Monday, June 27, 2005

Vacation Schedule

Um ... hello. I'm writing to let you know that we bears might not be blogging much over the next four weeks. Ozzie and Harriet are going on vacation. You would think this would give us a lot of free time that we could use for blogging, but it never seems to work out that way. Taking care of Ozzie and Harriet is very time consuming and the bears use vacation to catch up on chores and ... well ... nap.

Sitting with my bunny

I can now nap like an old man. I've heard tales of older, distinguished professors who are so revered that they can nap in the middle of talks. At first I thought people respected the professors BECAUSE they could fall sleep sitting up during a talk. Then I heard Ozzie talking about voting behavior and realized that falling asleep was easy -- staying awake was hard. So the right to nap must be a reward for other forms of good service, like being fluffy or friendly. Oooh, I'd definitely say that allowing a person to nap during a talk is an excellent way to show respect.

Um ... but ... what was might point again? Ooh! Yeah, napping like an old professor. You might notice in the picture up above that the bears now are the proud owners of a chair. Ozzie went to a blue grass festival, saw a chair the perfect size for a Wagsy and plopped down the money to buy the chair. I think I might have prefered cable, but it is the thought that counts. And what a sweet thought it is -- he loves me! I sometime doubt it, but look at the heart in the back of the chair. (whisper) Um ... what's that? (whisper, whisper) Ooh. I've just been informed that there were only two types of chairs available: hearts and angels. Ozzie just picked the one that he thought was least tacky. Um ... I guess that is okay. He did buy me the least tacky chair. Yeah, it is still a nice gesture. Um ... what was might point again? (whisper) Ooh, yeah, now that I have a chair, I can fall asleep in it while other people are talking. What a nice way to spend vacation.

We'll miss Harriet very much while she is on vacation. But to be honest, the bears could use a little time all to ourselves. We need to discuss new strategies for maintaining our plumpness and furriness. We need to devise clever schemes to convince Ozzie to buy us cable. And we need to catch up on our sleep. Four weeks is a very long time, though, and we'll be happy when she returns.

In the mean time, I'll sit here with my bunny.

Waiting for the return

Saturday, June 25, 2005

Teaching the fine art of typing

Hi there. Goofball here. I decided that before we send off the new trainees, we should teach them how to write. And I don't mean basic literacy either. I mean how to write. Those cats writing the crawl on the bottom of CNN Headline News or MSNBC are literate and can type, but there isn't much artistry there. I suppose the crawl could be interesting if you are into dada-esque minimalism or some other funky stuff, but I am all about letting words express your personality. Let me break it down for you a couple of ways:

First, you have to find your voice. Words can be put together a lot of different ways, so why not put them together in a way that expresses the core of you-ness? Try not to sound like you are reading from a telephone book or a statistics textbook. Instead of saying, "I went to the store to buy some butter and some cheese," why not jazz it up a little bit and say something like, "I hopped down to the mart to pick up some butter and cheese." See? It don't take much. Just a dib there and a dab there makes ya seem like a more interesting bear.

And don't let anyone put words in your mouth either. A lot of people pick up a bear and have him say all types of screwed up stuff. Ya gotta be true to yourself and assert yourself. If you don't feel like attending a tea party, say, "Hell no, I would NOT like to attend your tea party!" Well, I suppose you could be more polite about it. Ain't nothing wrong with being polite. And I've got nothing against tea parties either. I'm just talkin' about the principle of the matter.

And that doesn't mean that you can't liberally borrow from other people. There is a reason why phrases and authors are famous afterall.

"It was the best of naps, it was the worst of naps."

That may not be the most original set of words composed, but it does capture certain afternoons. Or, how about,

"Ask not for whom the alarm sounds; it sounds for thee."

See? By borrowing from Hemingway, I am stealing cool sentence construction, word choice, AND I'm adding gravity to my point. Everyone knows he's writing about death, but I'm writing about waking up. I'm subverting his words to do my bidding.

Anywho, the point is, you gotta find your own voice.

