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...
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