Diskuverys

Yesterday's scores:

• Gills: no
• Simpsons: yes
• Tesco: yes, for harf a cow. Mummy is low-carbin agen.
  
• Nose Hugs Surprizisity Score: 9.5 (from Daddy, cos he sed he herd my beads russlin on my way, wich I think is jus bead-person prejudiss, to be onnist) /10
• Day Score: 7.63982/10

HULLO NOT-A-BEARS!

Hey I've bin bizzy, an bin carfterin Mummy agen, wich is wy I dident hav time to blog- an then today I notist that SHEEZ bin updaytin HER blog, so I thort, well, sod this!!! That just aint rite, laydy. So! Heer's a kwik peek at wat I've bin doin laytely (wen I wassent mayking her Laydyship's tea an runnin a Bear Massardge serviss up an down her showlders.)

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This is the day we Bears discuvered speshol biskits an BEAR SIZE doh-nuts wer hiding owt in a fancy tin in the kitchen. I thort it waz empty. Yewzly is. But wun day, wile sornterin parst, I thort I'd just hav a chek inside an mayke shor.....just as well I did! Scrum!

My luvly-jubbly new jumper from Mrs Nesbitt is very handy for smugglin biskits, wich yu will see heer if yu look closely an ar not foold by my look ov compleet an utter innosense:

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THIS is the day wen I did a kwik spyin misshun in between Mummy's naps.
I diskuverd wy the bloke nex dor is so miserabol so mutch ov the time.
He apparently ownly haz enuff PANTS to chaynge them evry 4 days, az demonstraytid by the sok-to-pant rayshio on his washin line, heer:I ov corse hav nothin agenst warin pants for 4 days. I think it shoze grayte appreeshyayshun for the full extent ov PANT POTENSHUL. It is eezily dun:

day 1: normal pant warin
day 2: bak-to-frunt pant warin
day 3: rite-way-rownd inside-owt pant warin
day 4: inside-owt bak-to-frunt pant warin

Yu see? It is eesily acheevabol an kwite all rite to do (so long as yu don't eet curry for the 4 days in kwestchun). No! I'm not beraytin him for this at all! I'm jus sayin, if he HAZ to do this, then he oviossly duzzent hav enuff pants for a dam good frolick, an that is enuff to mayke enywun miserabol.

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This is the day wen ANUTHER present arrived for Dilly. Julie sent her this, amung uther things, but cos it waz rapt in BLOO AN BROWN, she sed that I probly needid to open it as if it wer for her it wud be, oh, maybe PINK AN GREEN. Yu think?

But eevn tho the culler ov the rappin sed "BEAR!" an the insides sed "CHOKLIT, WICH BEARS REELLY REELLY LIKE!" she sed it waz oviusly HERS arfter all cos sed choklit waz" Dino-Wagon" shaypet.

YU SEE WAT I HAV TO PUT UP WIV AROWND HEER?
YU SEE?

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But yesterday me an LBBBJ fownd a BEAR SIZE pot ov appol an ginger jam: -so we hav claymd this an tayken it into custerdy.
Com to think ov it, sumthin custerdy wud go very well wiv appol an ginger jam. A nice steamd puddin, maybe. Or a cayke. Well, enyway, we shall be keepin this asit waz oviossly ment for us. An Mummy is on anuther cow diet. So it will help her.

-yu see that?
Yu see?
Eevn arfter so mutch neglekt, I am still a very helpful Bear.

Bye fer now!

Roofin an eetin.

Yesterday's scores:

• Gills: yes, we playd Bradford (Reel nayme, BAD CHEETIN SCUMford) hoo cheetid, so we lost. Poo.
  
• Simpsons: yes
• Tesco: yes, breefly, I walkt to the littol wun wiv Mummy. Daddy cuddent come coz heez hert his bak an wen he walks it looks like heez pood his pants.
  
• Nose Hugs Surprizisity Score: 8/10
• Weekend Score: 7.6383792/10

HULLO NOT-A-BEARS!

It's bin a bizzy weekend heer at Bob Towers. We had to get a man in to fix the roof!!

Thare had bin a week spot in the gutterin, wich, it terns owt, dident like snow at all, an speshly dident like it wen it thord. So all the warter pored down onto the extenshun at the bak ov the howse- or rarther, THROO the extenshun roof, throo the seelin, an onto the armchair below. Mummy ballanst bukkets on it larst week. An it's left a narsty grayvy stayne on the seelin. Looks like Chuck's bin doin projectile vomittin. Upwards. (Note to Chuck's famly: did yu kno he did that? projectile vomittin? Heez kwite good at it, akchewly. Pity it's not rekognized as a skill. Leest not this side ov the Atlantik; is it over thare?)

It waz kwite funny wen the man ferst brort his ladder rownd the bak ov the howse- as soon as he put it up, a robin cayme an sat on it, so he cuddent clime up strayte away, we waytid till the robin had had a good look arownd from his new perch, then flew away. He was well cheeky. No wonder Daddy calls them Bob-robins.

Arfter weed had the roofin dun, Mummy mayde evrywun tea, an we Bears had a snakeroo:

This is wun ov my fayvrit breds. It's calld a Tiger Loaf, cos it haz sort ov tigerry stripes:

This bred haz milk in it so it's perfik for growin Bears. This duzzent inclood Grayum or Chuck or Dilly, but jus try keepin enywun away wen thare's ginger jam arownd!

Bye fer now!