Keep it down, fellas

All this Christmas hubbub...can't a girl get some sleep?

This is what Christmas is really like

As each gift is opened, we instantly evaluate it's worth and value. We then
catalog them in order of importance, and gravitate to the ones we like most.
In order:
1. Pokemon DS game
2. Megazord/Star Wars ship
3. Legos

And then... we GAME!

Catching up for the public

For those who missed out on the email blasting this weekend, here's a summary page of what went out...

Check out Harper's first video!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That is all...

Our New Sister

Well turns out that mom doesn't have a giant tumor in her midsection. She truly had a tiny human inside. (As you may deduce, I was skeptical.)

Harper came into the world this weekend, NOT ON SCHEDULE. I reminded my parents of this frequently. i will continue to do so until they get the point that I, your Waakabee, have things to do. Birthing secondary siblings is not a valid excuse for forgetting to take me to Yogli Mogli. I want my damned tasty treat. Now.

That is all...

Nursery Ready for #3

Mom and Dad have prepared the sleeping chambers for #3 Dyson. She better like Purple. And girly stuff. They worked "hard" on the room and are "proud" of the results. I don't know if I'd go that far. Coop says he likes it. What an ass-kisser.

Anyway, I look forward to a new minion, since Cooper didn't quite turn out to be who I wanted. He has too much spunk and chutzpah. I asked for someone malleable, docile, and loyal. Instead I got someone stubborn, free-willed, and with a giant head. Once again, my parents have let me down.

Let's hope for their sakes #3 turns out as requested.

That is all...

Punkin time

My portly pater familias has carved a delightful Georgia Tech pumpkin, in honor of our crushing defeat of Clemson.

A game, which we are told, was incredible to behold.

A game which, we have heard, was an instant classic.

A game to which neither of us was taken.

My parents chose to go it alone, and "have fun" with their college buddies. WE on the other hand were left with outsourced child rearing, getting all of the same discipline and structure and none of the love. In my parents' defense, they "deserved" a night out and had been looking forward to seeing their friends and reconnecting. Yeah. As if.

I'm sure that their "reconnection" really just amounted to everyone sitting around and lamenting the fact that they are old, tired, and in my father's case, paunchy.

Thanks Mom and Dad. Tomorrow I will be sure to eat so much candy that I go into a sugar shock, spasm, soil myself, and collapse. Just to watch you clean it all up. How's that for a connection?

That is all...

First Day of School. Again.

My fat father keeps up this charade that going to school on the first day is somehow important and notable. I did this last year. My world didn't change. I received no cash sign-on bonus with golden parachute kicker. No endorsement deals landed from Staples, Gymboree, or Pottery Barn Kids (despite conspicuously sporting all their gear). I didn't even get a free handgun upon check in. I thought this was America?

And to think - my porky pater familias makes this much hubub about a PUBLIC school?! Given my home state's stellar reputation for public education he is really leaving me out for the wolves. He might as well throw me in a back alley in pick-any-crappy-city with naught but a pencil, a peanut butter sandwich, and a sign on my back that says, "Free for the taking." I mean, I fully expect to wind up water boarded, turned into a drug mule, branded with a Confederate flag, and/or given scabies. All on the first day.

Then again...

I can think of no better forge in which to shape and temper the finest weapon known to the history of mankind, as I am sure to be. In order to bring about your Hobbesian future, I shall sacrifice myself. Out of the fires of this plebeian pipsqueak prison shall rise your future ruler and deity, the Waakabee. Bring it on, Cobb County.

That is all...

My name is Cooper and I'm a Mac

Some kids have blankies, some have teddy bears. I have my iPad.
.

That is all...

There can be only one.

Competition is the driver of life, and winnows the wheat from the chaff.

Daily, I put every piece of my body through challenges and trials in order to kill of weak cells, and promote strong ones. Over the course of my lifetime, all weakness will be purged. Ultimately, my body will be comprised of ONE invulnerable, immortal cell. And you monkeys can rest assured that that single-celled organism will rise to rule the world as your overlord, your Waakabee.

Though my mono-cellular future is a long way off, I am firmly on the path. Last week, I shed several eyelashes. Two months ago, a portion of my spleen. The latest victim of my self-exercise in natural selection is my front tooth.

Good-bye, tooth. Thou wast weak, and I am better off without thee.

That is all...

The accolades continue

This should come as no surprise to those of you who know my history, but I was recently honored again at an award ceremony was held at my local school/prison.

The program is called "Rocket Readers" and true to the name, I am part of an elite group of engineer/astrophysicists who qualified by mastering thousands of pages of technical journals and plans.

At least that's how I did it. I hear that other children were allowed to qualify by reading children's literature and drivel like "Big Dog Little Dog," and "Captain Underpants."

I don't know what shenanigans and bullshit the Rocket program administration is up to, but a program aimed at future engineers/astronauts/mad scientists should clearly have standards.

I will sort it out with them. A coup de'tat is not out of the question.

Here's a pic of me and my holmes Seth and our medals. We're stoked.

That is all...

Wet Day in the MK

But we're hard core, thanks to these nifty ponchos. BTW mommy's hair bands can also be used as poncho cinchers for those who are height challenged.

Two Pleased Pirates

Cotton candy, ARGH!

Take a big swig of the Koolaid. Trust me.

All future dictators must learn techniques for quelling rebellion and dissent. I chose to put a little something in everyone's juice.

Freddie showed a surprising resilience, so I had to choose a more direct route.

"Don't fight it Freddie. The others struggled, and look where it got them.
Shhhhh.. Go to sleep..."

That is all...

The Son Becomes the Father

Today Dad showed me something AWESOME. It's called Zelda. I played it for at least an hour today, and I of course picked it up like a champ.

That's right, a five year-old trounced his father's beloved game.

At one point I saw tears in his eyes. He said it was from the joy of "seeing the circle completed," whatever that means.

I think it was because I beat his score so easily. Bring it on, old timer. I've conquered your childhood nostalgia with my god-like gaming powers.

That is all...