Don't put me out

The bear and I had a celebrity sleepover with none other than recently acquitted R. Kelly the other night. I didn't realize that he had even arrived until the bear woke me up by whispering a sweet nothing that consisted of: "I think the cat peed in the bed." At first I thought it was some new type of sexy talk that bear was trying out on me but he cut on the light and showed me the spots on the bed. The same bed that I had been sleeping in since 11pm (it was now 1am). I"m no Ruth Bader Ginsburg, so ALLEGEDLY, it seems that R. Kelly was shooting another sex tape within that 2 hour period and must have slipped me a ruphie earlier in the evening since I didn't hear a thing. He ALLEGEDLY peed on the bed twice, the bedroom floor, the bedroom rug, and in the hallway. I'm surprised that the bear didn't hear all of the filming/production noise that was going on, but since the a/c blew up he's been keeping his door shut to maximize the air from the window unit. Lucky him.

After being kicked out of the bedroom, Mr. Kelly ALLEGEDLY proceeded to film his latest video in the bathroom using our dirty clothing as an allegory about "keeping the man down." He somehow got in touch with Triumph the Insult Dog and they seemed to be working on duet material from Triumph's new album, Come Poop With Me. Yeah, that's right. He ALLEGEDLY left a nugget in the kitchen. He and Mr. Triumph must have gotten into our Courvoisier too. Such a celebration is generally not that big of a deal, unless you can't hold your liquor and hurl 2 times in my craft room, ALLEGEDLY of course.

I do not appreciate Mr. Kelly's ALLEGED ability to turn my house into an open sewer in such a short amount of time. My only hope has been to send him on his way for a new project which includes shooting scenes at the "Vet" location and testing out some new material called "Glucose Curves." The bear escorted to our special celebrity to the vet this morning, unfortunately the police would not comply to an escort even at the demand and insistence of Mr. Kelly.

It could be worse I suppose. We could have had to sit through the entirety of the hip-hopera, "The Closet."