Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Day 478

Alejandro Fluffy Caramel Swenson died on October 4, 2011.

All signs point to his death occurring while he was trying to climb into and tip over the garbage can (again). There has been serious discussions in the house as to whether we should continue releasing sections of his diary. While there could be no new entries, we uncovered some early writings which could explain the autocratic, erratic and completely amazing behavior of our pet bunny.

Dear Bunbun,

We made the best home for you that we could and you used it to live a good life. We miss your crazy hallway runs and how you beg for treats and sit in our shoes. We have considered getting another Bun one day though there's no way a new Bun would be as cool as you.

But the Guinea Pigs need leadership and the Carrot Mines don't sell The Small One is lonely.

With love,

The Lady, The Tall One, The Small One and The New Guy

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Day 185

Year of the Rabbit Bitches!!

I spent most of today putting out fires.

Heath set fire to his fur like 6 times trying to light off firecrackers and we had to keep dousing him with water. The whole lobby smells like burnt fur but the fircrackers were a nice morale booster. The gang was pretty low when I told them that "The Year of the Rabbit" was NOT going to be the kickoff to the Great Bunny Insurrection. Seriously, how cliched is that? I actually caught Bettina sharpening carrots. I think she thought they'd be used as spears. Such a disappointing failure of imagination (Chris and Pat's High Pressured Pureed Carrot Canon is obviously the better choice).

New Year Resolutions:
1. Manage to my KPI's and meet updated sales goals
2. Stop pooping in my food bowl.
3. Double the Guinea Pig workforce in Sector 81 to focus on Baylor's reseach on Genetically Modified Calcium Enhanced Carrot production.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Day 154

Can I even describe the joys of "Hallway Time"? Not really but I can try.

It's like a 3 day pass but I didn't have to haul Private Ryan out of a ditch to earn one. No! It's like a Disney Park Hopper Pass only it's full of ankles and my blue ball and the little garbage can in the bathroom just waiting to be tipped over. And what makes this miracle possible? I'd said before that leaving the cage wasn't safe, all the assassins and whatnot but the Ferrets swept the block for me and cleaned out some "problem areas" and then the Guinea Pigs from sector 18 upgraded the security system over 6 long nights while The Family was asleep. Laser beams and pressure sensors and 24 hour surveillance can buy you a lot of freedom.

I caught hell again this weekend. The Lady stumbled in from New Year's Eve (with a frekin' HORN) saying something about how everything at bunny level in the hallway and bathroom looked like I thrown a rave. Which is SO not true. The weekend before I threw a rave and hoo boy, that was epic! This weekend I threw an Ultimate Fighting Exhibition match between Chris and Pat from engineering. The proceeds from the 50/50 tickets went to upgrade the breakroom kitchens in the mines and Bettina donated back her half of the winnings which means we can spring for the granite countertops.

So we had the thing and the cleaning crew was gonna get it all straight in the morning, I figured since it was the holiday they could sleep in but the Lady got home first and I ended up back in the cage.

Totally worth it though.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Day 108

I can't even describe the stress I've been under.

Since the collapse of the Chilean mine the United Mine Workers of America have been recruiting hard. I thought that a work force made entirely of genetically engineered guinea pigs would have insulated me from having to deal with union recruitment but damn the little buggers, someone smuggled a New York Times in during their monthly "Rock, Paper, Scissors Tournament" and it's been hell ever since. Technically I have to let the recruiters make their case, but since they can't fit down the guinea pig sized holes and I'm now refusing to let the guinea pigs out of the mines I'm cool. Needless to say my elevator down to the hot springs pool isn't getting done any faster.

I've even been denied the comfort of confiding in my confidential journal. This morning I noticed that months of pages have been ripped out! I'm gonna assume someone was tipped to my fundraising efforts for the Rangel Center and needed to cover their ass. I stand by my plan though. Those CUNY kids needed a reason to believe in international affairs again and I think Russian Strippers were the best way to combine the mission of the program with the money the Center needed to operate. It may have been a poor idea to use Rangel's W and M stationary to send the invites to the "September to Remember Strip-a-Thon" but it got the job done.

Point Being - my journal has a big empty spot in it and the spine is all floppy. I can't get into a good frame of mind for composing when my journal has been violated.

