Found the Elmo ornament

Coop here: I'm enjoying donuts and cider at Ryan's bday party. Taking notes for my own suare, coming up soon.

And to be honest, while the B is out on the tumblebus, I've been studiously reading every book I can find inside Ryan's house.

And I just noticed that Owen and Ryan have an Elmo ornament. Several in fact.

Dad, take note. Elmo ornaments make christmas better.

Mess with the bull...

And you're gonna get the horns.

That is all...

Not quite first class...

Coop reporting...

Flying coach isn't always the hell that Waakabee portrays it as. But philadelphia's airport is very close to the shittiest daddy's ever seen.Got dad's ipod. Watching mickey mouse clubhouse from my window perch on daddy's lap.Charlie, we're coming home.

That is all...

Put. Me. Down.

Uncle Colin? The Coop does not want!

That is all...

What DO you want to watch?

Cooper and daddy run through a list of shows to watch. Coop is so hard to please!



That is all...

I heart Taylor Swift

This is my new favorite song. I sing it to Cooper every chance I get. La la la. Ha ha ha.

Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Mom here -

"Hold you", "Diego Cup", "Einsteins", "Seaside"...... the whining goes on and on. What do you do with a two year old that does not know what he wants? And will not stop whining/talking? You present snack after snack and play show after shown until he is satisfied. What finally worked? Fruit gooeys and Looney Toons.

Is it bad that I'm glad tomorrow is Monday so I can escape to work......??? Maybe.

Cooper sick

Cooper reporting. I'm off to see the doctor because of a mysterious barking cough I have.
Waaka thinks I sound like a seal, but I think that is because he secretly has a thing for Anarctic animals (have you seen his penguin picture?)

Open Letter to John Lennon

Waakbee says...

Today I wrote a letter to John Lennon.

My dad has introduced me to the Beatles. I love their music! I especially love the songs where John plays the pharnomica (sic). Coop and I sing these songs as we listen to them on the way to school every morning.

So my dad actually did something cool for once and bought each of us a pharnomica (sic). I opened it with glee and began playing immediately. Many of you won't be suprised that I am already a master at the ol' mouth harp. The Waakabee's skills are boundless, and his talent limitless.

Playing the pharnomica (sic) while dad and mom played Beatles Rockband got me thinking. Would John Lennon be my friend? A despot rarely has peers, but John's talent at music writing and performing surely places him in that short list.

So I set about drafting a letter to John, proposing an alliance, a bond, a friendship of sorts. Because my handwriting is still under development, I had my otherwise pathetic dad serve as my own Joan Holloway and transcribe my letter. His mild retardation comes through pretty clearly in his own penmanship. Oh, I cannot wait until I can afford to get a real secretary (I believe in classic titles - none of this "administrative assistant" women's lib crap). But I digress.

So I wrote my letter (or rather my monkey father did) and included what I feel is a pretty awesome sketch of a machine that John may want to look into having constructed. Sharing skematics of such a potentially profitable and useful gismo is quite the grand gesture, if I do say so. John surely has plenty of cash from his awesome music catalog and owning the copyright to round sunglasses, but what Mighty man couldn't stand having more wealth?

Since John doesn't have a current address (and dad was reluctant to explain why - maybe John will tell me), we put the letter, skematics, and some awesome Star Wars stickers in the mail to John care of his weirdo wife Yoko Ono.

Dad says Yoko led the Beatles' to their demise and ultimate dissolution. I believe her actions, surely fueled by nationalist pride, show a bold and creative counterstroke to what was previously believed to be the end of the War. Nagasaki be damned, this woman helped Japan get the last word in by scuttling the rise of Western Culture, thereby shifting the course of history leading us to such abominations as Disco, Culture Club, and Oasis. Bravo, devil woman. Bravo.

Anyway, I hope that John gets my missive and will be agree to be my amigo. Dad says not to hold my breath, but I'm not sure why. Damn that monkey man can be frustrating what with his smug look of monkeyness and all.

For posterity, I've shared the letter with you here. Enjoy, peasants.

That is all...

Gamecocks go limp

Today we...

Hung out and watched the Jackets whoop some Gamecock ass.

We tailgated with Grandma and Big Pop just off campus, snacking on tasty meats and salty snacks. Mom and dad both mentioned the lack of beer, but sometimes they forget they are not college kids anymore.

We then walked down to Bobby Dodd Stadium and enjoyed a 500 yard crushing of our lower division opponent. Buzz and I became fast friends.

We ate many tasty treats, including hot dogs, pop corn, sno cones (notably not made of actual snow), goldfish, and cotton candy. It was so friggin' hot, dad said it felt like he was in Hanoi and seeking comfort in some momma-san's Mekong Delta. Mom took great offense to that, but I heard Hanoi was hot, so I don't know what she's getting upset over.

Once I was all hopped up on the sugar, I forced dad to carry me on his shoulders as we climbed to the tippy top of the stadium. From this lofty perch, I dreamed I was practicing my sniper tactics.

">

From here, the world belongs to me. From my position I can see Mom and Coop. I am told that Tech is one of the rare Divison 1 stadiums where you can find empty seats for nearly any game. When I am in charge of the world, and my colleges play football (with modified rules), stadiums will be filled so full the stands will be in danger of collapsing.

That is all...

A vision of my future

Waakabee says: These guys mean business. As do I. I cannot wait to have my own massive military force backing me up as I whoop ass and take names across the galaxy.

Yoda was a tiny Jedi Master. Who's to say I cannot be?

We went the Dragon Con parade this morning. It was awesome, though the Mad Max guys were a teensy bit too loud. I liked the pirates, the super heroes, the awesome cars, the soldiers, and Disney characters. Dad got really excited about the Battlestar Galactica guys, the GI Joe guys, and all the scantily clad women.

Mom really liked the guys from 300.

All in all, it was a fun time.



P.S.
I sense a disturbance in the Force.

And a sad, sorry middle aged man in a costume.

This amuses me.

That is all...

Heeeeyyy Y'aalll

Coop says: Just perfecting my... PARTY FACE!

That is all...

I Crashed My Spaceship

Waakabee says:

Crashed my spaceship. Now what the shit am I going to do?

Oh bother.

That is all...

A Lesson in Hygiene

Coop says: Today I learned that the white plastic baskets with colorful round cakes found in the urinals of the South Cobb Community Center are NOT toys filled with candy. I also learned a new expression that I don't think I've ever heard daddy say before: "oh sweet fucking christ." Waaka assures me he hasn't heard that before, either.

I did get the opportunity to wash my hands like a big boy - five times. What fun! Maybe I'm finally moving beyond wet wipes, and into the world of soap and water!

Princess Waaka was going on about the smell of the place, otherwise I think daddy would have let me wash my hands more.

We're off to play outside where daddy says I can get into less trouble.

The B Likes to Sing

Coop and I have been practicing our Little Einsteins routine for this fall's "Little Dictator" talent show and jamboree. I'm looking forward to the funnel cakes, the keynote topic of "Waterboarding vs Slip N' Slide For Interrogation", and the ring toss.



That is all...

The B says...

My kingdom, laid out before us in rustic granite relief. If only Cooper would be my willing second in command, helping me rule with justice, fear, and power. Instead he is a bitter disappointment.

Here's a prime example: I asked him what is greatest in life. He said, "yar-gins". This is Cooper pidgin for "The Backyardigans". No doubt his answer was influenced by the mind-numbing two hour car ride filled with endless repeats of the Backyardigans' hits played on the stereo. I believe I saw dad's ears bleeding at one point, but who pays attention to morons?

Anyway, clearly the correct answer to my question is, "To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations of the women." I also would have accepted, "desert eagle .50," or "shapely curves on a cougar" But alas, Coop is oblivious.

