A new toy

Um ... hello. Today Ozzie installed a new DVD/VCR combo machine in the downstairs television. It looks very fancy. The DVD can record, I'm not sure what that means for the bears, but I think it must be good. Maybe we can record Sesame Street. Ooh, that would be nice.

Of course, um ... it doesn't do much good to record television shows in high fidelity digital clarity if we still use an antennae, does it? I think the new machine calls for cable. Don't you think? Or, maybe satellite television. Ooh! The promise might come true.

And, um ... what are we going to do with the old DVD player? It still works. I wonder if Ozzie will give it to the bears. Of course, a DVD player is not good without a television. ...

The land of milk and honey is on the horizon.

A Valentine for Ozzie

Um ... hello. Happy belated Valentine's Day. The bears are a little miffed at Ozzie at the moment. We missed Valentine's Day and he's supposed to help us with things like that. Ooh, we bears aren't very good at keeping track of time. Maybe it is because we nap for most of the day. Have you ever woken up from a nap and not known where you are or what day it is? We teddy bears feel that way most of the time. I guess we have stuffin' for brains, too. It's hard to know whether it is the naps or the polyester filling that causes our memory lapses. Maybe Pudgie can figure it out when he writes his book.

Um, well, I figured the best way to get even with Ozzie was to send him a Valentine on the blog. Ozzie gets very upset when I say "I love you" or call him "Daddy." I'm not quite sure why he gets so mad. He just says "Oh, brother, not again" and rolls over. I like teasing Ozzie, so I say it every now and then to get under his skin. I can't say it too often, or the big cheesecake butt holds me up by one leg and threatens to use me as a Swiffer. Ooh!

At first, I wasn't so sure about Ozzie. He seemed very uncomfortable talking to teddy bears, muttering something about "childhood neu-ros-es being unhealthy." I don't know what he was talking about. I think it is good for a person to have loyal and personable teddy bears. Harriet and I are sympatico. I know just when she is cranky or happy or needs a hug.

Um, and I also know how to upset Ozzie ...

I love you, daddy!


PS In order to avoid any confusion, I know Ozzie isn't really my father and I don't call Harriet "Mommy." Um ... I was purchased from Toys R' US and was made in China. I just say things like this to annoy Ozzie. It works, too.

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Editors Note: Well done, Wagsy. But a man can take only so much.

Valentine's Day

Okay, so like Valentine's Day passed. I sent a card to Brad, but I don't know if he received it. I mean like he probably received thousands of Valentine's Day cards from women all over the world, but I bet I'm the only aardvark sending him a card. I even sealed the envelope with a big kiss. I know you're like thinking that is way too cliche, but you obviously haven't seen an aardvark kiss. It was a really good one, too; both of my nostrils were really clear.

Say what, Wagsy? Oh, like what did I write? Well, like I knew it had to be special to catch his attention. So, like, is there a better way of grabbing attention than including a picture of myself?



I tried to look extremely serious and sexy just like those models in Cosmo. Only I totally look better because you can't see my ribs and I haven't been plucked like a frying chicken.

I don't mind being alone for Valentine's Day cuz like I'm pretty happy at the moment. I'm stunningly good looking and my modeling and press engagements don't take up a lot of time, so I can hang with my friend, Amelia. She's an armadillo. If I were an anteater, then Amelia and I would be cousins. That would be SOOO cool. But I think I'm an aardvark and I feel kind of strongly about it. I'm not quite sure why. Maybe it is because I don't want to be defined by what I do: "Anteater". Like, I KNOW I eat ants, but I am so much more than a sexy girl who eats termites and ants. I may not know where I am from, but I know where I am going.

... and dating Brad Pitt would make it so much easier to get there (and be kind of fun).

Teddy Bear Poetry

Hey there. I know all of you were expecting me to write about the Super Bowl. How do I know? Because a few zealous readers wrote asking my thoughts on the Super Bowl. I appreciate my fans out there, but there is more to the Goofball than sports commentary. I'm a bear of love, poetry, dancing, and fine films. Sports are just a sideline so I have something to talk about with Ozzie (since he doesn't write poetry, dance, or watch fine films).

