Hey. I can drag my own peanut.
Brought home a box. Had a cat in it. Must have been on short rations. First thing was to eat all the neighbors, but we get along just fine. Thursday is pizza and beer night, and we watch TV, Bengal T. and me.
I remain handy with tweezers but seldom say so, you know. Well — until next Thursday, that's all for now.
I haven't seen Professor Schmidt lately. I think she may be out running with the wolves. Or the ants got her.
Fuzzy Bob ate my monkey. Leastways he says he did. Someone did, even the monkey says so. Who am I to judge?
Ants are notoriously bad at keeping secrets. An ant told me that. It was supposed to be a secret, but now I know too. See?
Got fuzz stuck up my nose again. Looks like giraffe this time. Odd to be sure, since we haven't had one come through the house for at least a month.
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Me? Found another ransom note in my underwear drawer.