Cooper, thou hast shamed me.

That is all...

NOM!

Dad says we can have some special treats if we behave tonight!

I will let Coop earn his, and when dad is not looking I will whoop Coop's ass and take his cookie like a ninja. Ninjas love cookies.

Car Rides Also

Are a great time to study war documentaries, the better to learn how to crush one's enemy with.

Car rides

Are great reading time.

Charlie Rides Shotgun

I love when mom brings Charlie to help pick me up. He makes a great sidekick. All the other kids are mad jealous because I have the fluffiest dog!
True story - the other day we left him in the car at Publix. He jumped out and followed us inside!

A Relaxing Bath

Nothing soothes like a long soak. I like to do it completely submerged.

Even better, I like to bathe while reclining on my own personal chaise: Waakakbee.

That is all...

Italy can suck it

One of the best parts about the 4th of July is the resurrection of old timey songs. These songs are quaint and remind us that colonial Americans had little to do other than sit around and make catchy jingles.

A lot of these songs need to be updated, however. Take "Yankee Doodle" for instance. The comment about "macaroni" is outmoded. What have the Italians done for us? Except maybe roll over every single time we've fought against or with them in the last 100 years.

I say we celebrate instead the greatness that is America, and pay homage to that most tasty tuber, the potato.


That is all..

Fire works go boom...

Yes, fireworks go boom and Walker has used his first curse word correctly - mark your calenders folks, 7/4/09. As someone who learned every curse word from her own parents, we try to be very careful around the boys. But, last night, as we were leaving the Marietta fireworks with a line of cars both in front and behind us, Walker comes up with, "Look at all the damn cars." Well, hmm, okay. How does one respond? There were a lot of damn cars in front of us and behind us. So, we did what any good parent does and lied. We told Walker he can't use that word until he's 25 or the police will arrest him.

Seemed to work.

Can I have some privacy please?

Mom here - tonight walker announced he needed to poopie and asked me for help. But once I got him up on the potty, he looked at me and said, "Can I have some privacy, please?" Well, needless to say - shocked but at least he was polite about it. I'm still needed though - not three minutes later, "I'm doooooooooooooonee." I wish he would learn to wipe his own bum.

- mom out

Red, White and Hot

Who wears a glittered hat, is covered in ice cream and hums Yankee Doodle? We do!

On Thursday, Cooper and I participated in Primrose of Providence Pavillion's 3rd annual 4th of July parade. We wore fancy hats, had ice cream and went home early. All in all, not a bad day.

Once Cooper saw Mommy, he chose not to pleasure the masses with his parading skills. Rather, he modeled his hat for the young ladies in my class.

Cooper has Moved

Because the Wakkabee and I share many of our experiences together, we, in a show of solidarity, have decided to share blog space. Don't fret, monkeys! You will still get more than one side of the story. I can't let that princess make me out to be the bad guy...

Happy 4th!

Water Babies

Mom here - To celebrate our Nation's independence, our friends invited us to their pool for a little splishy splashy.

I give you a few tidbits I learned from this experience:

1. Walker is infatuated with scuba divers. We are not sure where this infatuation came from, but it's there and it's strong. Walker insisted on wearing a board suit that was purchased for him two years ago for our vacation to Lake Placid. All I can say is, you should have seen it before I cut out the floaty inserts to make a little more room for him in the crotch area.



How's that suit treatin' ya, Scuba Steve?


2. Cooper is fearless. He invented a new game last night which consisted of him walking to the side of the pool and just stepping in, assuming (or maybe not) someone would be there to catch him. He got a nice cut on his eyebrow which will probably scar a la Luke Perry (think the 90210 years and not the full frontal shot from Oz).

Christmas Memories

I remember Christmas 2008 fondly. Gabe and I had quite the blast.

That is all...

Classic Waakoop photo

I found this classic photo taken just one year ago. It was during one of my lectures to Cooper about who knows what. Probably about the tiring but necessary fiduciary responsibility of despotic regimes.

And on the importance of being appropriately dressed.

Put some clothes on, hippie.

White Puppy, avert thine eyes.

That is all...

I'm a Rocket Man

Guidance? Check.
Telemetry? Check.
Weapons? Check.
Desire to fly out to space and rain terror on my enemies? Double check.

That is all...

Red Team Wins

Today I...

went to the Aquarium. I saw many amazing things. I liked the whale sharks best. I especially like how the little fish follow the largest around. I will be a great leader like that some day.

Later, Coop and I played chicken, but were not allowed to do so in the water. So we battled out of the pool. I of course won. My dad, inept as he is, is still taller and placed a solid kick to mommy's knees.

In this picture, I am saluting Cooper, wishing him a good match. I of course don't really mean this, but the forms must be observed.

My prize was pizza. Which I used my Matrix fast skillz to eat.

The day was not all sunshine and roses, however. Here I have been told that I cannot, under any circumstances, have my own ginormous aquarium. I had great plans for its use. Sharks, lasers, pirana, and man o' war would serve as strong incentive to my enemies and subjects alike.

That is all...

I {heart} Chuck

Some of you nerds may think I'm talking about that mediocre NBC sitcom "Chuck," in which a nerdy dude (you empathize) gets to kick ass and tap a tasty piece (you dream).

Nay, I refer to The Chuck, the killa, the unstoppable Chuck Norris. My shirt is an homage to his power. It reads, "Chuck Norris is the reason Waldo is hiding."

I do appreciate Chuck for his skillz - though mine outmatch him. I truly admire him for the RESPECT he commands, though. Seems that around here people (COOPER) are forgetting who runs the show and who is supreme ruler of the Sunroom, Living Room, and basically the whole house. I think if I could grow a killer 'stache, maybe Coop would recall that I, like Chuck, will make his mind explode with my stare should he displease me again. Say by eating my fraking cookie. "Oh he's so cute and cuddly and don't get mad at him for eating your last nilla wafer, he doesn't know any better." Bullshit. That kid is going to get a roundhouse to the noggin, and how.

Chuck - you and I know what it means to be disrespected. But you have mastered how to regulate. Teach Me.

That is all...

My Young Padawan

Coop and I sometimes go on walks, where we discuss many topics and get to know each other better. Today's topic,
"The Advantages of Dictatorship Over Meritocracy from an Economic, Sociopolitic, and Security Perspective"*

Sometimes we just talk about American Idol. Adam Lambert is clearly the most polished, but Kris Allen is sooooo adorable!


* this is a trademarked name - I sell my lectures on Audible.com.

That is all...

Because I Said So!

The Waakabee does NOT want to take a bath, so you can go frak yourself.

That is all...

You're In MY World

Today I...

...reestablished my dominence over the Coop. It may be his birthday and party, but it's MY WORLD and I can take his cake if I want to. He should have offered it up as an offering like the rest of my good monkeys do, but I'll take it by force if necessary.

I {heart} cake. Especially yours, Coop.

That is all...

Even Tyrants Get Sleepy

Today I...

...cuddled with mommy.

Until I'm old enough to have my own bed made of the finest linens and softest mattresses... mommy works best.

That is all...

Shenanigans

Today I...

...am doing the paperwork that comes along with being a supreme ruler. You know, death warrants, citations, orders approving water-boarding, troop movement, and various poems & haikus about how much I love ice cream and despise peasants. Aunt Jenn is helping me with the work load. Truth be told, her penmanship is sub-par, but when you're at my level, you have to put up with some level of incompetency from everyone.

Later Taneille spontaeously offered to by personal valet and footstool. Just kidding, I gave her a severe lashing to teach her some manners and persuade her to see things my way. Red heads. Sheesh.