Second, you have to write about something. Once upon a time, things had to be about something. Nowadays they even create entire sitcoms about nothing. What do you, being the bear typing the message, want to convey to your audience? It doesn't have to be heavy. Sometimes, I want to express my outrage at the treatment of black bears in national parks. Other times, I just want people to realize how cute and clever I am. You should have a point and make it. On that note, I'll move onto ...

Third, you have to know what to write. I don't mean the specific words, because even loquacious fellows like myself suffer from writer's block from time to time. What I'm talking about is the form. Are you gonna write a letter? For instance,

Dear President Bush,

I am writing to inquire about a potential opening in your administration. With all the obscure national celebrations like National Icecream Day or National Florist History Month and the host of equally obscure laureates you keep around, I figured there has to be a national teddy bear laureate. I think I would be an excellent candidate for the post on account of my natural charm, quick wit, striking good looks, cuddling ability, and all around American Bearness. Please find my resume and references attached.

Cordially,

Goofball Bear

PS I understand there have been some budget cutbacks, so I will forego any stipend that may accompany the position of national teddy bear laureate. I can also fill the position of national poet laureate, allowing you to claim that you have streamlined the bureaucracy and cut down on government waste. Let me know.

Or maybe you were going to write a poem, such as ...

Pi is of a curious ilk
One part oink
and the other silk.

There are a whole host of things you can write. Reviews, essays, review essays, you name it.

But the most important thing to write are letters, because we're gonna miss you guys when you're off at your new homes and we'll wanna hear how you're doing. Bears aren't too good at visiting each other, so we have to rely upon correspondence (and sometimes the telephone). If you ever forget our email address, you can just click on the "Email Us" link to the left.

Ah, look at me, gettin' all misty eyed with the new bears. Shucks. I'm okay with it. Ain't nothin' wrong with a bear lettin' his feelings show. This is a new millenium, baby. It's all about knowing how ya feel.

Besides, I gotta teach you how to write letters in order to complain about never hearing from y'all

Typing Teacher

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Teddy Bear Dreams

Um ... hello. Gregor Samsa may have awoke from unsettling dreams, but today Wagsy awoke from wonderous dreams (Pudgie helped me with that reference). Ooh! It was so nice. And the cause of my happy dream, our new silk sheets. They are very comfy. I know they arrived a while ago, but I only got around to blogging about them now. Um ... maybe it is because they are so comfy that is hard to think about blogging. Um ... or maybe it is because we've been busy training Bear and Pi. Or, perhaps we've just been bad about posting regularly. Anyway, here is a photo of Goofball and I enjoying the silk sheets for the first time.

Luxuriating on the new silk sheets

Oooh, they are so soft and silky. Between you and me, I think they are softer than Goofball's behind and that is pretty soft. They are probably even softer than the new bears and those all new fibers are hard to beat. But ... um ... there is one ... um ... problem. I think the sheets are TOO smooth. After sleeping on the sheets for several nights, we discovered that the bears will slip off the bed! Oooh! When Goofball pounces, he slips off the side. When Moose zips, he zips into the great unknown. If Harriet rolls over, the bears roll off. It is very problematic and troubling. I've dreamed of silk sheets for years and ... um ... it is a little disappointing.

Family gathering on the silk sheets

So we held a conference on the new sheets to discuss the problem. Everyone thought the sheets were very comfy and that Goofball looked very cute against their ivory backdrop. But as the bears began to slide off the bed, everyone agreed there was a problem. It is hard to hold a conference when the participants are prone to falling onto the floor.

Gladstone thought we should return the sheets and get our money back.

Moose thought we should keep the sheets, put them on the floor, and use them as a Slip-N-Slide (at least that is how we interpreting his "Moose!" and sliding around. It is sometimes hard to know what Moose is saying. Um ... I mean he is obviously saying "Moose!" but the exact meaning is not always clear. Did he say "moose", "MOO-se", or "moo-SE!"? The intonation can be subtle -- at least for those with stuffin' for brains.).

Amelia thought the sheets were very nice and we shouldn't be mean about them.

Then ... um ... the following exchange took place, a conversation that will change the course of my furry life.