I sent Jinx to Staples to find me a nice Hemingway-type leather journal to continue writing in and the ass-hat comes back with THIS:

Seriously. Up until now I'd have said that a chinchilla as a personal assistant was the way to go but now I'm doubting his ability to follow simple instructions. I'm speechless - truly.


Days 25 through 107 were ripped from this book by men in dark suits who were "never here".

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

DAY 24

Where to begin, where to begin? The Lady just lost her shit on me and I kinda had it coming.

Last weekend she put me in my pod and sat me in the window while she cleaned the cage. Normally a cause for concern since life outside my cage is still dangerous but it was the perfect time to check in with the ferrets. It seems that the cats next door have been in collusion with the Rat Brothers and have been eliminated. I love those ferrets. And they work for KFC, which not many people would expect. This hit cost me an extra 6 biscuits but it was (of course) worth it.

When she cleaned the cage she changed the flooring to this blue thing with faces all over it. The Tall One calls it "Bakugan Sheets". It's freaky. There are faces looking up my butt. I liked the flowers better...actually Bettina liked the flowers better. She said it reminded her of growing up in the Nebraska prairie. When The Lady cleaned the cage she installed a hut. I think she expected me to sit on top of it but that would put the tips of my ears just in range of snipers. I paid good money to have my ears done that summer in Peru and I'm not risking them now so I sit under it instead.

When I realized how nice it was under there, I tried to get the Guinea Pigs to put in an elevator under the stool which descends to the carrot mines' hot springs. I called up Chris and Pat in engineering to get some drawings together and they were all "blah blah Building Codes" and "yada yada manpower spread too thinly" and my favorite "A motor that size would take a loan from the IMF".

I admit I lost my temper here. Seriously, after all I do for these guys and this is the response I get? Who sends them Harry and David gift baskets every Christmas? Who had the jungle gym put in the daycare center? Do they even know how hard it is to find a jungle gym for guinea pigs? All I want is a lousy elevator (Chris really shouldn't have pointed out that it would technically be called a de-elevator) under my hut to take me through several hundred feet of solid rock, utility pipes and earth completely silently so that I can take a schvitz. I started tearing through the flooring with my teeth, the plastic layer came up easily and in pieces, the fabric layer I pulled through the bars and the carpet was coming up easily in strings before Chris and Pat jumped on me and calmed me down. I just needed to prove that all this project needs is a little elbow grease and some passion. It's obviously not my fault that The Lady put my litter pan so close to the now exposed carpet.

So now my cage is re-cleaned and she moved my hut to another corner. DAMMIT. The plans will have to be redrawn.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

DAY 16

Human Birthdays are strange. Last night there was much rejoicing over Flaming Cake (although no one offered me a single strawberry from it) followed by a "game" of passing a beeping disk around the room while they yelled random words and mocked each other. Growing up, there were so many of us our mother didn't bother with celebrating birthdays. She didn't bother with naming us either, we were all called "you". Most people don't know that I got my name from Alejandro Moreno the great Venezuelan football player. His mother found me in a burned out bollito truck after I escaped from Miss Venezuela 1979. That chick was craaaazy, I travelled with her for 3 months on her "peaceful Venezuela" tours. Peace? I guess anyone will find peace when you took as many benzos as she did. Anywho - Senora Moreno brought me home to play with her baby and since she had such a bad memory from too much smelting fumes from the steel factory she worked in, she called us both Alejandro. My middle names "Fluffy Carmel" are a llittle harder to explain, maybe later. But I digress...human birthday rituals suck.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

DAY 12

The house was loud last night, the Smaller One came from from camp.

Ha! Camp?! I'll show him camp. Did he spend 17 nights in a soggy warren under Saigon? Did he hole up with Yasgur's rabbits trying to get a cartload of Indonesian operatives to the Canadian border with nothing to eat but the dropped tabs of brown acid? No and no, sir. Kids today...

So it was looking for awhile like I was going to strike a deal over next season's haul of carrots. The fires in Russia are affecting more than wheat so the bidding war was happening all by itself until the Earth's Best guys heard on NPR that the Australian carrot crop was abundant and that fears of a shortage were completely unfounded and pulled out. Damn You Neil Conan! The revenues from that sale were going to fund my Eat, Pray, Love trip next year too. I'm totally bummed.

Bettina's coming over later, she just got Madden 11 so we're gonna check that out.

DON'T FORGET: Send Sector 3 Guinea Pigs Edible Arrangements by Saturday for winning the door decorating contest...send something door-like. They'll love that.