Then I showed her what eating a ginormous Cheeto would be like.

And that naturally led us into a discussion about Mardi Gras. I explained what I had seen the ladies doing on "Girls Gone Wild: Sheaux Me Your Teets" (nice DVD collection dad!)

...and it turns out that Aunt Jenn has a tramp stamp (naughty!)...

So I got to thinking... I should let Taneille write on my belly. Why? I think that whole Mel Gibson facial war paint in order to intimidate foes is so very 1991. I'm more into Tupac (R.I.P.) and his belly tatt that said something (and I'm paraphrasing) like, "I dig chicks. And AK's. And F*&^ the Police. Oh, shit someone's shooting at me," and then he died.

Not that I want to die, but I want to convey that same badass image.

Wait, why do I need ink to do that? I've got that covered in my look of steel.

That is all...

Double Word Score

Today I...

...won at Scrabble.


The word is "Frak", as in "Frak you I win, bitches."

That is all...

Chicken Food

What do I and a 4 lb Guatemalan fighting cock named "El Diabillo" have in common?

Many things.

1. We are killers.
2. We enjoy sleeping on a bed of feathers*.
3. We eat gravel to aid in digestion. Good for the gut & gizzard.
4. We go CRAZY at the sound of a good Alux Nahual song.

*Mine happen to be stuffed into a mattress/pillow/cover. His happen to be the feathers of his enemies, plucked for both their softness and as "coup" or trophies of war.

That is all...

Hello Future Key Chain

Even future dictators/world emperors like soft and fuzzy bunnies. I mean, I also kind of can't wait until he lines the collar of my emperor cloak, but until that day, he's fun and cute and cuddly and soft and warm and lovely and I want to keep him forever.

That is all...

Ground Control to Major Tom

The Waakabee aspires to be an astronaut. Correction. He aspires to be an Astro-Viper. Having the ability to rain terror down on my foes from the nigh-unreachable edge of space is something every growing boy dreams of. Note the similarities:

My dad was so excited at the prospect of being an astronaut that I had to let him try on the helmet. It was kind of a pity thing, like letting the snotty kid at school have your last kleenex because well you know he needs it and the social interaction of just handing him this one tissue will make his day if not his week and besides he's just so fraking pathetic that you want to yell, "take this kleenex and wipe your damn nose, kid!"

Look at this simpleton. The insipid slack-mouthed cow-eyed smile. You can practically hear "JINX PUT MAX IN SPACE" going through his brain. What a toolio.

That is all...

Goodbye Gunkels

Fare thee well to my favorite back yard neighbors, the Gunkels.

They are moving to Kansas City, that shanty town on the river that wishes it was St. Louis. Not that I give two shits about St. Louis, either, but I figure if I need to setup a Midwest capital (for my empire will be divided into provinces with regional capitals), why not do it where they invented watered down American beer? Plus their baseball team has at least gone to the World Series recently. Suck on that Royals.

I will sorely miss Miss Jessica's cookies and I know my parents will miss inviting themselves over for coffee. How Mr. Josh never slapped my dad around and taught him some respect is beyond me. If I had the reach I would.

And Jadon - don't forget that you are still my pick for governor of Latin Americaville. The Mighty Mayan and El Waakabee can show those people how to be great.

That is all...

Grill Master

You may think that I'm cleaning the grill to help prepare for dad's cooking of tasty meats. Maybe I am. Or maybe I'm readying the grill to roast the internal organs of my enemies, before eating them with some Chianti and blanched asparagus.

You decide.

That is all...

Combat Training - Liberty Town

Today I did some combat effectiveness and PT drills with my number two, Freddie.

We took to the local park where they have some highly useful apparatus and did drills to increase our endurance, our agility, our combat skillz, and strength.

First, a run through the jungle gym, or as I like to call it, "Blue Playground of Death."

Next, a fight atop "Survivor's Rock." Two men ascend, only one man summits. Here you can see Freddie taking a stab at playing King of the Mountain, but I have the high ground. Don't try it Skywalker. I'll slice off your limbs faster than you can say "George Lucas credit default-swapped my childhood".

When finished, we rush down to our parents' picnic area and engage in hand-to-hand combat training. Or maybe I'm just getting a high five for stomping Freddie's ass. You decide.

Lastly, we take a break to hang out on the fence and watch the nearby train go over the tracks. It's awesome. Oh, and our deadly fighting skillz and overall prowess have attracted one of the lovely ladies in the area. This I let Freddie take care of. I have too much global domination and terror planning to do to be distracted by the fairer sex.

That is all...

Birthday Party!

Well, if you can believe it, I have survived three years under my parents' inept care. And I have thrived. Proving that what doesn't kill you, you will have an opportunity to kill later in life.

We'll be partying up at the Little Gym later today, if you care to join us. My crew and I will be rocking out, bounce-housin', watching our dads hit on the tasty trim that works there, and generally going apeshit while high on juice boxes, birthday cake, and Goldfish.

Oh, and cover charge is 1 awesome present. None of that Go Diego Go crap, either. Protecting the rain forest is for *%$$^!$.



That is all...

Don't Pisgah Me Off!

Today I...

went to Pisgah National Forest.

Checked out Asheville and the surrounds as a possible future base of operations. Every good Evil Genius needs a mountain redoubt, an alpine fortress, a rocky home away from evil home.

First stop, the Pisgah National Forest. Some dope bought this, and then his kids squandered their inheritences so trivially that they were forced to "gift" it to the good people of the US.

Dumbasses. If you're rich, how hard is it to stay rich? Not that hard! Just hire some peasants, teach them to manage the land, and stay rich on their hard work, blood, and tears. It's a classic model that has worked for THOUSANDS of YEARS, and these d.a.'s managed to frak it up in one generation. Seriously.

Anywho...I think I'll put my castle riiiight over there.

Among other things, I had my mother push me around as I inspected the scenery, the waterfalls, and the local fauna.

I also used my time along the Blue Ridge to work on my Jedi hovering powers.

Also, I'm not sure, but I think should I claim this area as my own, there may be a strong guerrilla resistance in the area in the form of hillbillies. I look forward to the challenge, mountain men.

That is all...

Me and Grams

Just chillin' with my grandma. She's full of folk wisdom and tips on how to get people to do what you want. Plus she cooks some of the best food when she visits. And she provides copious amounts of TLC. That's right Grandma, I may not be the oldest grandchild, but I am the best. You know it. You sooooo know it.


That is all...

Four Generations. Of AWESOMENESS.

Here we have four generations of my dad's maternal side. It proves that my dad is an aberration both physically and mentally. Not in a good way.

In the pic is me (duh), my dad (derrr), Nannie, and Grandma BJ. Oh and Mom and Coop to boot.

And someone stinks. That's all I'm saying. Wait, it may be me. Yep. It's me. Change me, monkey.


That is all...

Frackin' Amateur Night at the Hunt

Watching these n00bs go out and try to hunt for Easter eggs causes me great mental distress. They're all like "Mommy mommy I see one behind that tree!" and, "Daddy, look at the pretty eggs on the ground!" I mean REALLY?! You're just going to sit there and yell out the location of your spotted treasure, your goal, and expect your competition not to swoop in and get it? You think that the Khmer Rouge, the VC, or Russkies would honor some gentleman's agreement and let you have the egg because you saw it first and were dumb enough to broadcast to the world that THERE IT IS AND IT'S SO PRETTY AND WHAT DO I DO, OH PICK IT UP? YOU MEAN WITH MY HANDS? DADDY CAN YOU HELP ME?! Just for that, Ry-dog and I are going to sweep in, grab your precious eggs, crack them open, and eat the delicious candy contents right in front of your face. Then when we get sooper buzzed on the sugar and are vibrating like U235 hit with a couple spare neutrons, we're gonna puke on your Go Diego Go t-shirt and laugh all the way home.