Buffy: Like, before we do anything, I need to get in a photoshoot on these sheets. Like every serious model has at least one shoot on silk sheets: Madonna; Marilyn Monroe; that blond girl from American Beauty; and I'm sure there are like a lot of others. And like after I get paid, we can use that money to buy 1,000 thread count cotton sheets.

Goofball: Wait a minute. Wait one thousand cotton-countin' minutes. You mean there is such a thing as 1,000 thread count sheets.

Buffy: Totally. Like just last week in US Weekly, a star was commenting on how once you enjoy 1,000 threadcount sheets, there is like no going back. Since they are like cotton and stuff, they would be soft, but not slippery.

Goofball: Then why did we spend the bear money on silk sheets? Why do we have these freakish friction free sheets? I'm lookin' at you dog.

Wagsy: Um ... I ... um ... I didn't know 1,000 thread count sheets existed. Um ... Wow ... WOW! ... um ... wow. They sound veRRRy nice. I thought silk was as soft as you could go.

Goofball: Apparently not. How did this debacle happen? I demand accountability!

Moose: Moose!

Goofball: Why wasn't due diligence done? Isn't it your job to look into our investments ... Gladstone!

Moose: Moose!

Gladstone: Why I ... I beg your pardon, sir! I advised against the whole endeavour from the outset. I thought we should invest the money into Certificates of Deposit. They frivilous trifles are a waste of our hard earned money and I would never recommend the bears invest a significant portion of their portfolio on goods that will depreciate rather than appreciate. I resent the implication that --

Goofball: If I am not mistaken, you control the pursestrings. How did the gang who can't shoot straight, being us, get enough money to buy silk sheets if you didn't allow it? Hmmmm? Your silk smoking jacket would indicate a fondness for all things silken, would it not, Gladstone? Perhaps you allowed the money to be obtained and used on inferior sheets.

Gladstone: I beg your pardon, sir! I have never been so offended in my life. Why the mere implication --

Goofball: You should be beggin' my pardon, Stuffy. I'm accusin' you of breachin' your fiduciary duty!

Gladstone: Why ... I ... good heavens! I've worked myself into a bit of a lather. I can't even respond I am so torqued.

Goofball: Okay, okay, you've said enough, Stuffy. The question now is how we go about raising the money and procuring the new sheets? How are sales at our store going?

Wagsy: Um ... sales at our store haven't exactly been brisk. I don't know how long it will take to earn enough for 1,000 thread count sheets.

Goofball: Well, does anybody else have any ideas?

Buffy: Like I already said I could do some modeling. I could totally earn the green. America is just waiting for this aardvark.

Goofball: I suppose I could write a book of poetry. How could people not want to read gems like:

There once was a bear from The Bend
Whose seams were starting to rend
He gathered some thread
And waited on the bed
For his person to caretake and mend


Amelia: That poem was very nice, Gooball.

Goofball: Thanks, Amelia. You're a doll.

Gladstone: If I may interject, you could purchase the sheets using the same source for funding that you used for the original sheets.

Wagsy: Um ... what's that? We forgot.

Gladstone: Ozzie. Ozzie purchased these silk sheets.

Wagsy: Yeah, yeah. He's right. Gladstone's right. Ozzie purchased them for us. He might pretend to be grumpy and hate us, but deep down, he likes us.

Goofball: I'm sorry that I impugned your integrity, Stuffy.

Gladstone: Hmmphh.


Um ... and with our newfound source of funding, we started to plan what we wanted to spend Ozzie's money on. The first thing was satelite TV. Or cable. We didn't much care. Then someone pointed out that we needed a better TV to enjoy the cable. And I don't know who came up with the idea, but someone pointed out that if we got a flatscreen TV and had it afixed to the ceiling above the bed, the bears could lie on 1,000 thread count sheets in bed watching satelite TV in high definition. Oooh. Such a beautiful thought. At this point Gladstone started sputtering about wasting money, but he was so upset he kept falling off the bed. You know, it is pretty easy to ignore objections when the person objecting keeps falling on the floor. Maybe that is why Ozzie ignores our demands for cable.

