A few werds from Bob
Yesterday's scores:
- Gills: no
- Simpsons: yes
- Tesco: yes
- Nose Hugs Surprizisity Score: 30 (on accownt ov it bein Bob's berfday) /10
HULLO NOT-A-BEARS!
Bob is a bit tyerd arfter all the eggsytment ov the larst few days, so I sed I'd pop in heer an do the word thing for him. I knew yu'd want to kno wat he got for his berfday, see.To be diffrent, I thort I'd intervew him an rite wat he sed heer.
Wunce I'd cut owt the cheeky bits, the fart jokes, an the stuff abowt wat a grayte Bear he is, thare wassent mutch left. But heer it is.
Age.
Me: Peepol want to kno how old yu ar, Bob. Ar yu cumffterbal tellin them?
Bob: Yor ownly as old as the pants yu feel.
Me: Not shor they'll understand that, Bob.
Bob: OK well, I'm 8 then.
Me: Am I rite in thinkin yu wer 8 larst yeer, too?
Bob: yeah, that's rite. As yu kno, Gray, wen yor a Bear, yu can be wat aige yu want. I liket bein 8, so I thort I'd stay thare for a bit.
Eggsytment
Me: Arfter the Wembley win on Saterday, waz yor berfday as good?
Bob: It waz a bit like my cuzzin Michael, hoo haz his berfday at Crismoss. Sum peepol think that meens it issent as good, but reelly it's eevn better cos it's an eevn bigger sellybrayshun than wat uther peepol get for their berfday.
Presents
Me: An wat DID yu get for yor berfday?
Bob: Oh, jus show them the fotoes for this bit.
Me: OK.This card waz from all us Bears:
Now for the presents.......
Dilly gayve Bob theez plastik flys.
Henri, Bob's French cuzzin, gayve him theez cheeky biskits:
The Windowsill Bears gayve him this book:
Theez choklits wer from Bob's Daddy:
Sam gayve him a payper bag:
I got him this big choklit cayke!
He got kwite a hord, dident he?!
In this foto larst pikcher, yu can just abowt see wat his Mummy gayve him-
she croshayed him a new bloo scarf.
I thort this waz kwite good, reelly, as she ownly startid lernin to croshay 2 weeks ago.
I remember my Granny Grayum yewst to do that.
I hope Mrs Helena keeps it up.
I'd kwite like to hav my own scarf.
Bak to the intervew...
Plastik Flys.
Me: Wat on erth ar yu goin to do wiv wat yor sister gayve yu, Bob?
Bob: I'm goin to hide them rownd the playse, like, in Daddy's Weetabix.
An Finerly...
Me: Eny messidge for the peepol owt thare?
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Me: OK, enything I can rite down?
Bob: Heheehehehe!!! [rolls off sofa]
Me: Weel leev it thare then!