You'd think these monkeys had never been to an Easter Egg Hunt before - alright granted they likely haven't. But the concepts are the same as supporting Special Forces 100 klicks behind enemy lines in a hotly contested region- search, locate, extract, all while maintaining comm blackout. Or if you see the enemy is closer, then destroy them before they can be captured and spill your secrets. Common knowledge.

Cheese and Rice, people! Get your sh$t sorted out! This isn't some day at the park. It's frackin' Easter! It's do or die. Ryan back there knows what I'm talking about.

Hoppy Easter, suckers.

That is all...

Oldie but goodie

Ever wonder what would make a cat's eyes light up like lasers?

How about a full-on shot of my awesome package?



That's right kitty. It's electric. Woogie woogie woo-gee.

That is all...

Rock on.

I sure do love listening to the Sun Tzu podcast on my Bose Quiet Comfort 2 headphones. Or am I listening to the Backyardigans? Don't be too hasty to judge. The show is an excellent lesson on group dynamics. And how to use a fantasy role-playing to control your plebs.

Note to Bose - please endorse me.

That is all...

I am his Mr. Miagi

First learn stand, then learn fly. Nature rule, Cooper-san, not mine.

That is all...

It's No Lantean Control Chair...

Today I...

Began trying to reprogram Cooper's chair to suit my malicious needs. I used to rock out in this thing all day and dream up plans of world domination, ponder the ethics of being a deity, etc. etc.

Now that Coop's here, the Chair has been reassembled. Since the Drooler is busy elsewhere, I take the opportunity to try and hacking this baby.

What I'm envisioning is a way to activate various electronic jamming devices, super weapons, death rays, and possibly a trapdoor or something with this guy. Sync be damned, this beotch will have Bluetooth.

A HUD is not out of the question, though I may stick with a traditional LCD panel and touchscreen interface.

Right now the software is in R&D, but it will likely come from some SE Asian province, where my likeness is undoubtedly already on their money, statues, public parks, and public buildings. The internet is a beautiful thing. To monkeys everywhere. The Waakabee sends his greetings.




That is all...

COOLEST day, to date.

When I think of all the cool days ahead of me, many things come to mind. The day I get my driver's license. The day I get my right to carry permit. The day I conquer the world. The day I get my first manly chest hair. The day I get to see a live action Silverhawks movie, starring Matthew McConaughey as Bluegrass.

However, none of these compares to today. Today I went to see Lightning McQueen in person. Live, in the autobody flesh, one of my heroes.

Here in this picture I bow my head in reverence to him. He is great. He is fast. He is LIGHTNING. Frackin' A.

This event was not mine alone to experience - I met up with my consigliere, Frederick. Or, as he sometimes likes to be called when we play Miami Vice, "Rico".

I've long since learned that you cannot conquer the world alone. Although I have no plans to share power, I do need loyal and able henchmen to assist me. Freddie is my number two, my William Riker, my Robin, my Starbuck. He and I have successfully planned and executed no fewer than a dozen high risk jobs in the last year.


Together, we are unstoppable. Even when we get our signals crossed, as evidenced by this photo.

We ran all over the place, checking out the sweet rides at the event, and the hot chicks...

...plotting the take down of the world, practicing our Matrix fight moves (note we move faster than even a camera computer chip can register!)...

...and the seemingly most mundane but ultimately useful skill, running from the cops.

Ah Fred, the future we'll have. Stick with me, and we'll go far. Oh, and don't plan on going Brutus on me. I read Julius Caesar. (bet you didn't know it comes in a board book format!)

That is all...

Thank Goodness He's Not Toydarian

Today I...

Have been working on brainwashing Cooper.

Here I'm telling him that mom and dad don't love him as much as they do me, but that's ok. I'm here to help. He needs only me. He wants to make me happy, and be my peon. I mean 2nd in command! Almost let that one slip.

I also remind him that my room, the bathroom, mom & dad's room, all the TVs, all toys and books, and the entire downstairs is all mine. He can have his room, for now, and of course the backyard. I will also be offering him security/safe transport between his room and the outside world for an affordable $5 per trip, payable at a later date. I mean there are monsters out there, and we wouldn't want anything to happen to him, would we?

I established an account for him in the Caymans, into which I will pay his wages (earned at my discretion for acts and services to be determined by me at a later date), and out of which I will withdraw his afforementioned "security fee", his "little brother fee", "having the Waakabee talk to me fee", and "in the presence of his majesty, 'The B' fee".

Currently, his bank account has a balance of -$362.54. He's only 15 days old, so he better get crackin' on the growing and developing so that he can start earning cash by being my adjutant.

Of course I tell him all this in the only way a newborn can truly understand it. With the eyes. It's all right there. I learned that from Caesar Millan.

That is all...

Super-sizer working...

Global domination by crushing everything under my super-sized feet to follow.

That is all...

My army is growing...

That's right...growing. Meet my baby brother.. Cooper. Together, as leader guy and underling (me being the leader guy - hello!), we shall rule the world....or at least Georgia. It's peachy, you know.

From the vault

From the vault comes a little video gem for you. Waakabee in his young gloriousness. I'm hanging with my parents during the Christmas season, and allowing them to revel in my company.

You can clearly hear the delight and joy in their voices. It's almost palpable.

Take this video and savor it, monkeys. This is likely as close as you will ever come to being in my presence. More's the pity.

Here's a behind-the-scenes tidbit for you Waakabee buffs out there. See if you can discern what my father is up to in the background. Here's a hint. It involves blasters, droids, and a refusal to accept that he's a grown man.

That is all...

Grooming is for suckers

Today I... refused to be groomed.

My parents in all their insipidness believe that I need my hair brushed after bathing. While I can understand their deep need to touch me and feel my silky locks and all their glory (just as the unwashed masses want to reach out and touch their idols), this need to style my hair to suit their needs baffles me.

Do you not understand, monkeys, that the Waakabee chooses his own style (or mode , if you will)?

As you can see, my mother persists in her efforts until she is forced to manhandle me. Way to use your adult strength and power to overcome my free will. Typical abuse by a totalitarian regime. If I wasn't the victim, I would applaud you.

But instead I weep, for now I look like a douchebag. Thanks, mom.

I {heart} the playground

A new playground opened near mi casa. It has everything a growing tyrant needs to get into peak physical condition: copious obstacles, monkey bars, rock climbing, agility drills, and most importantly, a SLIDE. Wheeeeeeee!

I like to come down here not only for the exercise, but to spread the gospel of Waakabee amongst the populace. Depending on the audience, I could be saying, "The time is coming. Waakabee will set us all free," or "You're so toast when I get my first armed force together," or "hey baby, ever wondered what it'd be like to be a concubine?"



On top of all this, there is a train track very close by. I must admit I get excited like a silly little school girl at a Hannah Montana concert when I see the trains. I also like to chart their schedule and speed. This info could be useful for planning delivery of arms, contraband, or catching a lift to evade the fuzz.

Now, back to the slide. Wheeeeee!!

Bubbles help release the Evil within

Today I took a bubble bath!

And so this may seem like a playful and innocent bubble bath to you. But as with all things Waaka, the seemingly benign turns out to be something much much more important and exciting.

So what was I up to in my bubble bath? First I check my trusty watch, which I stole off my dad. It says that it's time. Time to what? Time to rock? Time to party? Time to get ill?

No, it's time to try my force lightning. I've been focusing on all my anger and hate and disappointment in this life (e.g. I still don't own an M-60), and then visualizing nasty purple bolts from my hands and my dad's head exploding into a fine pink mist.