About then the final vision came to fruitition. Um ... it is kind of complicated, but I hope you can follow the furry logic. A flatscreen TV on the ceiling is pretty heavy and it might fall on the people watching it. That would be bad. But if you piled enough bears on the bed, they would cushion the people from the falling flat screen TV. But ... ooh ... you'd need a LOT of bears on the bed, maybe even ... um ... all of them. So we'd need a larger bed.

And that is the reason I went to sleep dreaming of lying on a king sized bed wrapped in 1,000 thread count sheets with ALL of the bears and watching a ceiling mounted flat screen TV receiving digital satelite images. Um ... just the thought of it makes me happy.

But ... um ... that doesn't mean we won't bug Ozzie for it.

Um ... what do we want?!

A king sized bed wrapped in 1,000 thread count sheets with ALL of the bears and watching a ceiling mounted flat screen TV receiving digital satelite images!

Um ... when do we want it?!

Now!


Um ... doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, does it? We'll have to work on it. But now we have a vision of the future worth cuddling for (not that we wouldn't cuddle anyway).

Monday, June 13, 2005

Aardvark Photography

Like, so I watched two movies in a row that made me want to ralph. Ocean's Twelve should have been impossible to mess up. You just dress up Brad, George, and Andy and let them wander through fashionable locales. Pooh's Heffalump Movie is only a little harder, but totally failed because the writers assumed most children in America have been eating lead paint chips for breakfast. Like, I'm not completely convinced that the writers themselves didn't grow up eating Frosted Lead Flakes. Pathetic. I'm a pretty low key aardvark, but this type of incompetence is impossible to ignore.

So I got to thinking, if I am going to succeed in show business, I totally have to do everything for myself and not rely on anyone. I mean, I think my photographer is great, but what if he gets sick or hit by a blimp or something equally tragic. I'd be bummed, but I'd also be stuck without a photographer. The solution? Buffy goes all Fed on photographer (for those not in the know, that means I'm the photographer of last resort ... Pudgie has been dropping the knowledge at bear seminars).

Like I've mastered modeling, I've designed my own lines, and I've discovered and trained new talent. Like photography is one of the only skills that I need to master before I totally ready to take New York City by storm.

So I burrowed (we aardvarks excel at burrowing) through the closet and found an old camera. As luck would have it, there was still film in it. It wasn't much of a camera, but like I'm just starting out and this is for practice, right? When I am shooting for Calvin Klein or Ralph Lauren, then I'll have a totally wicked kitted out camera that costs more than most people's cars.

So I tried to convince my friend Amelia to model for me. I picked Amelia because: a) she's gorgeous; b) she's my girl -- I'd do anything for her and vice-versa (and we've shared more than a little vice ... chocolate covered ants trip us up every time); c) she hasn't really appeared on the blog yet and that is a MASSIVE oversight cuz she has lot of totally interesting things to say. But it was a little harder to convince her to help me out.

Amelia was all like, "I don't know, Buffy."

And I was all like, "Well, I know. You'd be hot."

And Amelia was like, "Who would want to look at me?"

And I was totally like, "Girlfriend, you are totally gorgeous."

And she was all like, "I don't know. I'm pretty shy."

And I was like, "Amelia, you're a beautiful armadillo and we just need to get you out of your shell."

And Amelia was like, "You mean there is something wrong with my shell?"

And I was like, "Whoa, no. Totally no. Your shell is hot. I only mean you need to grab the spotlight more. Let the world see you in all your beauty."

I felt totally bad after accidentally insulting Amelia, so we had a long heart-to-heart. I won't relate it here because it was totally private and intense. But at the end of it, Amelia agreed to help out if we covered up her shell. I figured that would give me a chance to show off my newest shirts.

