now that we know that ANYONE might be one of the mutants zombie victims, i think now might be time to give a few tips on how to resist the insidious powers of the mutant..
1. when the mutant (or a zombie victim) ask for coke or candy, quickly hand them juice and cheese crackers (this seems to confuse and weaken him/them) ...if he/they starts to make piercing whinig noises.. rejoice you are RESISTING the domination.
2. when he/they become stubborn and refuse to complete a set task, quickly 9877^&$%^%%^........................ try ^$&&^$&()5646756..........................
the mewtent iiissss gooooood.....
........ohhhh lord the pain.......
the mewtant iissssssss yuuuurr frennndddd!!!
.......
...
.............................. fleee while you still can...^&$* rghhhhh.....
yooo wiiilllll ooooobbbeyy theee mewtant
Thursday, July 26, 2007
cracking the code: part two ( world domination tour 2007 )
..... coming soon, to a home near you!
it is becoming frustratingly evident that "the code" is not just verbal, but rather is comprised of a bewildering array of sounds, gestures and expressions.
that being said, the depths of depravity the mutant is willing to explore shock even my callous soul..
during a recent trip to the grocery store we (mama, mutant, and i) ran into a friend of mine who works at the store, and proceeded to chat for a minute.. my friend (who has has only slight contact with the mutant) looks over at the smug little tyrant and says hi to the mutant. the mutant then proceed to launch a full blown assault against this poor unsuspecting fool (my friend).
the mutant looks back at my friend cracks an impish grin, and says in a rather commanding tone "HIIII!!!!" and just about leaps out of my arms at my friend (for a second i was wondering if he was going for the jugular) and opens his arms wide for a hug...
my friend goes slightly cross eyed (obviously under the mutants mind control at this point) as the little bugger clings to his neck like a 25 pound leech. in a moment of supreme will my friend seems able to break the trance for a second (mutant was momentarily distracted by a cookie i thnk) and hands the mutant back to me.
now comes the truly HORRIFIC part!!!
my friend (by now slightly vacant-eyed) start rummaging in his pocket.. i am kind of wondering what the hell is going on when he sort of stiffens up ( hmmm.. mental crushing of the victims will by the mutant??) and extracts a dollar bill from his pocket and hands it to the mutant..
OHH MY GAWD... he is using random victims to fund his crusade!!!!
i think for a second , and realize that this is not an isolated nor infrequent thing....
an arab shopkeeper friend opening a highly collectible hotwheel and giving it to the mutant
the lady at the movie store with the free balloons....
the stickers at the market...
the neighbors giving him a hot dog THEY were about to eat THEMSELVES!!
whene will it stop.. where do his final ambitions lie........ where will he stop??
..............you.....too......may...........be ...... one of his victims!!!!!
..............................fight............the...........................domination!!!!!!!
-dawg
it is becoming frustratingly evident that "the code" is not just verbal, but rather is comprised of a bewildering array of sounds, gestures and expressions.
that being said, the depths of depravity the mutant is willing to explore shock even my callous soul..
during a recent trip to the grocery store we (mama, mutant, and i) ran into a friend of mine who works at the store, and proceeded to chat for a minute.. my friend (who has has only slight contact with the mutant) looks over at the smug little tyrant and says hi to the mutant. the mutant then proceed to launch a full blown assault against this poor unsuspecting fool (my friend).
the mutant looks back at my friend cracks an impish grin, and says in a rather commanding tone "HIIII!!!!" and just about leaps out of my arms at my friend (for a second i was wondering if he was going for the jugular) and opens his arms wide for a hug...
my friend goes slightly cross eyed (obviously under the mutants mind control at this point) as the little bugger clings to his neck like a 25 pound leech. in a moment of supreme will my friend seems able to break the trance for a second (mutant was momentarily distracted by a cookie i thnk) and hands the mutant back to me.
now comes the truly HORRIFIC part!!!
my friend (by now slightly vacant-eyed) start rummaging in his pocket.. i am kind of wondering what the hell is going on when he sort of stiffens up ( hmmm.. mental crushing of the victims will by the mutant??) and extracts a dollar bill from his pocket and hands it to the mutant..
OHH MY GAWD... he is using random victims to fund his crusade!!!!
i think for a second , and realize that this is not an isolated nor infrequent thing....
an arab shopkeeper friend opening a highly collectible hotwheel and giving it to the mutant
the lady at the movie store with the free balloons....
the stickers at the market...
the neighbors giving him a hot dog THEY were about to eat THEMSELVES!!
whene will it stop.. where do his final ambitions lie........ where will he stop??
..............you.....too......may...........be ...... one of his victims!!!!!
..............................fight............the...........................domination!!!!!!!
-dawg
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
cracking the code: part one (the veil lifts)
now that i am faced with the very real likelihood that the lump and the mutant are in full communication, and in all probabilty plotting world domination behind my back.
it has become imperative that i crack the "code" otherwise known as xavierese..
only with the succsessful infiltration of their secret language can i hope to avert disaster.
so far progress is painfully slow but i have managed to decipher three words and am now able to discern how these once innocent phrases are used to devasting effect on a daily basis..
1. TANK - to you and me a 15 ton metal bohemoth that crushes and destroys enemies in front of it..
....in xavierese tank = SNACK (seems innocent huh?... just you wait!)