First I dip my hand in the water, cause we all know that water helps electricity.

Then I concentrate, and then I try my powers on dad...

But the Dark Side fails me. Oh well. I've still got years to work on it. I mean, that whiney bitch Hayden Christensen didn't get them until he was like 19 years old...

Kids on Parade

What with all the hoopla, appliance sales, fireworks, and barbeqeues, I figured I might as well join in the celebrations for the USA's bday. I mean it's not yet the country I plan to make it when I rule the world*, but I guess it's not such a bad place. Plus, if you're a cute little boy who waves a little flag and pretends to be excited, you get free hot dogs and cupcakes at nearly any place in the damn country on July 4th.

So I helped organize a little parade in my school, which I meant to be an exercise in coordinating troop movements in close quarter combat situations. But it really turned into a giant CF, a term I learned from my mom.

But, I was excited that mom showed up. Some days I like her. Some days I want to sell her into bondage for cheap. Today is more like the former.



But then my dad showed up. What a tool. Look at that hair. What is that, a hedgehog on your enormous forehead? I soooo don't like you.

That is all...

Ahhh, Summer

Today I...

 

Learned that it's fun to smash your face on glass window panes. While visiting Nannie and Poppa in NH, I left little reminders of me on their front door, in the form of face oil and saliva. They should never clean that window again, to preserve my gifts. Of course, that would make them gross and untidy people. Maybe call out the local CSI team and have this stuff lifted off the glass, then frame it and put it over the mantel, for all to see and gaze in wonder. "That's where the great Waakabee blew zerberts on our front door!"

Love me, monkeys.

 

Then I went around back, to see where the heck everyone was... and I was startled to see everyone just sitting in a large group, posing. I walked up to mom to ask what the hell was going on, and she forced me into her lap just as I heard some camera clicking. I guess I failed to see the photographer when I walked around the corner. Guess I had a little too much juicy juice, if you know what I mean.

 

So now you can see all the wretched filth I'm related to, thanks to my dad's funky genes. Whole lot of winners in there, pops.

That is all...

Ralphie Gone!

My fearless Spanish gatoquistador has gone missing. He regulary escapes this madhouse to explore the yard and terrorize the neighborhood moles, snakes, and micefolk. Who doesn't like to take a break to subjegate the weak?

Anywho, he took one of his near-daily constitutionals and was last seen within sight of the front door, surveying his domain. Mom yelled to him, "hey get inside!" and he was all like, "Peese off. I do as I please." She then reminded Dad (who was spending yet more hours playing Marvel Ultimate Alliance) to let Ralphie in when he came up to bed. Needless to say, Dad never did remember to get the cat, and that was the last we ever saw of Ralphie.

We've put up fliers, and poked around all the nearby bushes, cat clubs, and drag bars, but he has not been seen. Mom says we'll give up hope in a few weeks and then can get a pair of kittens to replace him, since he was such an awesome cat, and awesomeness which cannot be duplicated in a single cat must instead be met by a large quantity of mediocre cats.

Thanks Dad. Hope you enjoyed ruining my childhood memories. I'm totally scarred.

Blogging is hard work

Today I...

Have been busy reviewing and editing the blog. It's not easy being one's own editor. But it's not like I can trust the other monkeys around here to do it for me! "Self reliance", according to Emerson, is one's most important trait. I agree. Right after "ability to kill one's enemies with ninja-like efficiency". That's a pretty important trait, too.

Been watching Ali G...

Today I'se...

Practicing me dance moves in the car park. Reckognise, I'se cool like dat.

Clearly me pops is mad dazzled by me skillz and flavah. He's like nevah seen moves like dis since the days of electro pop. Roger dat, you soddin' lump. I'm chill like dat.

Sometimes I like to pretend like I'm Ali G, who's from London, and a hip-hopper. You have to admit, I do have some sweet flow. And the chicks dig me. I've got a nice whip, and I definitely have mad street cred. So, really, it's not that much of a stretch. Holla!

Then sometimes I see a fly bird, and I have to stop her and be like, " 'sup boo? Why don't you come back to my place and we can get our snack on? My moms is serving 'nilla wafers. Of course, you're the only snack I need, cause you look D-E-E-L-I-S-H-U-S !"

(fyi, I'm just learning my ABC's, so cut me some slack).

Then when I'm done playing Ali G, I like to actually go eat those nilla wafers and get my juice on. Cause pimpin' ain't easy.

Bounce bounce, y'all

Sometimes you smother yourself in fishnet and feel a little sassy. That's when you say in your best Big Gay Al voice...

Heyyyyyyy Girls!!

Really, I was just chillin' on my Grandpa Mike's trampoline. You know how it is. Run around, bounce your ass off, get black crap all over your fancy pants. Smart choice in attire for a toddler, dad!

Turns out, this thing is a blast. The only downside? G-Mike made me repair it.

Trick's on him. I stole one of the springs. Happy landings, suckers!

Later, Uncle Cole and I took a break from playing to relax and free up some Chakra, a little Chi, and also some Yoga energy center stuff. I believe this kind of meditation is called "Energy Manipulation". You may know it by it's more common name,"Crap".

That is all...

Waakabee conquers Republic of Texas. Again.

We all know how Texans can be. Rebellious. Loud. Stinky. Loud. Prideful. Unwashed. It makes one wonder how these Texans got along without me. Perplexing.

So despite having successfully toured the state last year and received assurances of their fealty to me, I felt compelled to return and cement their allegience. I started with the Metroplex (That's Dallas Fort Worth, monkeys), and relaid the foundations for a successful Cult of the B following.

Their love of all things Waakabee is so strong that I have to sometimes hide to protect myself.

Just kidding. I'm playing Peekaboo, y'all!

You may show your pleasure.

I caught up with Grandpa Mike, Grandma Caren, Uncle Cole, and Aunt Rachel. I met Cheyenne, the family hamster (they swear it's a Schnauzer), and enjoyed the warm weather.

On the flight down, I suffered from a quick bout of Restless Waaka Syndrome. The cure? Dad's iron-like arms encircled around me, preventing me from escaping. He paid for this insolence on the ride home, when I had an even stronger bout of RWS. This time, I made myself "That baby". You know "that baby" that wouldn't shut up on the flight, and "that baby" that screamed himself hoarse and "that baby" that should have been checked with the carseat (I mean there's air in the cargo section, right?). My father paid the price for preventing the B from doing what the B does best, which is WHATEVER HE WANTS. I believe the thirty minute lesson I delivered to my dad on the return flight will make him think twice about keeping me from my freedom again.

Anywho, hangin' with G-Mike was fun. He looks a lot like me, which is cool. I recommend everyone consider altering their appearance to mimic my own cherubic features (G-Mike is blessed to naturally have these good looks). I asked him what's been happening since last year. He said, "Working for the man, trying to make a living." Then I reminded him that he is The Man. "Oh yeah," he says. Hello!

Uncle Cole and Aunt Rachel were fun, too. They took special interest in me, since I'm officially the shortest person they know, not counting the family squirrell Cheyenne. Grandma Caren moved too fast and I chastised her for it. She should know Waakabee likes to take it slow with the ladies. I'm no holla back boy.

Of course Uncle Cole and Aunt Rachel couldn't keep their hands off me, same as all of the B's fervent worshippers. However, there is such a thing as "too much touchy feely". Back off, monkeys. The Waakabee needs his space.

This trip was a great success. Had a blast, rocked the state, and ate my 4x body weight in beef.

THANK YOU TEXAS!


That is all...

Today we...

...watched Tech lose to West Virginia. I was glad that Reggie got his fool self sidelined because of bad grades. That let Patrick Nix use the best QB we have, T. Bennett. He played very well.