Aardvark Photography (Amelia)

So, ladies and gentlemen, here's the hottest armadillo on the web, Amelia. You should notice the craftsmanship that went into making this picture a masterpiece. Amelia is looking a little nervous. Why is that cute armadillo looking nervous? Well look at the context. She's in front of a symbol of modern technology -- a totally awesome flatscreen computer monitor. Teddy bears are a little leery of being supplants by technology. And what is behind the flat screen? A sewing machine. So the flatscreen has stolen the stage from older technologies like the sewing machine. And sewing machines are helpful to teddy bears not competition. So that is why Amelia is looking apprehensive. Like in the future, when my pictures appear in magazines, I won't have to explain them to the audience. People will just like appreciate them and know that I am way smart.

Aardvark Photography 2 (Amelia and my shirt)

This second picture is mostly an advertisement for my line of clothing. I'm not totally satisfied with it. The picture of me is supposed to leap out of the biege and white background because it is so colorful (like me *giggle*), but it didn't quite work. I think part of the reason is that my nose keeps getting in the way of the pictures. At first I thought it would be a big problem, but then I figured that I could like edit it out or something. But it like screwed up the focus or something. I tried to make the grainy image work for me. It has a kinda grungy urban feel to it, but a berber carpet doesn't exactly scream asphalt jungle.

There is only so much an aardvark can do. But I think it was a good first effort.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

A Heffalump Sized Harrumph

Last night, we sat down as a family to watch Pooh's Heffalump Movie. Normally, I do not engage in such trifles. Classic works of literature and music invariably prove to be more entertaining than "popular culture" (e.g., such as an episode of Dharma and Greg or the latest iteration of Police Academy). However, in a moment of weakness the Heffalump Movie intrigued me. The original story was an inventive application of logic in information deprived settings, resulting in a charming and understated comedy. Exhibiting a bit of teddy bear bravado, Pooh and Piglet earnestly set a hair-brained trap for a creature that both bragged about seeing even though neither have heard of the Heffalump before.

I was curious to see how the movie would handle the subject matter. The story is very short, even if one included the sequel where Pooh and Piglet fall into the Heffalump trap set long ago; how would it be stretched into a feature length movie? The whole point of the Heffalump is that it is a mythology crafted from braggadocio and fear; how would such a creature be handled in a visual medium?

The answer is poorly. The Heffalump physically exists. Evidence of the Heffalump confronts the characters, who apparently know a great deal about the Heffalump because they describe it in great detail. When the cast of characters go in search of the Heffalump, they naturally encounter the Heffalump. The whole point of the Heffalump is thereby lost. The only aspect of the original story maintained by Disney is the macho, xenophobic jingoism. However, the overarching theme of Pooh's Heffalump Movie is that you can grow up overnight if you try hard enough. That moral is as tired as it is moronic.

I wasn't the only one disappointed in the movie:

Wagsy: Um ... these bears aren't very bright. I know Pooh is "a bear of very little brain" in the books, but ... um ... the characters in the movie make Platy seem like a rocket scientist.

Platy: I like rockets.

Goofball: What did they do to my man Eeyore? In the story, he was a big ol' sour puss, but he was hip to the game. He knew what was up. Part of the reason he was so dour was because he was a smart cat surrounded by simpletons. In the movie, he's stoned and retarded. Why is he carrying all their crap into the woods? Rabbit said it was all useless. This movie is messed up.

Wagsy: Um ... I don't want to be mean, but can the DVD player edit out Piglet?

Goofball: Yo, I want to go Queen of Hearts on him and SUPPRESS THAT GUINEA PIG!

Buffy: Like this movie is totally lame. The characters are all freaks, excepting Roo. And he's kinda cute in that boy-toy type of way, but he's a little boring. The one person on the screen with any star power is the Heffalump. Oh, my god, Lumpy is a star in the making. He's hot.

Wagsy: Yeah, yeah. He's really cute. He's the only good thing about the movie.

Goofball: Why are they sendin' the heaviest person over the pit to save Roo? That has got to be the dumbest thing I've seen in a long time.

Wagsy: Dumber than Eeyore carrying a grandfather clock through the forest even though everyone agrees it is useless for catching Heffalumps?

Goofball: Okay, it's not THAT stupid. Why did you have to remind me of that?

Platy: How can a clock have a father?

