, he was like poorer than most graduate students for most of his life. By the time he became famous, he had syphilis and his brain had turned to oatmeal. Totally tragic.

So like for all of these visionaries, like they didn't care that nobody noticed how cool they were. They were totally committed to their art and thought people would eventually think they were cool. And that is fine for them, but like I don't have a craft that I am committed to. I'm committed to being famous and like I don't want to be poor and live in a busted apartment in nowhere'sville.

That leads us to the second type of trend setter, the person just in front of the wave. You know, those people who aren't doing anything REALLY new, but are original enough that people worship the ground they walk on and give them lots of money. Oh my god, there are so many examples of these types of people. Madonna is like totally my hero and totally ripping off other people's ideas. She knows that you just have to sell it better than anyone else. And she totally does and for that reason she's like really famous and really rich and people know all about her. Tom Hanks isn't as good an actor as John Malkovich, but he'll take these really normal roles and do just good enough a job to make people want to see the movie. And what do Madonna and Tom Hanks have in common? They are all really rich, totally famous, completely glamorous, and I want to be just like them. They don't have to bring anything new, they just have to act the part.

And not having new ideas doesn't mean you can't still be intense. Like if you're a musician, being brooding and intense is all part of the image that you totally crafted. I mean I *love* Coldplay and think that Chris Martin is totally hot, but like they aren't doing anything Radiohead hasn't done before. But people can listen to Coldplay at Starbucks, and Radiohead like weirds people out. I know the intensity is all an act, cuz I've seen Chris interact with Gwyneth and Apple (btw, who names their child after a fruit? Weird). He's like all sweet and smiley. But teenagers want to see angst, so you have to frown and keep four days of stubble at all times. There is a reason that the band is named Coldplay and not Warmplay.

Aaa-n-ee-ways, I got off track. Like the point is that to be really famous, you have to be just ahead of the wave. So like it is totally important to me to find out what the wave is now. I mean like surfers go out and paddle around and look like dorks so that they can find themselves on a good wave and look totally hot. I need to do the same thing. So I had to find out why Garden State is so popular with kids today. I mean college kids are describing it as the movie that captures their generation.

Like, I think I just wrote the longest introduction to a movie review in the history of the internet. I'm exhausted. I'll have to review the movie later. Peace.

Laundry Basket

H-h-h-i. Hi. The other day, something exciting happened. Wagsy and Goofball and George and Lewis got into a laundry basket. Then they got out of the laundry basket. It was very exciting.

Four doofs in a laundry basket -- so what?

So like the other day, Amelia and I are lying around talking about how the media is all hypocritical because they say that Britney is a bimbo and not interesting, but then they like follow her around everywhere. Hello! You can't have it both ways fellas. And then before we can start planning out my next photographic art exhibition, like this ruckus gets started. I mean it like totally came out of nowhere and totally derailed my train of thought. And like this household is usually pretty peaceful, so like you notice when feathers get ruffled.

Like I'm still not sure of what led to the uproar. Wagsy is all up in Goofball's face telling him to do something. So then Goofball suggests like burying Wagsy, who then like comes right back and talk about jealousy. At this point, I'm in total shock. I mean this NEVER happens. And Wagsy and Goofball are tight like my store's marketing budget. So I'm blown away and stuff. I mean, if this had been an episode of Law and Order then Goofball or Wagsy would have ended up dead. I didn't catch all of it, but it sounded intense.

So like I turn around to ask Amelia if she knows what is going on and when I turn back, Wagsy, Lewis, George, and Goofball had all jumped in a laundry basket. I was ready for anything, but I was NOT expecting them jump in a laundry basket. It should be pointed out that Lewis was wearing an adorable set of overalls that seemed perfect for our unseasonably warm fall. So like now I am transfixed. Like what is going to happen?

It turns out that they are pretending to go bobsledding. George and Lewis seem really into it and Wagsy is providing sound effects that sound sort of like a street sweeper. Goofball is complaining about sitting in the back of the basket and about elbows and stuff. The guys are totally rocking the basket side to side and seem to be enjoying himself.

So like I turn to Amelia to tell her how sweet this whole thing is, but like when I turn back, everyone has jumped out of the laundry basket and there is excess stuffin laying around. Absolutely foul. So gross.