Monday, August 9, 2010


A truly harrowing near-miss this weekend.

Thursday night The Man took me out of the cage (which was cool because The Smaller One was playing Wii and I have the Sector 7 Guinea Pigs working on adapting Wii technology so that I can one day use my ears to control a bullet proof car) and parked me on his shoulder on the couch.

On Saturday, The Lady cleaned the cage. At first it was all cool. She tidied and spruced, offered me some problem. She opened the gate and put a nice leafy piece just outside the door. Obviously, I couldn't get at it. New Ferret intel showed that the Rat Brothers, Shultz and Hogan, are back in town. I'm not quite clear on what I did to piss off rat assassins but I know enough to stay clear. The Guinea Pigs' new laser beam cage enhancements mean I'm totally fine in here but I don't know if The Lady has upgraded her pressure sensors and motion detectors in the last few years. Judging by the non-hd tv set I'm thinking No.

Anyway - I digress - the lettuce was clearly out of bounds...when I didn't go for it SHE LIFTED ME UP AND SET ME ON THE CARPET! What the Frak?! And she was all "Here's a strawberry Bun Bun" and "Do you want some more lettuce?" You know what I wanted?? To NOT die. That's pretty much it. To avoid the crosshairs I took off for a nice nook behind the couch but my hind end wouldn't quite fit (note: remind guinea pigs to fix treadmill) so I backed out and tried to tunnel under the cage. The Taller One got involved and tried to scratch my head, there's a 30 second window there I can't remember and then his grabby hands put me back inside the perimeter.

Holy Hell that was close. As much as the Guinea Pigs seem to hate the Ferrets thay have their purposes.

I moved up my massage and added some aromatherapy. And pot. Lots of pot.

Friday, August 6, 2010


What is it with this heat?? Don't get me wrong, getting out of the shelter was great and I have a pretty sweet setup here in Galloway but it's so frickin' hot! I couldn't do much last night beside lay out and try not to move. I cancelled all my meetings yesterday afternoon and I sent Heath to teach my Krav Maga class for me. I'm thinking of handing that off to him permanently anyway, he's the Israeli Special Forces guy, not me.

Tilly's e-mail today really threw me, I gotta find out what happened at that party! She's so much more relaxed that when we met. I remember her being scared by all the noise at the Primavera Sound Festival that year, she really shouldn't have gotten  that close to the stage. I got her out of there and took her down to Old Harbor before we went back to my place. I think that summer I had a little hole under the Picasso Museum. I remember it was near the train station which made communication a breeze since Cupcake was in Madrid working on the El Prado job. I'll give it a few days and call her I guess.

On today's agenda:

Meeting with the carrot mine inspectors those Upper Big Branch hacks ruined it for the rest of us.
  • Tell Heath to turn the carotene sensors back on.
  • Double Alfalfa treats in the breakroom to keep the Guinea Pigs happy.
  • Call Gerber and Earth's Best, create artificial shortage of carrots, start bidding war over next months supply.
Destroy the plastic dinosaur The Lady put in my cage last night.

Thursday, August 5, 2010


Last night's details are a little fuzzy. I had Tilly over for her post-spay fete along with some of the gang. She and I had a "thing" back in '07 when we were both is Barcelona and I knew she needed some cheering up. Plus - I was hoping she still had some pain killers left from the surgery (RESULT! - she did). Tilly post-spay is SO much more fun than I remember! The poor kid had dropped 6 litters a year for 3 years and I think she just wants to let loose now. I did what I could to oblige.

The last thing I remember is the DJ asking me if I really wanted "Walk the Dinosaur" played 17 times.


(I think it was Gordy that requested it, that dude is a geek for Was (Not Was)). I was finishing my fourth Glenlivit as I told him that under no circumstances were those Detroit-beat-poet-freaks going to be played when everything got blurry and then dark.

This morning the Disco Globe/Carrot Juice Fountain was smashed on the carpet and my Roy Orbison action figure collection is missing. I'm mostly pissed about the Globe Fountain. It was a custom job out of Brisbane and man, you could spike that shit with anything.

I'm just gonna lay low today and see if I can get this place cleaned up. The Lady came through yesterday with a vaccuum which was more unpleasant than I can describe so I think I'll get the guinea pigs up from Sector 13 with some dust pans and a mop or two, shouldn't take long.