Oh snap, we just scored!!

My uncle Colin will be attending WVU in the fall. Or, as dad likes to call it, "Hillbilly U." Uncle Colin says he has chosen this school because most of the chicks have only been with their brothers or fathers, and that doesn't count, so it's kinda like they're all virgins. Right on. Way to make a positive out of your decision.

Today I...

...practiced my three-point stance. I'll be ready for those Dawgs, when the time comes. And that, technically, is like eighteen years away. But, I'll be ready.

I also practiced my game face. This is me looking mean. Or, basically, how I look at my subjects every day. Rule by intimidation.

Then I practiced my skillz on a moving target, to simulate my d-end attack. I chose my toy Hummer truck. It's tough looking, but ultimately all flash and bravado, much like those UGA backs. Hence, it was the perfect choice.

I got down in my stance...

And then I jumped offsides and ate some pavement. Stoopid slopey driveway.

Dad said to "rub some dirt on it kid, and get back in the game."

What an ass. I just faceplanted on concrete.

So I say, "Dad, I'm this close to kicking you in the jimmy, you lump. Stop taking parenting lessons from Brittany Spears. I'm going inside to have some teddy grahams. "

That is all...

Almost enough for a Coke pencil!

Sometimes, I like to dance. Sometimes I like to play Coke Rewards. Sometimes I like to be naked.


Sometimes, I like to do them all at once.

I just scored ten points! Happy dance... Doin' the happy dance. Being happy. Being free.


That is all...

Cake and Balloons are soooo last August.

We recently celebrated Gaberdoody's first birthday. Got yourself a cake and a little party? Well I did it first, so I win.


Here Gia is showing off her fancy boa and handbag. If I was Gabe, I'd lay the smack down. I'd say, "It's my party, sis. Reckognize." Then I'd drop an atomic elbow on her and steal the boa for myself. Dudes can wear boas, especially if they're electric purple. I believe I saw Prince do this. So it must be ok.


Here Gabey has done something truly worth celebrating. He made a huge fracking mess. He basically took a nice little personal cake and performed some "Tiger Style" Gabe-jitsu on it, causing it to explode. All the while Aunt Dana and Grandma look on in shock and reverence. He truly has amazed them with his "cake crusher" finishing moves.

Bravo, Gabo.


That is all...

Check out my whip

You know I ride in style. And at times, I like to ride shirtless, like a young Dylan McKay. I feel the soft sea breezes in my hair, and long to talk to Brenda...

How's Paris? Yeah, Brandon and I are keeping busy... Speaking of getting busy, did you know I banged your hot albino friend Kelly? It was totally worth it.


That is all...

These are not the Droids you are looking for

Halloween has come upon us rapidly, and I have chosen this time to use my powers in the Force. I will bend weak minds to my will and make them give me candy. For FREE. You must always play to your strenghths and hide your weaknesses. I will guard my weakness for candy by displaying my strength in bending people to my will.

You: "Oh, he's so cute! He's a little yoda!"
Me: "That's right, monkey. You adore my cuteness. Now gimme some candy."

Cha-ching, people.



In this photo, I am being led by one of my servants around the parking lot of my school. All around the circumference of the lot are my loyal subjects, clapping and cheering for me. Other children in costume march behind me, clearly mimicking my actions, but I know all the people are here for the B. The Waakabee has arrived, monkeys. You may show your pleasure.



Here I am focusing my power on my hat, trying to make it adjust itself. My hands are full of candy (unpictured), so I must use the Force alone. Do, or do not. My ear is cold.


Later in the day, we went to another part of town to join in a costume parade. We met up with the rest of my crew. My cousins, Aunts, and Uncles met us there and we proceeded to take the 'hood by storm.



Here a local resident falls prey to my cuteness and charm.

I feel that costumes are not chosen randomly. Each speaks to the wearer. I dressed like Yoda to show that I, like the little green Master, am small yet powerful. My skills may be overlooked because of my diminuitive stature, but make no mistake I have great strength. The only thing I lack is that cool pimp cane that Yoda had.



Hank the Tank dresses as a Teddy Graham, because he is tasty and delicious. He also makes Uncle Brad cart him around. A bold show of strength, Hank. Make your dad do the work. I like your gumption. Sophie (background) dresses as a Barbie princess because she has a commanding presence and likes to be doted upon. She also likes plastic dudes with big hard pec muscles and no genitalia. Much like mommy. Aunt 'manda serves as her lady-in-waiting.



Gaberdoody dresses as a parrot/dragon, because he is a colorful character, yet like me has inner strength. He also likes to sit on a giant pile of treasure and eat crackers.




That is all...

OZ - The Baby Years

Life in clan Waakabee is all about ebb and flow. It's about position and pecking order. When one of my lieutenants disgraces the clan, they disgrace me. And sometimes lessons must be taught.

Perfect example: We were out at Cagle farms, checking out the Corn Maize (sic). The 'rents are distracted as they try to line us up for roll call. As such, from left to right are my minions: Gaberdoody, Hank the Tank, Gia, and Slophie all lined up for a photo. I used this opportunity to command HTT to get some playhouse retribution on Gia! As you can see, he's made a shiv out of cornstalk, and is in mid stab. Great action shot. Really catches the family dynamic.

Consider this a lesson, Gia. I mean business.

But then my next most-trusted bruiser, Gaberdoo, decides to use the confusion to strike back at me, showing his solidarity with Gia! As you can see, I blocked his feeble jab with my "paint the fence" move. You got off easy, sucka. Next time, I'm gonna sweep the leg.




That is all...

Keeping an eye out for Jeepers Creepers bat-demon dude

Here we are, cruising in the Corn Maize (sic). It was fun. And more than a little corny.

It's called a pun. Laugh, monkeys!

Next time, I'm bringing some torches and we'll chase people around the field, pretending we're Children of the Corn. I'll be Malachi. You can be the weirdo leader kid. He was lame, anyway.

My Father's College Days, Reprised

We recently went to Amy's [future]* house to have a dinner party and watch Battlestar Galactica. It was fracktastic.

The cuisine was excellent - a fine Mexican meal the likes of which my father craves. The beverages were even better.

I began the night merely sipping on tasty cold beverages. But as you can see, I degenerated faster than Lindsay Lohan at a cocktail bar.

Kneel to me monkeys! Stop laughing and KNEEL!

I got a sugar rush from the soda I was given, and soon, I found myself running around, acting the fool. My pants were soaked. My shirt was drenched. I was crazy happy one minute, then sad the next.

Look at me, I'm crazy cup head! Now gimme some candy!

This is a picture of Amy judging me.

I was later told that my actions were precisely those of my father on any given weekend between 1995 and 2000.

Woops! Damn floor is tricky.

Here is a picture of Kate, also judging me.

BSG is awesome. That's a given. And mexican buffet kicks ass. But above and beyond that, the B rocks the party.

Wooo wooooo!!!

*Amy will soon marry Brian, and then she can officially take over his house as her own.

That is all...

The force is with me

That is all...

Ass

Yeah, you know it.
That is all...

The B, in Ever Sharper Detail

Check out Dad's new camera! You can see my individual cells' nuclei with his new 380.3 MP camera. Too bad a $700 camera doesn't make you less of a tool, pops.
That is all...

Move over, Oedipus.

The B is exhausted. So I take le nap on my favorite shoulder, mommie's.
That is all...

It's Dog eat Monkey, Rat eat Rat.

If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you never back down. I think you'll find my jaws of steel will prevail, Charlie!
That is all...

He's bringing sexy back

Esto es mi padre. He looks better in the dark, ladies.
That is all...