Buffy: Forget about Eeyore. He's like a total yawn. What happened to Tigger? Like he was a young aardvark's super star in the books. He was charismatic and bouncy and totally looked someone you'd want to go clubbing with. Yeah, he couldn't climb trees, but why would you want to do that anyways? In the movie, he's like a total loser from start to finish.

Ozzie: Remind me again, why are we watching this movie?

Wagsy: Um ... because Harriet wanted to. I'm a little disappointed, to be honest. I was expecting more.

Goofball: I thought the movie put the "stun" back in "stunk." S-T-U-N-K. Stunk.

Buffy: Oh my god, this movie totally bummed me out. I feel unclean. I'll have to exfoliate or something tomorrow.

Wagsy: What did you think of the movie, Platy?

Platy: I thought it was confusing.


Pi then began to explain the movie to Platy. At that point, I became very concerned about the development of my young protege. At such an impressionable age, Pi might be seduced by the ease of popular culture. So I decided that swift action must be taken. Freud is fascinating, but books can also be fun and entertaining. It was now time for Bear and Pi to be exposed to age appropriate reading. Afterall, the children to whom Bear and Pi are assigned won't be ready for Plato until age 8 or 9 (and the original Greek will likely have to wait until age 12).

Reading Age Appropriate Books

So we sat down to read a book with funny and colorful pictures. Some of the text was rollicking and aimed at children. Other parts were wry and aimed at parents. In short, it was superior to the Heffalump Movie in every way.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Most Disappointing Moment of my Life

Like, I'm so totally bummed. Ocean's Eleven might not have been the defining movie of my generation, but Brad Pitt, George Clooney, and Andy Garcia all looked *GORGEOUS* in it. A movie's sins can totally be forgiven if the men look good enough in it. So I like knew that Ocean's Twelve received like completely horrid reviews, but I figured the guys would still be hot, right? Wrong! I mean right, but like you have to be on the screen to be hot. Andy Garcia is on the screen for like 2.57 seconds -- I timed it with keen aardvark super senses. Freddie Mac, Scott Caan, and most of the guys are on the screen for like ten seconds apiece. You need to ensemble to see how hot the ensemble is. And when the stars are on the screen, they are like sitting in a jail cell. If sitting in a jail cell were cool, I'd be one of those women who write to inmates and gets engaged via the US Postal Service. It's like two-thirds of the cast agreed to be in the movie if they could complete the filming in one day. Lame.

Not only did the script involve sitting in a jail cell for long periods, but the plot made even less sense than the first movie. I mean, I don't know even know where to get started ... and I ALWAYS know how to get it started. All I can say is that when the plot unnecessarily turns on a character looking like the actress who plays her, that is lamer than a hexaplegic ant. And when the surprise ending makes the convoluted schemes in the middle completely nonsensical, I like wonder why I even watched the movie. And the dialogue totally bit. It didn't even bite the big one.

Clooney: Do I look fifty?

Buffy: When you sit around unshaven and poorly dressed in a jail cell, yeah, you kinda do.


The only somewhat redeeming feature of the movie is Brad Pitt. He's on the screen a lot and he wears good looking suits. That like almost saved the movie for me. But even he is not totally glamorous. He is failing as a business man, he gets his cell phone stolen which totally jeopardizes the whole plot but then never does anything about it. He's kinda like a good looking lobotomized zombie in this movie. Ocean's 12 is not supposed to be a movie about mid-life crises, purpose in life, and lost love. And Brad unncessarily endangers the whole group by chasing after Katherine Zeta Jones. Like current events ruin that back story. I mean Jennifer Aniston AND Angelina Jolie AND Catherine Zeta Jones ... how many relationships does this guy need? I beginning to think that my aardvark school girl crush was misplaced. Of course, I was just gonna use Brad to advance my career, so I suppose it is irrelevant, but it would be nice if he wasn't such a schmoe. I mean if he is going to get back together with Jennifer, what is he doing still canoodling with Angelina? I suppose it means he would probably be willing to party with me and get me on the cover of US Weekly, but I don't know if it is worth it anymore. Too much baggage for this aardvark.