Sheez snotty agen!

Yesterday's scores:

• Gills: no
• Simpsons: yes
• Tesco: yes, chiken soop for Mummy
  
• Nose Hugs Surprizisity Score: too bizzy /10
• Day Score: 6.83621/10

HULLO NOT-A-BEARS!

I havent fergotten abowt the fotoes I promist but I hav bee bizzy carfterin Mummy agen as she is all snotty agen an haz a infekshun in her chest wich is maykin her coff up horrobol green stuff, an this shud jus proov to Dilly that green is a narsty thing.

She went to the nerse wen it was just a bad throat, an the nerse sed "It's jus hay feever, go home!" so she cayme home an now she issent well. Dilly sez the nerse knew nuthin, an that this is oviuss cos she dident ware a nerse's hat. She sez that REEL nerses allways ware a hat.

Mummy sez she feels like she haz been hit by a truk! I've been run over befor, as yu kno, an wen it happend my bum berst an lots ov my beads spilld owt onto the road. I had to go abowt wiv sayfety pins in my bot till they fownd sum uther beads for a transplant for me. The pins wer well itchy.

Well, I had a look but her bottom, I hav to say, duzzent look eny smaller than it did a week ago, an I carnt see eny pins, so I don't think she haz reelly been hit by a truk at all.

I hav given her self-ishooing priviledges over the tishoo box as, kwite frankly, I carnt keep up wiv her demarnds. Meenwile Grayum seems to hav come down wiv the bug, so we hav seperaytid him from the uther Bears. Mummy Windowsill Bear is carftering him. I think he is jus playin on it, to be onnist. But don't tell him I sed that.

I hope the green stuff goze away soon then Mummy can help me load up all my intrestin fotoes. I hav a nice wun ov a pig's bottom that I wantid to sho yu. He haz a reelly curly tayle an is kwite hairy.

Bye fer now!

Jumpin

Yesterday's scores:

• Gills: yes, an me an Daddy went to watch- waheyyy! Gills wun 2-nil agenst Chester (full nayme, Chester Chester stik it up yer vest yer) so thanks to evrywun hoo wor their lukky bloo pants for us!!! OH! OH! An I must tell yu- I sor 2 uther Bears at the football, too! HEHEHE!
  
• Simpsons: no
• Tesco: no
• Nose Hugs Surprizisity Score: ooops, fergot, too bizzy.. /10
• Day Score: 7.83261/10

HULLO NOT-A-BEARS!

Daddy flew off to Ireland this mornin, to vizit Granny-Ireland an Grandad-Poppa.

Mummy cuddent go cos she haz no foto-ID. Yu need foto-ID to get on the playne to Ireland from heer. Mummy duzzent hav a drivin lysence yet an her passport went owt ov dayte, so she cuddent go. I did offer to go along an identify her, an poynt at her an say "DIS IS MY MUMMY!" but aparrently that wuddent be enuff.

To be onnist, I tayke offence at that. It meens they ar dowtin my werd as a Bear. Huh!

I wuddent ever go to Ireland wivowt Mummy, ov corse: Daddy haz a menny an varreed record ov parental soopervizion:

• throwin me owt ov bed an then sayin that I jumpt
  
• hurlin me towards the fireplace an then sayin that I jumpt
• droppin me in a muddy puddol in a carpark an then sayin that I jumpt
• droppin me as he got owt ov the car, leevin me in the roade so that I got run over, an then sayin that I jumpt
• droppin his spagetti boolonayze on me an then sayin that I jumpt

Yu may hav notist a theem formin heer, an to this I wud just like to add a small note, wich I hope Daddy piks up at sum poynt:

DADDY! I OWNLY JUMP FOR 2 THINGS!!!

1. Thunder
2. Darnsin

I hope this cleers this up. I shall not say enything further. I shall not poynt the furry digit. I shall meerly leev it to yor own intellygent conkloozions. Ahem.

My littol sister is allreddy up to no good. I knew I say, I say I jus KNEW she wud start to play up as soon as Daddy waz away.

Enway......... I shall rize abuv it. (But NOT JUMP.)

Bye fer now!

Mulligan an Mummy, an their travels...

Gillingham ar playin tonite, peeps, so on wiv yer bloo pants!

HULLO NOT-A-BEARS!

Good Lor! I havent blogged in neerly a week! How did that happen? Sorry bowt that. I shall try to offer sum excewsis:

(1) Ferst reezon fer my absense is that I hav Been Spendin Sum Time Wiv Mulligan....

