May 5, 2007 - 

Geez. This woman is a slave driver. A tyrant. Do this, do that, clean this, clean that, hop to it. Now she says I have to dust. I told her I had sensitive skin, bad allergies and a dust bunny phobia, but she didn't seem to care. She keeps saying she doesn't have time do to these things herself because she has to pack for her trip. When she's not giving me grief she's on the phone talking about plans, dates, reservations, Sharpies, trash dumpsters, sidewalks and bald spots. Weird. 

Guess I'd better start dusting before she tells me to rotate the tires on her car. 

What's this?! Bears! Hello! Hello? No one is answering me. I'd better get a little bit closer. Maybe they can't hear me. EEEEK! THEY'RE ALL STUFFED!! Run! Hide! What shall I do now? I hear her coming! 

Uh.. yes.. I'm dusting.. see?! Yes, ma'am. I'm dusting the whole shelf. All the way to the top? The top? You do know I have a fear of heights, right? Oh, no! I'm not refusing! I'm climbing, I'm climbing!

I'd better act like I don't know a thing. Maybe I can work my way across the room. I thought I saw a computer on the desk when she let me out of the box. If it has Internet connection, maybe I can email my editor for help. I don't want to end up a stuffed bear!

Oh good. She does have a connection and the computer is already turned on! Cute mouse pad she has here. Some bald guy in a wool coat. Looks familiar. I'll do a criminal background check on him when I get back to the paper. He's obviously one of America's most wanted. Ok now. Type in my user name and my password. Password, password. What was that password?? Let me think... hotbearse7en, no, cuterthankevin5, no... that's it! I'd better type fast... hisbaldspotsbigger... 

Now to email my editor. I'll use all caps so she'll know I'm serious. HELP! HELP! (KevieBear hears footsteps.) No, no, I'm not loafing around, I'm uh, dusting the keyboard and uh, accidentally hit one of the keys and uh, uh... yes ma'am. I'll get back to work. Phew! That was close. I'd better cruise the web while I wait for my editor to reply, just in case she comes back and sees something on the screen. I'll do a Google search for.. for.. I know! Hot Stuffed Bears! Oh, look what came up. Boyds Bear Country Store. That's where I buy my disguises. Some of my friends live there too. Sniffle, sniffle. I miss Driving Mr. Spacey! bear and Lex Luthor Slurpee cup. Sniff. I miss my sweater collection too. Sniff. I'm going to end up a stuffed bear on the top shelf and will never have experienced my one dream in life. To meet my idol. Kevin Spacey. The trip to the Old Vic was so close. But now... I think I'm going to cry because... what's this? A Kevin Spacey coaster? Why would the Crazed Bear Stuffer have a Kevin Spacey coaster? 

Wait a minute. Something is a little off here. Think K-Bear. Think. You're a seasoned detective/reporter/actor. Put together all the clues.

1. Trip to New York City
2. Sharpies
3. Reservations
4. Sidewalks
5. Trash Dumpster 
6. Bald spot! 
7. Mouse Pad w/Bald Guy in Wool Coat
8.Demanding and bossy woman in contact with others of her kind!

Could it be? Is it possible that she could be one of those most wonderful of God's creatures. A SPACEY FAN??? A SPACEY FAN ON HER WAY TO NEW YORK CITY BECAUSE... BECAUSE... OOOOH MY HEAD IS SPINNING.

 

Fly Away, Little Bear

 

Driving Mr. Spacey!: The positively untrue life and times of Kevin Spacey,
with a few real facts thrown in for fun.