Fret not, monkeys.

I am still recovering from my lengthy trip to our nation's capital with my parents. I have many photos and stories to tell.

I have also recently hit several milestones in my young life that you shouldbe made aware of, so that you can properly bask in my glory.

That is all...

Vive la Waaka

This is Napoleon. He was a great leader and better yet, a great general. As such, I have much to learn from him. Like when to NOT attack Russia (late summer). Or how to successfully be banished (get sent to a tropical locale, and when bored quietly rally the old gang). Someday the world will tremble before a new petite menace. Waakalemagne.

I think his belly itches. Mine does sometimes, too, mon freur.

Now I must take le nap.

That is all...

George Bush = country boy (Aw Naw)

When rollin' through the streets of DC, it's important to keep up one's image and style.

Here I show W how the Waaka does the gangsta lean. Get crunk, dubya! Washington DC in the houuuuuse!
That is all...

We The People, of these Waaka States...

This is a very special room in Philadelphia. As you can see, I was granted sole and private access.



Here I am in the room where the Declaration of Independence was signed. And the Constitution was drafted. And where Lee Greenwood once spontaneously combusted from the energy and fire of national pride after having just stepped in the room. It's a very powerful place.

Someday, people will come from miles around to see the places that Waakabee did dramatic things. First steps. First painting. First manifesto. First battle (and victory). First conquered land. First concubine (of many)... The people shall revel in my historic significance. I can hardly friggin' wait.

That is all...

Project Serpentor Thwarted!!

We went to sunny Philadelphia after Uncle Toro's wedding. I had plans for this trip. Until I was rudely stopped!



I was just told by dad that we will not be digging up Ben Franklin's grave. I had hoped to steal some of his DNA, to help me construct my ultimate sidekick/mad scientist crony. DNA samples from the Founding Fathers, mixed with my own (for brilliance) and some of Ralphie's (for agressiveness) and Annie's (for sheer size and wookie-ness) will help me engineer brilliant killing machines and minions. I mean that was the whole point of this friggin' trip, right?

How is the Waakabee supposed to conquer North America by age 4 without his Franklinstein, Wahingdrone, or Jeffersonofthedevil?! [Yes, I came up with nicknames for them. Every good evil person has a handle.] Project Serpentor cannot fail; I'm too close to acheiving my goals!

You are an ass, dad. This insolence will not go unpunished.
That is all...

Delaware. Gateway to New Jersey.

So here we are in the lobby of the hotel in Delaware, visiting for Uncle Toro's wedding. Note the concern with which mommy is attending to me. Did you even notice, crazy lady, that my outfit clashes? Take me to the pool. The Waakabee wishes to frolick in the water.
That is all...

Waakafest '06

Follow me to...

Waakafest '06! That's right monkeys, it's time to celebrate all things Waaka and revel in my greatness. I know you do this every day, but today is extra special. We're celebrating the best 12 months known to Western civilization since the 12 months it took for people to invent, test, and fully market the churro.

In short, I am one year old, and this is my party.

I had many of my most valuable servants on hand and lots of hangers-on and sycophants, all there to amuse me.

Missing were the Mariachi Band, a donkey, a monk with a staff, a wizard, an orangutan, and a trained, killer chinchilla with laser eyes. Maybe next year, dad, you won't disappoint.

Despite these shortcomings, the party was off the chain. So much so that at one point I was got naked. Who doesn't love a naked B?


We ate cake, we told stories of my feats, we mused on the future of the world, and more specifically the future of Rhode Island. Here's a fun fact: Once I come to power, Rhodey will become one huge super Wal-mart/Ikea. It's on my list of "Things To Do Once I Conquer the World". I mean everyone loves Ikea, and Super Wal-Marts... plus those yankees up there looove a good bargain.

When the cake was served, I was pretty pumped. Until I tasted it. I asked for a Betty Crocker cake. I clearly received a Pilsbury cake. You know that chubby white biscuit in a hat ain't got nothin' on my boo Betty! Next time it's gotta be the Crock or I'm liable to go postal. Don't think about pullin' this Pilsbury crap again. Same goes for Duncan Hines. That British bugger is a d-bag.

Again, despite the disappointment, I decided to cruise around the joint to meet some honeys and talk to my boys.


And I came across this one trick who was all like, "Nice party, Waaka. Shame you have no lemonade, though." Does Waakabee have to smack a b*&^% ? It's Waaka's world. The only drinks here are beer, coke, milk, scotch, Fresca, and baby formula. Take your pick. And leave the attitude at the curb.


Later I ran into a fly chica named Amy. Turns out she's one of my many Aunts. She's pretty nice, though. And an AILCOWT. That's short for Aunt I'd Like to Chew On When Teething. Waddup hippy. Gimme some room in that lappy lap.


For those who missed the party, you should be sorry. Because you are sorry. (That's right, sorry has two meanings, couch potato no-vocab-having peons). For those who came, thanks for the gifts. Next year bring more.

And my first act of beneficence in the new Waaka year is to grant clemency to Ralphie for chewing my bottle nipples, to Charlie for eating some pacifiers, to Annie for eating some diapers, and to my parents for all the dumb stuff they make me say on this blog (DAD). You are forgiven. Dirty, you get no respite. I shall continue to torment you, as you are the weakest link in the Waakaworld chain.


HBD to me!! That is all...

Guess who's coming to dinner?

Who's the crazy lady wearing the chinese kite?

That's my Nanny. Or Nana. Or Nuni. Since I can't quite say more than "dada", "hi kitty", and "maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa", I haven't chosen what to call her.

But she's come to visit with Papa from New Hampshire. They are here for the Waakapalooza set to unfold this weekend.

They are filling their time with chores my dad has set them to. Such a smart cat, my dad. The only way to truly earn your parents' respect is to set them to task. Builds character, makes the yard look nicer, and teaches them the value of hard work. Good Nuni.

I have enjoyed being with them, mainly because they amuse me. Nanny sings and dances a lot, and I think may be a bit different. Papa makes me laugh with his funny faces and the way that he lets Uncle Colin beat up on him. And it amuses me that he loves All My Children more than a grown man should. Uncle Colin amuses me because of his ability to sleep until lunch and then play PS2 the rest of the day, when he's not texting one of his ho's. I must learn this skill of keeping several women in rotation. If you wear different socks each day, why not a different chica?

You see this? Dad's trying to blow bubbles at me. Is that supposed to interest me? Ass.

Back to the Yanquis in my house...I will continue to let them change my soiled britches, feed me, play with me, and pamper me. I always have wanted servents of my own (aside from my 'rents), and these seem to be willing subjects.

Feed me some apple slices, beeches. The B is feeling a bit peckish.

That is all...

I cannot be stopped.

You see this picture?
You may ask yourself, what is so special about this picture, oh Great One?

What do you see?
A couch. Ugly.
A basket. Filled with delightful toys and gifts from my loyal subjects.
Colored squares on the floor. To protect the Waakabee's hands and knees during my mob-ex (mobility exercises).
A framework. The lower half of my elevated eating throne.
A cute baby. Damn straight.
A cute baby holding a sippy cup.
A cute baby holding a sippy cup.
A CUTE BABY HOLDING A SIPPY CUP.

Liquid nutrition! Dispensed at my own pace and in an amount of my choosing!

I am capable of feeding myself! No longer will I rely on my parents or surrogates holding a bottle for me! No more rubber nipples. Except after I turn 18, and then only when the mood strikes and I have enough cash. From now on, I will carry my sippy with me and drink as I see fit. MLB and MRB closed a long time ago, and I had to accept the change to a bottle. Now I cast that anchor aside, and the soy hippy organic leftist liquid fed to me, and can drink god's sweet nectars - apple juice, fruit punch, 7up, grape juice... there is no limit!

