Hewwo!

What ickUw forgot to teww you in hish washt posht ish that he had a tight deadwine for weading hish book; he had to be finished by today if he wanted to shay he’d wead a book by the time he wash ten.

ickUw’sh birfday ish in vewwy good company; Giwwiam and I are both gettin owder today. I am a venewabwe wook wook, at twenty yeawsh owd. It’sh actuawwy a vewwy shignificant day in wook wook hishtowy, wiv me being twenty, Giwwiam at five, and ickUw at ten. That’sh if you count in powersh of ten, which we do. Metwic wook wooksh for the win!

That’sh one of the thingsh I do to keep up wiv the youngshtewsh of today–internet shwang. Sho exshpect to shee wowbearsh any day now. I wook at youtube and evewyfing. The yumansh are shaying I’m wike a shewtered wewigioush schoowgiwl, and that’sh why I’ve gone nutsh now and wike gutsh and evewyfing, but I fink it’sh a natuwaw pwogweshion for a cawe beaw.

Poor old The Gww. Washt night, after watching the mosht weshent Doctor Who, she way down to shweep and evewy time she cwoshed her eyesh, they popped back open again out of sheer, hounding fear.

Don’t bwink. Don’t even bwink. Bwink and you’re dead. They’re fasht. Fashter than you could bewieve. Don’t turn your back, don’t wook away, and don’t bwink.

She kept wepeating thish witany under her bweaf. Eventuawwy, I wash forshed to point out that I couldn’t bwink if I twied, sho she might ash weww get shome shweep whiwe I kept a wook out.

Shiwwy humansh and their need for ocuwar wubwication.

Mishter Eaf thinksh my earsh should shtick upwight wather than waying fwat on my head, sho he pwoposhed a courshe of ear thewapy, in which my earsh would be tied forwawd for a few daysh before being weweashed, in the hope that they would go BOING! I’d got sho ushed to fwat earsh that I thought it would wook weird, but after shome contempwashion I thought it might be exshiting to have a new wook, and I deshided I wash wiwwing to give it a go.

Mishter Eaf wapped a bandana awound my head, making me wook wike I wash embwashing the peashant aeshthetic. I shtayed wike that for a whowe weekend, untiw I wash weady to unveiw myshewf in aww my new gwowy:

Earsh!

I wash sho exshited about my new wook that I went aww bwuwwy.

Shadwy, my earsh are getting fwatter again after having been out of the bandana for a few daysh. Perhapsh thish wiww have to be a weguwar thing if I want to keep my earsh perky.

Ahh, the twiawsh of being an ewderwy wook wook.

The Grr and Mishter Eaf awwaysh sheem to watch tewwy that advishesh viewer dishcweshion. I think they wike gore and viowensh. (The Grr shaysh she thinksh there should be more shexsh ash weww, but untiw then she’ww have to make do with badbeansh Jack Bauer and hish “Who are you working for?”.)

I wike watching tewwy with them, but the pwobwem ish, I’m not vewwy good at dishcweshion. I shaw gutsh on “Houshe” washt night! GUTSH! And now I’m poshting about it on the internet. That’s not vewwy dishcweet, ish it? It’sh a vewwy good job that viewer dishcweshion ish onwy ‘advished’ and not ‘enforshed’.

Hewwo!

I feew I should intwodushe myshewf. I’ve weshentwy woken up fwom a vewy wong shweep, and the Minishter for Wook Wook Wewationsh hershewf, the Grr, hash shet me up with this emaiw addwesh and bwogging thingy sho that I can join in aww theshe shtwange activitiesh that modern wook wooksh get up to theshe daysh.

I’m not quite shure how wong I’ve been hibernating, but I can shay that when I went to shweep there washn’t any shuch thing ash a bwog or emaiw, and I don’t think I knew even a shingwe waf. My name’sh Harmony, and I wash born (or, ash they shay nowadaysh, weshcued fwom the owoo shwoo twoo) in 1988 ash a Care Bear, but the Grr didn’t weawwy know much about Care Bears, sho I wash abwe to shtart to devewop my own pershonawity wight away, and, ash you can shee, my own way of tawking. I washn’t vewy forward and ended up keeping mowe and mowe to myshewf, which ish pwobabwy how I ended up going into hibernation aww thoshe yearsh. Next thing I knew, the Grr’s pawentsh were waking me up shaying it’sh time to go to Texshash! Weww, for a wecwushive homebody who ishn’t weawwy shure where Texshash ish, that short of thing can be a shock to the shyshtem! But what do you know, when I got here I found myshewf eager to get out into the worwd, wearn to tawk waf, wishten to wock ‘n’ woww mushic, and genewawwy shtart doing shtuff again.

The wafs have been vewwy wewcoming to thish owd bear, eshpeciawwy Giwwiam, who ish a shweetheart. The othersh keep teashing me that we are going out, but I’m 18 and he’sh onwy thwee! Mind you, not having got up to aww the shenanigansh that Squeegee awways getsh into, I have aged weww, if I do shay sho myshewf. . .

Now, what button makesh thish thing go?