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 servants with palm fronds. Where are my trained pet seals, to frolic 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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I'm Leaving, on a Jet Plane

Here we are on a jet to Texas. My first trip to Daddy's native land. I wonder if we'll see any steers. Or ? Dad, you think you could spare a buck to put me where I belong? No more of this tail-of-the-plane/steerage compartment crap for me. I demand first class!

On the plane I met a lovely latina. Her name was Maria. Suddenly my life has a purpose other dominating the world and crushing the hopes of you peons. I could picture my future, filled with beautiful women and stolen moments together...




Frack! I was getting soft! The wily woman has clouded my judgement and logic! NO MORE! Begone foul beast! The female of this species is clearly more deadly than the male.


And yet...one last embrace before those stewardess nazis made us sit down. I will always remember you, mi amore.




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S.O.A.M.

I like to play on the floor with my bad-to-the-bone toys. Here I have a tool bench, the better with which to practice my mechanical skills. Also, note the snake mock-up. Snakes On A Plane? Try Snakes On A Mommy! Sam Jackson ain't got nuthin' on me.

Oh, and you'll note my Wookie protector is keeping me warm. Good Annie.



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Move over Charlie & Annie!

This weekend we went to my grandparents' house. They have recently purchased a delightful pup named Bandit. Bandit is a Jack Russel, which are some of the most trainable dogs in the world.

Perhaps I should abandon my canine-killer/butler training programs with Annie and Charlie, and start with this impressionable young pup. I could mold him as I see fit and use him to do things like assassinate very small people or carry my monkey, Apu on his back in a little saddle.

In this pic I am describing to Bandit how large a pile of money I will sleep on when I take over the world. He was most impressed.

Needless to say he wooed me with his enthusiasm and naivete. And his puppy kisses.

Chicken fingaz! Get crunk!
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Heed my command, monkey

This is my monkey, Apu. I am communicating my nefarious plans to him. Together, we shall crush all!
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Your insolence is repaid!

He dared to question my genius. So I eat him.
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IKEA: The Return

Recently we returned to the land of the Swedes to procure more teak. Or Styrofoam candle holders shaped like pine cones. While in the parking deck, we ran into Uncle Toro and Aunt Kate. Clearly, they are enamored with me. I am acting ambivalent, because I learned that showing one's pets too much affection can cause them to be spoiled. Heel, monkeys.


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And it fits into a briefcase...

Here I am pointing out a Scandinavian. He was carrying an entire bed made of card stock, which weighed no more than ten pounds and can be torn into pieces and used for invitations to your amazing Swedish furniture party in your tiny metrosexual flat. Mom is laughing at his skinny nordic legs.

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Arthur

"Take me to the park, Bitterman. You know how I love the park."

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Junk in the Trunk? Try Junk in the Bonnet.

I am including this photo just to show you my huge bulge.

You: "You're just a baby and whoever wrote this is sick."
Me: Calm down there, Prudence. I'm just putting it out there. Don't be jealous that my similac-shake brings all the girls to the yard. Besides, who am I not to praise God's gifts? Oh, and judging by the size of it, this gift is a doozie.

You: "This counts as kiddie p0rn."
Me: You're sick for even knowning what that is. Knock, knock. I think Dateline is at your door.

You: "That's just a bulging wet diaper"
Me: Leave the Bulgarians out of this. They did nothing to you.

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King of Bunnies Visited

I recently paid a visit to the King of Bunny Rabbits. He is a mighty ruler who reigns from the Pansie Throne.

This state visit was the first of many. I am attempting to get him to acknowledge my sovereignty over the nation of Waaka. Who makes up this mighty nation? Over whom do I rule? YOU, monkeys!!

The visit went well. He didn't say much, but he did nod his head a few times and pointed to his concubines (not in frame). I think he was offering their companionship to me. The gesture was gracious, but the bastard knows that won't come into play for about 14 or so more years. Cheeky rabbit.

Dad said he once visited the leader of a group of space-faring monkeys at NASA, the Head Space Monkey. If our simian bretheren plan on unlocking the mysteries of space flight, then I must accelerate my plans for global domination, in order to beat their timetable.

Next up on my whirlwind international tour which will span the next few days - I plan to visit the King of Burgers in his tiny castle (located near our grocery store), then perhaps the King of Mufflers (Dad will be my lone companion on this visit - Mom says it's a man's work), and maybe a visit to the place where all nations come together in peace to discuss international concerns and breakfast foods, the International House of Pancakes.

Once my sovereignty is acknowledged and secured, I will begin building a coalition of nations which will help me crush all of your simpleton hopes and dreams for "global democracy". Democracy is washed up. Embrace Waakracy.

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The B Needs His Rest

A day full of world-domination-planning, exercise, play, and soiling oneself really takes it out of you.
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Family Fun

Recently, we went to the Aquarium. It was kind of poopy, because we got through the lines about one hour before they closed. So we rushed through, pausing only long enough for me to leave one stinky diaper. I'm sorry Aquarium staff. Next time the Waakabee will leave more presents, I swear.


