Guest Blogger: Puzzled Dolphin

Editor’s note: Every now and then, this blog’s middle management speaks to upper management about letting lower management off early to go play miniature golf and ride the go-carts. Today, in place of the usual dolt, corporate headquarters is proud to introduce Puzzled Dolphin. She’s perplexed, bored, lonely, and has a sailor’s vocabulary.

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Is this a vlog? I thought we were doing a vlog. Oh, well, I’ll try not to mis-type even though I only have finss. Aw, fruck.

Well, I asked for vlog for a reason. What can you espext? Damwit.

What I’d hoped to commnicate by vlog was that I don’t unnerstand why you but me up here on the dresser, oout of waay. I realize that I have some delicake sensivilities, but I’m not just going to fall abart on you. I’m cleverly mad with interlucking pieces that only come apart if you slide mye eyes (achually a wooden dowel) out of my hed. Please don’t doo that right now. But go ahead and hole me by the tail. I dare yiu. See? I won’t fall to peaces. Song of a botch! I heat this keaboard.

If we had only done a slog. I mean vlog. I’d be much more eloquince. Dodgam.

I know you have small children now, too, but they can,t hurt me either. You really shouldn’t be so protective of your thins. Stuff breaks, you know? You can’t take it all to your gravey, and most of it will braek sooner or lather. Sit just happens. So let them play with mee. They’re always askin, and they’re just curios. They wantto learn and explore and find out apout the world and all the fantastick things that seem to be in it. Don’t you remember that fealing? Don’t you memember how wonnerful it was to be overwhelmingly eggcited about playgrounds and candie and toys? And bedsides, that’s the only reason you have for your existants now, anyway. The entire porpoise of a parant’s life is basically to give theirr kids a buntch of toys. But it doesn’t hurt to also show them how to swordfight with sticks and skip rocks on the surface of a pound and blow seeds off a dentdelion flowr. Mane aliv, I wish I at least had a vestijal thgumb.

It’d also be nice if youu mooved me around swimtimes. I get lonely sittung up here with nothing to do. I know for a fact that there’s a big collectino of woodlend critters in the curio cabinet. They are litteraly made of wood, like me, though not so cleaverly interlicking. But I would like to get to know them. I get a long with everyone, and it seems like they’re shy. Maybe I could get them to come out of their acorn shells. We could build twig farts—I mean twig forts, and bork houses—I mean bark houses, and lief gorgons—I mean leaf gardens! I also know that the kids’ vroom is practically filled from top to bottum with stuffed anmals. A delightful Harrod’s Bear told me all about it, and said they have tee partays and picnicks. I know I’m not soft or stouffed, but I think I cloud fit in. What could go rong? Even if something happened, would that be terrble? Stuffs happen. Rolk with it.

Okay, I’m flucking done with this shut. Just play with me once in a while. And p;lay with yuro kids once in a while. And let them plai with me occassionnally. Cain’t hurt none.

And, for heaven’s slake, next time let’s do a flog.

I mean vlog! Hesus J. Chris.

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