Fake Samuel

Sorry its been a while. I've been in rehab and you know how they're all no-outside-contact-until-we -remake-who-you-are. Whatever. I went to their classes, I meditated on the new swiffer-sniffer free me, I met with the addiction specialists, I went to the group sessions. I got through it all. What a waste. I think The Folks read my last post and saw a good way to get rid of me for a few weeks. They like to play Wii at the Grandparent's house. I'm happy to let them do it too, but they feel the need to police me 24/7. I've been working on standing alone and walking (haven't shown 'em that yet), and as so as I get it down I'm so out of here. On the other hand, Christmas was good. So far I got a few more books to read, a ton of cars to push around and a big truck thingie that makes a ton of noise - it really bugs The Folks. And I still have another Grandparent to go. She's good for something noisy I'll wager. I hope it can go in my crib...

So apparently The Father has been uploading videos on his blog and only now finding out that a majority of them are so dark it looks like a couple of blobs dancing to kid's music. Serves him right - trying to exploit me for profit on the Internet. And the yahoos reading his blog didn't have the sense to say "hey these videos BLOW do something about it dorko." Idiots. UPDATE: I've just been informed that this same problem *might* have afflicted my previous posting of the horror mini-series that I'm acting in. That this problem could be a generalized error and not something simply limited to the stupidity of The Father is a small chance to be sure, but rest assured I will find the people responsible and have them shot.

The Folks are on my back like 24/7. I can't get a moment to myself. So sometimes, when they finally leave me alone for 2 seconds, I get up and walk around. Yea I've been walking for sometime now. I keep it on the down-low. As long as they still think I'm crawling they don't lock up the cleaning supplies. And I kind of have a swiffer habit. Not the mopping kind. The dusting pads. I sniff them. Kinda gives me a buzz. I think. Anyhoo its no big deal - its under control. The problem is, I forget that The Folks don't know about the ambulation thing. So sometimes, when they deny things that are clearly mine, or when I feel my personal liberties are being infringed upon, my sense of righteous indignation rises up and I decide to run to the closet, grab a swiffer pad and drown my sorrows in Lemon Pine scent. Or Citrus, by Everyday Living. Store brand. Not as good. Anyway as soon as I realize that I'm about to take off running, I remember that I'm ju...

I've been doing a little acting on the side recently. Here is the first installment in my most recent work.

This is the twisted tale of one Brown Bear and his animal friends. Unbenownst to them, they are all being watched by a classroom full of children, hungry for their blood. Little by little, they come to know this, mainly by using their collective powers of deduction. I found this book amusing, in its illustrations (a purple cat - absurd), as well as its portrayal of modern animal life. Apparently these animals have nothing better to do than to look around at each other. Of course, in the end, this is what saves them from being killed by the children. At least that's what I assume happens - the book leaves it to the imagination of the reader, and I'm an optimist. All in all I give this book 2 thumbs up. This psychological thriller kept me on the edge of my seat from cover to cover. When I receive the sequel "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, How do you Taste?," I will review it as well.

Its incredibly difficult to come up with witty banter when your brain has not yet fully developed. And this keyboard was bigger than me about 4 months ago. I have to pound the mouse button with my fist. What a chore. But I think the worst part is the fear of reprisal. Its not easy when you're such a public figure, saying whatever comes to mind. I live in the constant knowledge that there is always somebody watching, possibly with a camera, just waiting for me to mess up. Or say something that goes too far. Have I received death threats? No. But I'm pretty sure thats only because I don't check my email. Someday, someday, I'm gonna be old enough to defend myself. I anticipate they'll attack before then. Let them try.

Because for months and months all I could do was lay there and stare at stuff and then finally, finally , I could wiggle a little bit and play with whatever was put in front of my face. And that curbed my boredom for about 4 seconds. Then it got really bad. Unless one of the Folks is just rotating stuff in front of me, life is just really boring. So eventually, the pushups I do everynight in the crib before falling asleep started to pay off and I could crawl around. And that was fine for a while. Like 5 or 6 seconds. And I'm bored again. Sure I may look happy, but its really just a courtesy for the rest of you, so you don't have to share in my endless pain. And so it seems that, at times, I can amuse myself, by recounting jokes I've heard on Good Morning America. Of course, since no one on GMA is very witty, the only way they are funny is if you scream them.