And I was there, but I have no idea what happened. I mean it might have been exciting, but I missed it and noone wants to talk about it. It is moments like these I wish the paparazi were following me around so these things would be documented and I could watch re-plays on television.

Laundry Basket Bobsledding: Goofball's Tail

Okay, I want to set the record straight. Now, I don't disagree with anything Wagsy said per se, but I wanted to provide an alternative history. You know, not HIS-story, but MY story. I suppose I'm a him too, but providing another perspective will help the reader understand how events transpired.

So we're all lounging. Just chillin' in the bed and shooting the breeze. Out of the blue, Wagsy gets all antsy and starts pushing for an activity. Now I wasn't opposed to doing something, but I was perfectly happy doing nothing before Wagsy's mandate. I'm willing to go along with the plan, but I want to know what is going down first. Trouble was, Wagsy was all declaration and no details. He didn't know what we should do, just knew that we should do something. My initial proposal of burying Wagsy in blankets was rejected, so I suggested laundry basket bobsledding.

Now everyone seemed to like this suggestion and I'm thinking we're going to have some fun. I suppose we did, but I didn't anticipate how the fun would be distributed. Guess where they sat the idea man? You know, the good looking genius who came up with the idea of laundry basket bobsledding in the first place. Where'd I sit? The back. Yup, the back of the bobsled. So I didn't get the wind in my face or an unobstructed view as we went down the mountain. And, who pushes the bobsled the longest? That's right, the person in the back. So here I come up with a good idea and end up pushing all those useless piles of polyester down the mountain. And when a sled is going downhill, what direction do objects travel relative to the sled. You got it -- the back. Everything seems to be going okay, but the next thing I know the bunny is jumpin' ship and a big mess is headed my way.

I'm not saying the other bears are out to get me. I'm not paranoid or anything. I'm just pointing out that I am not getting the respect I deserve from my peers. I know Wagsy loves me and he's my bud. But to paraphrase a blond 1950s icon: I got the fuzzy end of the lollipop.

Laundry Basket Bobsledding

Um ... hello! Since Ozzie is a pillowhead spends his time making pointless, "painfully annoying" mix CDs, we bears decided to entertain ourselves. Now that Ozzie and Harriet both have jobs, we spend most of the day amongst only bears and we've become very good at having fun without our people. The untrained eye might think we are lying around, but actually ... um ... we are ... um ... yeah, we kinda are just lying around. But, I'd just like to say that napping is very fun.

So at first we decided to entertain ourselves by napping. And we had a very good nap. But it seemed a little unsatisfying and that is ... um ... unusual and a little disappointing. Sometimes Harriet feels tired and unsatisfied after a nap, but bears almost always sleep well. Why wasn't the nap doing its job?

Um ... well, it turns out that we wanted to make Ozzie a little jealous so he would come play with us. I know it isn't very mature or furry, but ... well ... it was kinda true. I think we wanted the pillowhead to notice all the fun he was missing out on and ... um ... napping didn't seem to do the trick. So we had to do something new.

Enter Laundry Basket Bobsledding. Wow. I think Goofball came up with the idea. Wow.

So here we are at the top of the mountain with lots of fluffy and white snow. Looking down we can see that it is very steep and ... um ... a little scary. We bears aren't very used to excitement.

Whoosh! Look at how my ears are flying back because of the wind. Lewis and my bunny George are getting pushed back in all the acceleration. Whoosh! ... that is kind of fun, I think I'll say it again ... Whoosh! ... Whoosh! WHOOSH!

Um ... unfortunately, Lewis couldn't handle all the excitement and blew stuffing. George decided this was a good time to get out of the laundry basket. Goofball and I seconded the motion. Poor Lewis. Don't worry though, his snazzy overalls were okay.

And you know, despite all that excitement, Ozzie never once looked over at us. Maybe it was because we were moving too fast for him to see. Whoosh! Whoooosh!

Um ... whoosh.