But a couple of the writers were less than polite in their requests and deserve a special response. The Goofball is all about politeness and sensitivity, so I will offer my response in form of haiku:

Get covered in lint
Watch the damn game for yourself
and get off my back

I suppose that wasn't very polite, was it? I don't care! A couple of those jerks were rude to me. But that doesn't seem very fair to the other writers. Here is another haiku for them:

The Super Bowl was
between teams I don't care for
Waiting for Packers.

Ah ... that's more like it. Polite, direct, and poetic. I like Haiku. The Japanese have given us so much: cheap radios and cameras; good televisions; reliable cars; The Power Puff Girls; and haiku. I am a good student in the art of haiku. Shiki taught that haiku should have a seasonal theme. The Super Bowl is kind of seasonal. But Hekigoto believed that haiku should have a local theme or be taken from daily life capturing a first impression. The two haikus I just composed don't fit that description. I think I can do better.

South Bend has many
steak houses lining Grape Road
too bad I don't eat

Hmmm ... not quite satisfying. The last line, while true -- I don't eat because I'm a teddy bear, negates the previous two. Maybe I should have ended it "cattle run in fear." That adds a nice natural element to it. Or, I suppose I could make it more seasonal with "Shame about the rain."

I dunno. Steak houses are definitely part of the local flavor, but it doesn't capture MY daily life.

The bear in the bed
likes to snuggle with women
and get lots of sleep

What can I say? It just wrote itself. The Goofball's life summarized in seventeen syllables.

Well, that's it from the Goofball. Still spectating and speculating in The Bend.

Announcing my Intentions

So, like, I'm going to say this upfront, so you don't like get the wrong idea or something, but I'm totally not a home wrecker. I think the institution of marriage is way sacred. As soon as I find someone who is half as interesting as I am and recognizes me for the goddess that I am, I'll totally get married.

So, with that out of the way, I'm totally gunning for Brad Pitt. I mean, it's TOTALLY tragic that he and Jenn are separated, but like he's fair game now and the early aardvark gets the hunky superstar. I figure I should make a big public push to catch Brad's attention and like scare off the competition. Cause who would want to waste their time and stuff?

I know some of you are sitting there thinking to yourself, "Buffy, like you could have any guy you wanted. Why Brad?" Hello! He's like totally hot! I mean did you SEE him in Troy. And there was a LOT of him to see in Troy. There were some other hot guys in Troy, but Brad stood out as the hottest.

And, you know, he might help my quest for stardom. I mean the blog is fine and I have my own line of clothes and stuff, but like my publicist is totally not doing his job. I haven't appeared once in Us Weekly. Brad appears in like every issue. And like if we were together, I'm sure the public would be clamoring for more of me.

So what would I bring to the relationship? Duh! I would bring my sassy attitude and fashion sense. Have you seen some of the dumpy clothes Jenn has let him wear. They aren't aardvark fabulous, armadillo fabulous, or even fabulous at all. It's like he rolled out of bed and fell into a pile of naugahyde. He'd look way better in a tight fitting t-shirt with my face on it.

And, I could revitalize Brad's career. I mean, has Brad been in anything good this century? Okay, I liked Troy and Ocean's Eleven (oh my god, George Clooney and Brad Pitt in a movie together? *swoon*), but they weren't exactly art films. Brad is a very talented actor and always looking to push his boundaries. He's played Death, a monk, a terrorist, an insane dude, a stoner, and a thief (like he doesn't always steal my heart). It's like he's an everyman only he isn't because he's like totally hot. Anyway, a love story about a man and a gorgeous aardvark is not a typical Hollywood film and I think it would help audiences see Brad in a new light.