Daddy is off to Ireland tomorro an Mulligan is goin wiv him. Mulli is goin to retire at Granny Ireland's howse, cos he likes golf an so duzz she. Heez hopin to get a few rownds in. Heez also hopin fer soda bred an hunny. So enyway. Heez goin along to chek owt her golf bag an see if it haz a Small Bear compartment. (That's a compartment for Small Bears, by the way. Not a small compartment for Bears. It issent the sayme thing.)

I've been tellin Mulligan all abowt Ireland, like the time I got kidnapt an run-over. This is reelly wy I don't go enymor. (Leest, not less Mummy is comin too, as she issent the wun hoo drops in roades an puddels an stuff like that, or herls me across rooms at grayte speed, all ov wich abewse Daddy flatly denys, ov corse. He sez I jumpt. Wich I did not.) Wayin it all up, Mulligan probly thinks heel be better off there, com to think ov it. An if the nephews start moovin in herds agen, he can jus go off to the golf corse. An it also meens it gets him away from Daddy's faymussly extrordineryly toxik sox (they disterb all rodents in a 30 mile raydius).

(2) The other reezon for my absense is that Mummy haz been Tryin To Doo Mor. This is her Plan B. Plan A waz Tryin To Eet Less. But she fownd this all but impossibol, maynely cos eetin is her best hobby, arfter sleepin. So she is now doin lots ov walkin insted, an this meens walkin away from the big button on the compewter that I need help pushin in befor I can blog.

She has walkt miles over the larst week. Sheez walkin into town nowadays insted ov goin on the bus. This is abowt 3 miles. Then she walks all arownd town and even in the big shops too- this is cos there is a notiss on the eskalayters sayin that "Small Children Must Be carried" an she duzzent hav eny, so she haz to tayke the stairs insted.

At leest I occayzunelly get sumthing owt ov theez hikes. Yesterday I got this cunning Ginger Biskit, disgized as a Bear:

Wa-heyyy! He eevn haz PANTS!!!

...On the bak it sez he is a cool ted!

He eevn haz a choklit belly-button! HAHAHA!

Mmm nyumnyum nyummm.... kwite nibberly...

Hey! Wat the? I put it down fer 2 mitis an the torso's neerly gon! I bet Daddy haz sumthing to do wiv this!

Hehehee.... leest they left me the PANTS! Hahahaa...I feel an impreshun comin on...!

Ta-darrr! HAHAHA! Izit me or izit Littol Bayby Bear Bob Junior???

Ooops! LBBBJ dident like that! HAHA!

Ah.... jus the icing pants left, now! (Hey! The ownly time yu want ice-in-yer-pants!)

(sigh...) Yeah, I think I'll sayve this bit fer a wile!

********

Votes

Thank yu all fer voting in my poll abowt wat I shud plarnt this yeer! The poll is still up there on the rite hand side ov this blog, so if yu havent votid, or if yu want to chaynge yer vote, or vote agen, pleez do! It will be up an runnin till the middol ov March, an I'll plarnt watever yu deside at the end ov March. Dilly sez she wants to plarnt sumthing pink an eevn if nowun votes for that she still will plarnt sumthing pink an she sed "Nerrr". Wat can I say? Dragons don't like rools.

Bye fer now!

*****update*****update*****update******update*****

Footboll waz canseld becoz it waz too foggy! Hey ho! So if yor bloo pants feel uncumfterbol yu can tayke them off! Wen yu do, wy not spin them arownd abuv yer hed on wun finger till they go whizzin off across the room? It's grayte fun! Speshly wen they land on yor sister's hed! Wa-hey!

Fire hazerds an holidays

Yesterday's scores:

• Gills: no
• Simpsons: yes
• Tesco: yes, kwik vizit wiv Daddy, cos Mummy's not well, so we got her sum ginger ale. Yum!
• Nose Hugs Surprizisity Score: 10 wa-heyy!/10
• Day Score: 7.85219/10

HULLO NOT-A-BEARS!

Mummy's not too well at the mo', so I've been carfterin her wiv hed hugs an cups ov tea, an Dilly's been jus sort ov hangin abowt in her Nerse's hat, breevin fire now an then to keep her warm.

Mummy is warin thik clothes, not so much cos ov bein cold, mor cos ov the daynger ov Dilly breevin fire rownd her. So far weev lost the TV gide, a bank staytment, a postcard, three vershons ov a shoppin list an a bar ov choklit, the latter now a molten lump on the arm ov a chair. I hav been told to poynt owt that "she meens well". Yes, well, she singes well, too.

