Archive for the ‘Gabby-maid#1’ Category

Missing your monkey

Monday, May 30th, 2011


By Tiber 

To summarize some recent events:

The animal park lost a monkey who ended up here lost in our house.

We couldn’t find him for quite awhile.

Taffy, the maid, was depressed because a guy had broken up with her and Gabby, another maid, thought that Taffy was crawling into bed with her at night because she couldn’t bear to be alone.

It wasn’t Taffy coming into Gabby‘s room, though. It turned out to be the monkey.

And the animal park people came and took him home.

Now I’ve heard that both Taffy and Gabby are depressed.

I know why.

I’ve heard about the guys they go out with. and I guarantee you, that monkey was better looking, more reliable, less idiotic and had a much more mature sense of humor than any of them.

They should have gotten his phone number.

Bedtime for Bonzo

Saturday, May 21st, 2011

By Tiber

We finally found the monkey that’s been loose in our house and the animal park people came and took him back.

They said he looked good and I guess he could have lived here forever if he’d only kept a slightly lower profile.

My parents’ maid, Taffy, ( to whom all bad things happen) recently had the guy she‘d been dating leave town.  He said he had to go to Switzerland to attend “luge school.” Seriously, dude? “Luge school?!?” Of course, someday he’ll show up as a gold medal winner in the Olympics and I’ll be the ass.

In any event, he left and Taffy’s been really depressed and lonely so the other maid, Gabby, didn’t complain when Taffy kept eating the snacks Gabby keeps in her room as well as crawling into bed with her late at night.

Even so, Gabby was only going to put up with it for one more night when she happened to look out her door and see Taffy walking down the hall and not lying next to her in bed at all.

So we found the monkey!

Personally, after sleeping with him for so long, I think I’d have myself sandblasted. But I guess we’ll leave that up to Gabby.

Reality bites…Just somewhere else

Sunday, August 22nd, 2010

By Tiber 

As I’ve said before, Gabby, one of my parents’ maids, is our expert on all things “celebrity.”  The way things are trending in our culture, she may end up being the most important person in the house.

Recently, she expressed an idea over in the staff wing that quickly made its way over here. Since Dad needs more money, why didn’t we do our own reality show?

Iris Nell, whose brain has dug out certain well-worn trenches, naturally thought first that “maybe a prince will be watching and then want to marry me.” This prince thing has seriously got to be stopped. There can’t even be enough of them to go around, even if they were handing them out.

Honor heard about the idea and said she would never consider putting the triplets on any show because of the bad influence. We all knew, of course, that  the “bad influence” would be on the entire crew of teamsters the kids would end up taking out, causing us to be sued for a lot more than we were making.

Dad was initially all for a reality series since he seemed to picture it being more of a sophisticated talk show with him as the urbane host, rather than the much more likely scenario of demonic edits and close-ups from a toilet-cam.

Mom was the one who put a complete stop to it, though. In another of her sudden reveals of “things we never knew about Mom,” she brought out a clutch of ribbons she’d won in college for sharpshooting and murmured that anyone bringing a reality producer anywhere near the house could draw his or her own conclusions.

I’m thinking it’s a no-go. 

Brother, can you spare a mil?

Monday, June 28th, 2010

By Tiber 

My parents’ maid, Gabby, like so much of the world, is obsessed with celebrities. She worships them. Once in awhile, one of our family members will want to confirm some gossip about somebody famous and no matter how obscure it is, Gabby will always know all about it.

Also, like many other people, Gabby thinks that the celebrities she loves, love her right back.

And with Dad having money problems, Gabby figured out a new way to hang onto her job. She decided to contact her favorite celebrities and ask them for money. They’re still rich, so why not?

To her disappointment, though, all she got back were some autographed pictures, no cash. She’d failed in her quest but she still wanted my parents to know that she’d tried, so she explained what she had done, and told them that, at least, they could keep the photos.

My parents, of course, were horrified that she’d contacted any Hollywood people at all and said there was no need to ask anyone for money. Gabby replied that she was relieved to know this since she’d been about to start hitting up the world’s royal families.

On hearing this, my father suddenly paused, until Mom smacked him with a rolled-up magazine.

Mom then worried that maybe they’d hurt Gabby’s feelings and she told her how much they still appreciated her efforts. And then Mom lied and said that she and Dad would be honored to each have one of the photographs Gabby had offered.

Mom just took the first one on the stack but it still pleased Gabby very much. Dad instantly went for the photo five pictures down which “happened” to be some reality star in a bikini bottom. And with that, at least two of them were pleased.