As we prepared to embark on our journey, we had some respite in the backyard of my Uncle Robby's house. Gia, Le Terror, was there. As was every other living relative on my mother's side. All there to help the Waakabee see the fishes. What kind people.

In this picture Aunt Shannon is clearly giving Gaberdoody the heimlich, because he swallowed one too many Veggie Poofs. BTW, Veggie Poofs are like crack. I'm cuckoo for... you get it.


In this picture I am eating a boat. Why? Do not question my motives, fool.


While waiting, Gaberdoodles and I decided to have a race on the floor. And then we remembered that neither of us can yet crawl. I still won even though you can see he was playing dirty. I think Gia taught him that chop block.


Later, we actually went to the aquarium. Then mom tried to offer me up as a sacrifice to the penguins. I was not pleased.

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Restaurant Reviews - La Parilla

Today I will continue my extended series, restaurant reviews.

We will focus on the first restaurant I ever went to, La Parilla.

Restaurant: La ParillaLocation: All over Atlanta Metro. Most notably, Dallas Highway at Barrett.
Cost: $
Hours: They're open for lunch and dinner, that's all I know.
Dress: Casual.
Cuisine: Tex Mex

The food is tasty. The help is competent. The music is catchy. The futbol is loud. Dad says the margaritas are delicious. Note me sampling the tortilla chips. I love them so much I bathe in them.

This is a place my father frequents because it is near his work. Mom will only agree to go once a year. She says it's because she has discriminating taste. He says it's because she's a snob. I say it's because when we're there, I can't tell what's happening on the Spanish soap operas they play in the corner. It drives the Waakabee crazy. What has Manuel done to Graciela? And who's the hombre with the killer mustache?

So, I would recommend anything on the menu. I say that because I've never actually eaten here. The last and only time I went, I was knee high to an Olson twin. However, I did eat at MRB shortly after visiting La Parilla, and from what I can remember, it was delightful. So, ole.

Move over, David Blaine.

So I performed a magic trick today. I made everyone in a restaurant line bow to me. HOW do I have such power, you may ask? I will allow you a glance behind the curtain, monkey.

Setting - the local Willie's restaurant. Delightful establishement, colorful decor, with plenty of Republican-fearing millennials behind the counter.

Atmosphere - expectant, with a hint of cilantro.

Cue my father.
He has ordered some tasty vittles. Including a quesadilla for me. It will be my first Tex-Mex. And god help me it won't be the last.
He places me on the counter at the register, as he reaches for his wallet. He is concentrating on reaching around his large ass for the pocket.

Note my sly grin.

I reach, and like SpiderMan, everything within my grasp clings to my hands. CUPS go flying! CALCULATOR goes zooming to the floor! PENS are missiles! Willie's MAGNETS, begone!

And there, with a spotlight on it, with angels singing, lies my prize. The TIP FISHBOWL.

In the blink of an eye, BOOOOM! The bowl is on the floor and spinning, spewing money like a Mount Saint Helens of currency! Pennies, RUN FREE! Fly, fair Dollars! Seek your fortune, ye rolling quarters!!

And that is when the trick was performed, as all the monkeys around me bowed and scraped the floor, like good peasants to their lord. Of course, some would say they were simply picking up all the crap I had just thrown everywhere...but from my point of view, they were bowing. It was GLORIOUS.


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Look how excited that buffoon of a father is. When my ultimate plans come to fruition, I may spare him a cruel death, just for being such a blindly optimistic and happy idiot.
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I have begun to consume people food. No more goo for the Bee. Where is the vodka creme sauce?
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My first taste of lemon. Bitter. Like the future ex-Mrs. Wakaabee
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They should make stuffed animals in my likeness.
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Move over, Keith Richards.
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White Trash Cleans Baby in Parking Lot

Well I'd say we look rather common when mom choose to change my nappy in the back of the car. I guess maybe you're just trying to fit in here in Mabletucky


Then again, there is something rather...appealing about it all. Say there, cart shagger! Can you see my scrotum? Take a good look at the naked baby!
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Caption Contest II

Hey there, party people! It's meeeeeee the Waaakabeeee.

Submit your best captions. Whoever wins, I will send a dirty sock, so they may have a trinket of mine. Whoever loses, I will send a poopy nappy.

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Dear Adoring Fans

Dear Adoring Fans,
please do not delete StripedPajamas from your 'favorites' list. My Dad is a very busy and important man. Did you know he has made the rank of Imperial Trooper and fights with Darth Vadar himself. Amazing. You should all be terrified of his great power. After all, he did provide 50 percent of the Wakkabee's magnificent DNA.

I love me some chick!
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Swingin' in the breeze

I found this amazing swing while in Texas. It's soooooooooo much fun.

Weeeeeeeee!

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