Myspace - what is it good for?

So we found the missing Myspace page. We stared at it. We wondered at its ugliness. We prodded it a few times. We tried to decide what it was for. There was a rather cute lemur. And I'm not as popular as Lily Allen. Yet. Although I do look even cuter in a ball gown. We've looked for a photo but can only find the butch ones. Me looking handsome - but butch. Stick me in pink marabou and tulle and I could out cute a whole barrel full of Elmos.

Dance, chickens, dance

Chickens are always funny, and tasty, apparently. But Savage Chickens are very, very funny. Maybe not so tasty. Today the Savage Chickens are 2 - Hurrah and Happy Birthday!

Maudlin, with moonlight

Bit gloomy today. She's a bit sad too. She says she wishes she was me. She wants to stay in bed all day while I go out to work, pay bills and hassle people to get things done. And then she gave me a big hug. But her copy of Tove Jansson's "Winter Book" has arrived today so she not doing anything tonight - no ironing, no bills, no swearing at Microsoft error messages (there was a lot of that yesterday) - just snuggling up with the book, some comfort food and her best bear. The best bear - that would be me. I hope.

She's added the moon phase thing for me, which is nice. I like looking out at the moon. Can't see many stars because of the orange fizzy sky over my city. I think I'd like to be the first bear on the moon. As long as I could come back again. Because it probably would get a bit dull.

LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME!

This week I have mostly been being ignored. When she hasn't been out there, allegedly working, going to youghurt classes* and stuff, she has neglected me for samorost1 and samorost2. Apparently spending time with your best bear isn't as much fun as trying to get virtual manatees to fart into a balloon. sniff. She's going to have to try and find my myspace page to make up. She created it one night after she'd been to the pub. And then she lost it. I could be as popular as Lily Allen and I wouldn't know it. It's not fair. I wonder if I'd be happier if I was Mariella Frostrop's bear.

*She claims this is exercise. It seems to involve flopping about on the floor and breathing. She already seems quite good at both things.

rain soaked and wrong

She comes wandering in all soggy. She's been to the pub. When she said she was going to drown her sorrows I didn't think she meant it literally. He was unsuitable. I can't say why because she'll squidge me till my eyes pop out but, as predicted, Bear knew best. Of course I'd never send naughty pictures of myself to a woman that I had just met. Which she might accidentally open while at work. Oops.

Quick. Look! Pandas! Really, really cute pandas Lots of them.

Thing I think I heard on the radio today

"Lawyers are like fat cats waiting to be squeezed"

unsuitable boy

he is. and she knows it.

missing

Window box squirrel. We weren't exactly friends but I'm missing him.

He hasn't been about for a while. It was my secret for at first. She goes out to do whatever it is that she does - buying shoes and chasing unsuitable men I think - and I sit here - doing big thinking - "is there a god?", "if I think, am I?", "what are Oasis for?". The window boxes are a bit dull. But there he was - sitting on her lettuces. He did make a bit of a mess. She set up Colditz for salad plants - green netting, barbed wire, gun turrets and little windmills. I liked his little wiggly ears and his come-hither fluffy tail. She bought a book about outwitting squirrels. He was too wily.

But no sign of him these days.