Meenwile, Daddy iz plottin an escaype to Ireland next week an weev all got to deside today wether or not weer goin too. Mummy sed she wud like to go on the plane, an get her ears to pop open, but she duzzent reelly want to go to Ireland. I'm not goin, cos wenever I go I get run over or kidnapt. Grayum sez he duzzent want to go if I'm not goin. So that jus leeves Dilly, an no wun wants to interrupt her at the moment in cayse they looz their eyebrows.

Bye fer now!

Nail Biting

Yesterday's scores:

• Gills: no
• Simpsons: yes, just. We missed half of it. Rats.
• Tesco: No. An Mummy went to Sainsburys. Onnistly. She duzzent know wat the 'loyalty' in 'loyalty card' means. No one duzz loyal like a Bear.
• Nose Hugs Surprizisity Score: far too bizzy/10
• Day Score: 6/10

HULLO NOT-A-BEARS!

Oh boy. Thank Gawd yestaday is over. That was manic. Enyway. Good feedback so far on the new template. Keep the feedback coming, good or bad. Cos I've stared at this screen so long I'm starting to know wat Dilly's huge, bulbous staring eyes must feel like. And I can't tell whether the blog looks gud this way or not.

ENyWAY...

I had a query from Donna, in Missourri (which is wun of those towns yu wuddent want to have to pronounce arfter 9 pints in the Bloos Bar arfter a match). She asks who trims my nails. Onnistly, she duzz. Yu see, sum people out there really care bowt me. Not like sum people, hoo get me run over or kidnapped. Not that I'm bitter....

Well, Donna, the arnswer is that nobody duzz. I do it myself. I enjoy a good gnaw, and it keeps my teeth in good nick, too. Here's an actshon shot:

photo: Mmmmmmm nummnmn nmmnmm um

Daddy eats his nails too. Mummy used to eat hers but stopped a cuppol of years ago. Nowadays hers can get so long they annoy her, so she has to trim them with nailclippers. Imagine that! Akchewally using nailclippers! Wow. I really look up to Mummy. Enyway. If Daddy is arownd wen she duzz it, he nicks the clippings an eats them, too, as well as his own, wich never amownt to much, as they're never owt of his mouth fer very long. Mum thinks he's weird. But he says it's just Luvbug DNA. Hey ho!

Hope this puts yor mind to rest. May I arsk, why yu arsk?

Bye fer now!

Danger! Ireland ahead....

Yesterday's scores:

• Gills: no
• Simpsons: yes
• Tesco: no
• Nose Hugs Surprizisity Score: 10/10
• Day Score: 7/10

HULLO NOT-A-BEARS!

Today I want to tell yu about why I don't like going to Ireland anymore, even wen Daddy goes there, to see his familee.

1) Run Over

On my ferst visit to Ireland we went to visit my Unkol Brian's shop on a hill called Ennistynen. Grand-dad Poppa cuddent park so we just jumpt out the car and went into the shop. Well, when I say WE went into the shop, I mean everybody ELSE went into the shop, I just lay in the road being confewsed as Daddy had just dropped me.

I got up an ran about looking for the shop I was meant to go in, calling for my childline-nominee parrents, and then it went all dark. Wen I cayme to, I was lying in a puddle of white beads. Then I realised that they were coming out of my bum. Well, I had no idea that my bum beads were white an so I faynted. It was sum time layter wen Grand-dad Poppa's car cayme bak up the hill and Daddy jumpt out and cayme and got me. Mummy was very upset wiv him, and they spent a whole day in Limerick looking for beads to put back in my bum.

Until they found sum, I couldn't be operaytid on. SO insted I had to wear safety pins in my arse which, as well as being just a tad undignified fer a person of noble Bearidge, itched like a camel's armpit.

2) Kidnapped

Yes, afrayde so. On my second visit, a posse of Daddy's nephews jumpt on me at Granny Ireland's house while my parrents were distractid, again being less than vigilant in their Bear-protekshon dewties. Led by a small wun hoo goes by the nayme of "Owen" and the letters ov "Eoghan", I was grabbed, wrestled to the floor ov the Dining room and held prisoner while the yung hoodlams had this note delivered to Mummy:

Then Daddy traced the writing to Eoghan and his evil co-conspirator Patrick, and rather than pay the extortionate ransom of one cent (am I the only wun that finds that offensiv?) tickled them to the carpet until wun ov them squealed where he'd hidden me.

This photo is ov Eoghan, the organizer ov the crime. I hav had to black out his eyes fer legol reasons, as I havent got round to sueing him yet.

Anyway, it always amuses me, every year, wen Daddy books to go to Ireland and terns an asks me, "Are you coming wiv me, Bob?"

HHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HAAAA

I can only think he has me inshored for a lot, an fer wunce I don't mean choklit peanuts.

Huh!

Bye fer now!