Painfully Annoying

Oooof! Um ... hello. Ozzie can be so frustrating some times. He was working on his laptop in bed and everyone was happy. Squawky and I were watching him type and read and we were all cozy. Then Ozzie decided to make a "Painfully Annoying" mix of music. Um ... I'm not an expert in music, but I don't it was necessary tonight. Um ... Ween is not music and neither is Whitney Houston. Ooooh, it was painful. When Ozzie sets his mind to something, he sure can succeed. I tried stuffing cotton in my ears, but then I remembered that they are already full of polyester.

Um ... what really upset me was that Ozzie would rather spend his time listening to music he thinks is bad than play with the bears. We could have played Trivial Pursuit. Or, maybe even Yahtzee. But instead we had to listen to "She Don't Use Jelly." Um ... it is pretty insulting when you think about it.

Pudgie is really upset. Ozzie should really be working on lectures for next week. Conferences papers might be something that he could get a jump on too. Um ... there are a lot of better uses for Ozzie's time. Pudgie then said that if Ozzie insisted on wasting his time on music, he could at least listen to Beethoven or Bartok. Ozzie responded by thanking Pudgie and adding "A Fifth of Beethoven" to the mix. Pudgie was not amused. I don't think I've ever seen him so mad to be honest. He almost started hopping around he was so angry.

Um ... you know I never thought I could dislike cuddling in the bed, but when the Spice Girls are playing it is hard to enjoy anything in life. I think when Ozzie leaves the house we will have to hide the new mix cd. A bear can take only so much.

I Love this Game

Goofball here. The NBA season has started and, in theory, that should mean that Ozzie and I sit around watchin' a little ball together. Of course, in theory I could release a gold record and become a huge star in Japan, but in practice, it ain't happening. Why won't Ozzie and I be watchin' basketball together? Because the skin flint won't pony up for cable, that's why. I'd be perfectly happy to watch Sir Charles and Kenny banter about basketball on Thursday nights, but our abode in The Bend is sans TNT.

Now, long time readers might be asking themselves, "Self, isn't Ozzie the most hoopless of hoopsheads?" And you'd be right. The boy spends hours pouring over box scores. He exchanges lame emails singing the praises of his ninth round pick of Smush Parker in his fantasy basketball draft. Ozzie has had two recurring dreams in his life: one involved walking around his junior high school naked while sitting in a bath tub; and the other was that Tracy McGrady and Kevin Garnett were playing on the same team. The kid is obsessed and pathetic, but he won't bring it into the house saying it's like an alcoholic opening a bar. I keep trying to tell him, "Haven't you seen Cheers? Funny and charming stuff happens when an alcoholic opens a bar." But Ozzie ain't buyin' any, so I only get to watch a handful of basketball games.

Truth be known, I don't fully understand or appreciate the game of basketball. For starters, I'm three feet tall and have never exercised a day in my life. I don't know a "hand check" from a "rain check" and I don't really care. I suppose it is kind of novel to watch people sweat on TV. Usually producers go to great lengths to hide perspiration, but not the producers of the NBA. Do they douse the players during time outs? And placing an inflated cow hide through an iron ring doesn't hold my interest. Maybe it's because I identify more with the ball than the players. I dunno. Anywho, the point is that I watch basketball to hang out with Ozzie and not because I like the sport.

What I do like about the NBA are the players. Where else can you find a multi-millionaire who physically choked an employer turning down a $21 million three year contract sayin'

"Why would I want to help them win a title? They're not doing anything for me. I've got a lot at risk here. I've got my family to feed."

That is high comedy. How could it be topped? Well, suppose the player found himself unemployed next season because no team wanted to offer him even $1.5 million per year. THAT is what we call a rude wake up call by the invisible hand.

Seven million bucks
will buy many teddy bears
Hugs for the jobless

But my favorite player by far is Shaq. Like his game, my enthusiasm for Shaq can't be contained. First off, he dubbed himself the Big Aristotle. You really can't top that nickname. Big Hume? Nope. Super Spinoza? Huge Heidegger? Not even close. Big Aristotle or bust, baby.

Second off, he's big. He's comically big. Big shoes. Big hands. Big appetites. Big smile. BIG! He's a cartoon not an athlete. No wonder the Japanese were obsessed with him. Shaq is like a rim rattlin' Power Puff Girl. Well, maybe not, but you get the point.

