Sthstuff

I gotsths a problem. Dat problem be my sthsisthter Tahoe - dat big fuzzy beasthst dat everyone be sthsayin' isths prettier dan me - sthspends all night eating sthstuff dat ain't hersths. I usthsed to think dat'sths pretty funny becausthse there sthsure isths a lot of sthstuff in disths housthse, sthso if she eat sthsome, dat meansths dere's more room for me to run around. I like to run around - esthspecially if dere be sthsquirrelsths. But dat be another sthstory. The problem isths that sthsince Tahoe sthstarted eating sthstuff sthso much, Ma and Popsths done put more sthtsuff in the housthse. Dere'sths dat new table in da kitchen, and drumsths sthsitting dere by my couch. Dang drums. If popsths knew dat Tahoe be playing dem drums all day when he out dere building fencesths, oohhh, he'd have sthsomethin' much to sthsay about dat!