The Waakabee is now on the fast track to cutting all ties to his infant life and nutrition shall be dispensed at my will!

The greatest of plans is unfolding and I am more than happy to say, gimme that sippy, bitches.
That is all...

My reach continues to grow...

What's up, simpletons? La vida de la Waaka is going quite well!

The Waakabee continues his amazing feats of growth and development. All should be proud of my accomplishments, but not too proud. I'm not some special case where advancement is to be lauded as amazing and rare. Likewise, too little attention should not be cast upon my development - I'm not some kid genius to whom advancements and acheivments are to be seen as trifles and "expected". BE HAPPY FOR ME, MONKEYS, BUT NEITHER TOO MUCH NOR TOO LITTLE HAPPY!

That said, I am clearly doing quite extraodinary things (but not tooo extraodinary) with these powerful piston legs. I can grasp any surface, any edge, be it a couch, a wagon wheel, a dog's flank, or an adult's pant leg and puuuuullll my tiny torso into the standing position. From this position, I can survey all of my dominion and be that much closer to slapping my mommy in the face without her having to lean over too far.

It shall not be long until these nimble ninja feet get the urge to move in other directions and I will provide my own bipedal locomotion. Beware, usurpers, the Waakabee stands tall in Mabletucky.


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Mobility is key to victory...

It is now confirmed, monkeys, that I am mobile.

I have completed testing of my personal locomotion apparatus and have begun crawling. I am now fully capable of moving anywhere I so choose, and I am able to move around or through smaller roadblocks and impediments.

In field tests, I have successfully traveled in a straight line. I have been able to perform right-hand and left-hand turns. I am capable of turning 360 degrees and going in reverse. Much like Optimus Prime, I can travel a great distance, and then transform into a killing machine complete with grasping arms and swiveling head in less than two seconds.

For my first field exercise, Operation Baby Thunder, I stalked Charlie across the room and successfully grabbed his tail. In my second exercise, Operation Smokey Bandit, performed in cooperation with Mommy, I was able to move from one room to another while being pursued at high speeds. In my final field exercise, I tested my mobile infant to havoc wreaker back to mobile infant capabilities in the living room, while the enemy (Daddy) was sanding and painting cabinets. I was able to move in, strike, and move out in less than 30 seconds, leaving a trail of sawdust and black interior semigloss paint. Needless to say, Operation Painted Hyena was a huge success.

I am now moving on to continued research in elevated warfare, having mastered raising up on one knee nearly a month ago.

I'm sure that it won't be long until I live up to my namesake and am capable of bi-pedal locomotion. Then all shall rue the day they mocked my previous inability to walk! Especially you, Ralphie! Your time is drawing near.

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Millions of fishes. All swimming and frolicking for the Waakabee.

Great way to spend $50...

We recently returned to the Aquarium with Uncle Jim and Aunt Jean. It was pretty fun. I saw lots of (you guessed it...) people and all kinds of pretty (you know it...) light fixtures. Like this one here. It reminded me of my time in the womb, all red and warm. Minus the squishy sack of goo I used to float in. And the weird cord on my belly.
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Seek the answer...

In this picture, Mommy is asking me who I hate most.
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And hear the painful truth...

My answer: YOU, SUCKA!!
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They're peeking at you!

Hey Uncle Jim, check out my sack!
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Pwned!

Made you look, fool!
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Waaka Aquatilis

Today I was taken to a delightful and whimsical place, the local water park. It is a location of endless revelry flooded with both water and human scum.

I must admit at first I was skeptical. All these urchin running around the park, screaming and screeching and acting like idiots! My first thought was, It's water people. Same as your shower, only open to the air and full of other peoples' pee. Let's not get too excited.


Fun Fact: I noticed that many trashy people bring their children here, apparently to bathe. This is some kids' only summer bath. Chew on that next time you are allowing your mouth to fill with water from the Silly Milly Mushroom Fountain!



I allowed my mother to chauffeur me around the big lazy river. Notice the human press all around. It is revolting. Mixing with these peasants?! I should have my own barge, rowed by coolies and servants. I should be eating all the cheerios I want while being fanned and cooled by slaves with palm fronds. Where are my trained pet seals, to frolick at my whim? I am the Waaka. I deserve to be praised, not trapped in some musty community life jacket stuck on the front of my mother's tube like a hood ornament.

All my discomfort aside, you know what would make the lazy river more exciting? Lazy river piranha. Lazily eating your flesh, while you lazily bleed to death floating on your inner tube. That's entertainment.



Here I am being placed on top of the output grate for the local water feature. This place offers a lot of strategic value. The Mongols used to poison the water supply of enemy towns to make them submit without a battle... If I was to place a poopy right here, my maliciousness could reach untold hundreds. Focus....focus.....Frack! It cannot be forced. I shall have to return after sampling the hot dog concession.



Here's a cute picture of me learning to stand! Now, is the look on my face joy/excitement at the idea of standing, plus the cold water on my junk, plus the unmitigated fun of the place, or revulsion at the feeling of my dad's cleavage on the back of my head. You decide.



Here I am sitting in the mini-lazy river, allowing the fresh water to run over my tiny chubby body. It is both soothing and cooling at the same time.

Eventually, I let the frivolity and joy wash over me like the cryptosporidium-laced chemically colored water. I (heart) the water park! Just be sure to hose me off when we're done.

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I'm all out of love...I'm so lost without you...

Here I am practicing my karaoke. My gaki chikara style makes all the bijin swoon. I am a regular kawaii karaoke kami.

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Here I am, eating some nutricious goop. It makes me stronger. Soon I will be beefcake.
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Crunchy stars are tasty stars.
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Happy 4th!

Why does the Waaka look like a minature version of an Irishman after taking his daily ablutions?

Because it's hot, monkeys.
Jungle hot.

But that's the South in July for you. What can you expect? It's not like you can expect Brittany Spears to stop being white trash, just cause she's wealthy. Neither will the South stop being balls-ass hot just because you want it to be so.

We spent the day at Uncle Toro's house with some extended friends and new subjects. All were impressed with me. It seems for some my reputation paled in comparison to the real deal. Love the B, monkeys.

Among the guests of honor were Aunt Debby and Uncle Colin. Aunt Debby was more than happy to serve as my personal armchair and handler.

In this picture I have pointed out how crazy large my father's head is. Very amusing indeed.

The great thing about Debby is that she was easily distracted, and thus was forced to share her tasty food.

Mmmmmmm....chips.
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Fireworks and barbeque

My parents invited people over to admire me and lavish me with attention. And to eat tasty burgers from the grill.

Aunts/Uncles Jenn, Josh, Shonda, Toro, and Kate came over for some World Cup action, some food, some beer, and general frivolity. Of course I used this time to my advantage and allowed them to be awash in my presence. It's good to let the peasants see the Lord every once in a while. Keeps them focused on the golden rule: Do whatever the Waaka wishes.

Here, Uncle Toro is admiring my t-shirt, which clearly outlines my ambitions. I am very impressed with his, as well. I am told he received it on a trip in which he searched for Space Monkeys at Cape Canaveral. I always suspected they were there.

Here Aunt Kate is holding me and generally helping me look good. Mostly by being, shall we say, hot. Looks aside, she is very smart, and is a scientist. A genuine white lab coat, split nuclei, fold proteins, develop tiberium energy, clone chimps, make energon type of scientist.

I will be recruiting her for my evil schemes. For now I must lay down the groundwork. While all at the party are wrapped up in watching Beckham and talking about Grey's Anatomy, I perform a mind meld with Kate. Love the Waaka. Serve the Waaka.




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