So, like maybe I should be worried about dating a divorcee and stuff, but really I'm not. Don't get me wrong; I really like Jenn and all. I thought she was amazing in Friends and I totally respect her decision not to have plastic surgery and stay true to herself and she seems really sweet and all, but I'm way better than her and her loss is my gain. I mean, who would leave me? To know me is to love me. When it comes down to it, Jenn was kind of plain. She doesn't have a big snout or unruly hair or even a tail. And like she thinks she's thin and watches her weight, but she couldn't last a day on my diet. I like eat termites and ants, which maintains my figure and makes me a cheap date.

The question isn't am I ready for Brad. The question is, like, is Brad (and the world) ready for Buffy?

A disappointing day for Ozzie

There are times that this old bear is very thankful that he cannot go grey. Overseeing two dissertations simultaneously is extremely stressful. I am extremely pleased with progress Harriet is making. Despite teaching two courses for the first time this semester (and my input into the syllabi has been minor), I am confident that Harriet will submit by March 14th.

Ozzie is another matter. I thought he was on pace to breeze past the finish line, but he misses deadline after deadline. My approach to mentoring is very hands off. I offer guidance when it is sought out and otherwise try to read my books and ignore disasters I see on the horizon. Ergo, I have a great deal of difficulty keeping Ozzie on task. The past few days have been a comedy of errors.

Sunday was lost to the Superbowl; not a bad excuse in itself and Ozzie managed to write productively in short bursts, but the day was not as productive as it should have been.

Monday was fairly unremarkable, but Ozzie couldn't quite get settled into a writing mode. I believe Ozzie said he could not find his "groove." I am truly befuddled by this mindset; grooves are for LPs, just sit down and start typing.

On Tuesday Ozzie developed a crushing sinus headache and couldn't concentrate.

Today (Wednesday) Ozzie decided to forestall any potential sinus headaches by taking Benadryl. Of course, Benadryl is diphenhydramine, which competes with free histamines to bind to the H-1 receptors on cells and thereby prevent inflammation and allergic reactions. It also depresses the central nervous system in many people, causing drowsiness and decreased reaction time. Apparently, Ozzie is one of these people and he spent the morning unsuccessfully fighting off the urge to sleep and the afternoon crashed out in his office in a most unceremonious fashion. Needless to say, there were no paragraphs of great insight written today.

Sigh. Quite frankly, today's episode is disheartening. Unable to write a dissertation because he drugged himself. Pathetic. The series of events sound like a scene from a bad slapstick comedy by Jerry Lewis or Rowan Atkinson, not the birth of a competent scholar. I'm getting too old for this.

Unjustly accused

Um ... hello. We're very sorry that the bears haven't written lately. Since Ozzie is working on his dissertation, we don't have reliable access to a computer. It is very vexing. The bears get ignored all day AND and and we don't get to update our blog. Ooh, I'll be glad when these dissertations are finished. The only reason I can type now is that Ozzie is baking apple pie for a Superbowl party and left his computer unguarded. The Wags dog seizes the opportunity and pounces!

You will never guess what the pillowhead did the other day. Harriet lost her wallet. She is a little prone to losing things, but the bears love her anyway. She searched the entire house and then thought maybe she left it in the office (I don't know how she works there. It is made of cinderblocks and doesn't look very comfy. Much better to write in a bed with a lobster on your head). Well, she got to work and couldn't find the wallet, so she called Ozzie and asked him to search the house again. Ooh, he turned the house upside down looking for the wallet, but he couldn't find it anywhere. Then things turned ugly:

Ozzie: Wagsy, have you seen Harriet's wallet?

Wagsy: Um, no, no I haven't.

Ozzie: Are you sure you didn't take Harriet's wallet?

Wagsy: Oooh! What are you implying?! I'm not a thief.

Ozzie: You always say you want the credit cards.

At this point, the pillowhead picked me up by my foot and kept asking me where I hid Harriet's wallet. I tried to tell him I didn't know where it was and he didn't believe me. Finally, my bunny, George, told Ozzie that torture isn't a reliable means of extracting information. I like George, he's furry and I think he used to be in the CIA. Or maybe he still is. He won't comment on it, so it must be true. Anyways, Ozzie put me down and apologized. Boy was he embarrassed when the wallet was found at the gym. I would never go to the gym.

What a pillowhead.