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.

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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.

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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.

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I am his Mr. Miagi

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

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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.




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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!)

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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.

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Super-sizer working...

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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.