Mummy's a liar. She told me that we had been accepted for a writer's residency at the Banff Centre and I looked it up on my database but it didn't resemble the place we were at. Not one bit. She said she's just sad that the spoken word residency isn't happening this year and so she made up a fib so that we could both believe it. I forgive her because I like the way her brain works sometimes. Except when she takes me out and knocks on doors and leaves me standing there with "The Watchtower'" and people think I'm a Jehova's Witness. No mummy, i'm only really a witness to you and sometimes it's kind of gruesome but I love you.
But we did do a writer's retreat at Wes and Fiona's place. They had many hairy beasts other than themselves running around there. We brought my sister Zoe Dog and she tried to be everyone's boss until she passed out on the floor and had no treats. There were two other dogs, a horse, some sheep some cats and Milo the pig who I loved so much I couldn't witness humanoids eat his friend.
Mummy, Zoe Dog and I spent lots of time in the "music hut" (liar liar, track pants on fire) and practiced mummy's show "Mel Malarkey Gets The Bums's Rush" and our set for Toronto Poetry Slam this Sunday, but mostly we burned things and watched flies come back to life. Mummy did that. Sometimes she's magic. Mummy says we're very lucky to have furry and not as furry friends that shit outdoors and have farms where some things get killed because they're tasty and others can wither and die because people are afraid of eating each other.
But mummy, sometimes you put live people in your mouth and you both seem to think this is delicious. Humans are weird but I love them so I won't end the human race like Hasboro wants me to. Yet. Come see our show this SundayFunday. Find out more, the facebook invite and the Toronto Poetry Slam website. See what we cooked up other than meat at our liar's retreat!