Finally, the Big Aristotle says whacky stuff. When asked whether he visited the Parthenon during the Athens Olympics, he said "I can't really remember the names of the clubs we went to." Funny thing is, I bet there is a club called the Parthenon in Athens. But my all time favorite Shaq-ism is "My game is like the Pythagorean Theorem; no one has the answer." Not unless you're counting 8th grade geometry students, big fella.

Really, any sport starring the Big Aristotle has to have something going for it. I don't even mind that Shaq-fu sprained his ankle the other night. When he's not playing, the Diesel can spend even more time sitting around talking to reporters or making Nestle Crunch ads. He just makes me happy, alright?

Now, I wish Ozzie would get around to making me happy and get cable. How else is a bear gonna hang with his person?

Birthday Party

Um ... hello! So this weekend, we threw a big birthday party for Harriet. Yeah, yeah. It was really fun. We bears don't throw parties very often, but when we do we really go all out. Let's see there is ... um .... Christmas and ... um ... National Teddy Bear Day and ... Valentine's Day and ... um ... Easter and St. Patrick's Day ... um ... and Election Day because that is when we get Ozzie back and he stops being tired and grouchy and ... May Day and April Fool's Day and ...

(whisper)

No, no, I don't think we celebrate Kwanzaa.

(whisper)

Yeah, I'm pretty sure that we don't celebrate Kwanzaa.

(whisper)

You're right it is a pretty word, maybe we should look into celebrating Kwanzaa,

(whisper)

No, I can't recall ever celebrating Australia Day. Um ... do you --

(whisper)

No, we don't celebrate Anzac Day. Look, I'm try--

(whisper)

Platy, do you mind!? I'm trying to write a post about Harriet's birthday party and you're ... um ... distracting me.

(whimper)

Um, that's okay, Platy. Don't be sad ... ooh! I made Platy cry. Um ... I know that you didn't mean to be annoying. Don't worry. Everyone interupts me when I post. ooh! He's still crying. What should I do? ... um ... Do you want to help me post, Platy? Would that make you feel better?

Platy: M-m-m-maybe.

Wagsy: Good, good. Um ... what was I talking about?

Platy: H-h-holidays.

Wagsy: Um ... you're right. The point I was making is that we don't celebrate many holidays, so we make a big deal out of Harriet's birthday. All of the bears get together and get dressed up for the party. Sometimes we have trouble deciding upon a theme for dressing up. We all have different ideas. Goofball wanted a Western theme so he could dress up as a cowboy. Pudgie wanted everyone to dress in academic regalia to honor Harriet's first birthday as a professor. Buffy suggested --

Platy: I wanted a vegetable theme so I could come as root marm.

Wagsy: Um ... yeah, yeah you did suggest vegetables. It was a very nice suggestion. Um ... I don't think I've ever heard anyone say they wanted to dress up like rootmarm. What is rootmarm?

Platy: Thanks. It is a brown flavorless mush.

Wagsy: O-kay ... anyways, the theme we decided upon was birthday party, so we all put on birthday hats. I think we looked very cute.



Wagsy: Ooh! I love it when we all get together for parties. It is so nice to see the whole family together.

Platy: Especially at Kwanzaa.

Wagsy: Um ... Platy, I already told you; we don't celebrate Kwanzaa. I'm sure it is a very nice holiday, but ... um ... we just don't do it. ... Um ... anyways, we surprised Harriet and we gave her flowers. We would have given her a body pillow but Ozzie moved a little too slowly.

Platy: We also gave her a lobster.

Wagsy: Oooh! You're right, you're right. We did give Harriet a lobster. Lobby is a very nice lobster too. We give her a lobster every year. He's about the size of a bouquet of flowers, and he's really colorful, and he's always happy. Yeah, yeah, it is nice to receive a lobster. No holiday would be complete without giving a lobster. Um ... I think Harriet enjoyed her party. What do you think, Platy?

Platy: My hat didn't fit.



Wagsy: Um ... you're right. Your hat didn't fit. I guess that is a problem with being a small bear.

Platy: I'm a platypus.

Wagsy: I know, Platy, that --

Platy: I'm brown. I'm round.

Wagsy: And you're upside down.

Platy: Yes. How did you know?

Wagsy: Lucky guess. Um ... Happy birthday, Harriet!