2. BUGU (has no known definition in our world)
... in xavierese =BURGER
3. PLEASE i dont even really need to define this for you and me
.. however in xavierese PLEASE is a deadly potent weapon used to secure evrything from toys and treats to the mutant using it to subliminaly control our minds..
for example "please tank" is used to suddenly and completly subsume the target victims will and force them to immediately stop whatever they are doing and go fetch the mutant some for of sugar laden power food formerly known as a "SNACK"
a second example:
"PLEEEASE bugu!! daddy-o" (daddy-o seems to be some form of power word that magnifies the effects of his mind control, only works on me however)
this evil phrase when used with a slight pout to the lips and a glimmering of tears in the eyes, will quite literally suspend all activity in a 20ft radius and instantly cause adults in the area of effect to proceed to burger king and purchase hamburgers for the mutant's enjoyment....
... i am beginning to think that the lump is mentally reinforcing the mutants mind control, as she is always glued to his side whenever he unleashes his dastardly powers...
it took a while to see what the lump gains by assisting the mutant in his rampage towards world domination.. but i have noticed that the mutant gives her bits of candy and hamburger, for which the lump is embarassngly greatful...(hmmm maybe some sort of symbiotic relationship???)
anyway.. i have seen justa a couple of the weapons at the mutant's disposal (and they are truly horrible to be seen in use), and just maybe through identification i might be able to blunt future assaults....
.... if only there is enought time to crack the full code before......
-dawg
it has become imperative that i crack the "code" otherwise known as xavierese..
only with the succsessful infiltration of their secret language can i hope to avert disaster.
so far progress is painfully slow but i have managed to decipher three words and am now able to discern how these once innocent phrases are used to devasting effect on a daily basis..
1. TANK - to you and me a 15 ton metal bohemoth that crushes and destroys enemies in front of it..
....in xavierese tank = SNACK (seems innocent huh?... just you wait!)
2. BUGU (has no known definition in our world)
... in xavierese =BURGER
3. PLEASE i dont even really need to define this for you and me
.. however in xavierese PLEASE is a deadly potent weapon used to secure evrything from toys and treats to the mutant using it to subliminaly control our minds..
for example "please tank" is used to suddenly and completly subsume the target victims will and force them to immediately stop whatever they are doing and go fetch the mutant some for of sugar laden power food formerly known as a "SNACK"
a second example:
"PLEEEASE bugu!! daddy-o" (daddy-o seems to be some form of power word that magnifies the effects of his mind control, only works on me however)
this evil phrase when used with a slight pout to the lips and a glimmering of tears in the eyes, will quite literally suspend all activity in a 20ft radius and instantly cause adults in the area of effect to proceed to burger king and purchase hamburgers for the mutant's enjoyment....
... i am beginning to think that the lump is mentally reinforcing the mutants mind control, as she is always glued to his side whenever he unleashes his dastardly powers...
it took a while to see what the lump gains by assisting the mutant in his rampage towards world domination.. but i have noticed that the mutant gives her bits of candy and hamburger, for which the lump is embarassngly greatful...(hmmm maybe some sort of symbiotic relationship???)
anyway.. i have seen justa a couple of the weapons at the mutant's disposal (and they are truly horrible to be seen in use), and just maybe through identification i might be able to blunt future assaults....
.... if only there is enought time to crack the full code before......
-dawg
Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.
Yet again, my little world has taken a screaming right hand turn into the twilight zone.
... so there i am blissfully enjoyin my hack-n-slash fest ont the computer, when my son comes hurtling out of his room and slams into the back of my chair hard enough to make me worried about massive head trauma.
he then proceeds to tug my elbow repeatedly whilst insistently saying "hey HEY HEY".
shaken out of my blood soaked fantasy, i dislodge myself from the electronic nipple and fix the boy with my best "you are so going to get it" glare and ask him what he wants.
his response, well he hands me a matchbox car then quacks at me and scuttles back to his room.... seriously he QUACKED at me.. it was like some weird pink duck walked in and wanted to say heya.
apparently i was in urgent need of a toy car only i just didnnt know that yet (i still haven't figured out the quack thing). i give a mental shrug and turn back around to my gore-fest and go back to la-la land. after about five minutes or so (at least i THINK it was five minutes...hell it coulda been 2 hours) irealize it is WAAAAY too quiet ... and the dog.... is no where to be seen.. (DANGER will robinson DANGER).
i go whipping outta my chair and start to run to his room (imagining the tortures that have been inflicted on the poor put-upon lump), and nearly break my neck slipping on a cunningly placed toddler devised warning system ( 2nd matchbox car in stealth mode). now so forewarned jr pops his head out of his room and says "hi daddy-o"
i open the door expecting the worst, and there sits the lump comfortably sacked out on jrs bed all happy and shit. i think to myself "well hell... false alarm ... back to the game" and as i start to go back to the computer i hear jr start to babble on in xavierese, i turn around so i can figure out what it is that he wants and sneak up to his room to peer in. now HERE is where the whole thing takes a tailspin into utter madness.
he isnt talking to me at all... he's talking to the feaking LUMP, and shes listening to him. not resignedly tolerating him,, shes staring at him intently apparently hanging on to every word. he stops talking for a second and the damn lump heaves her lazy ass off his bed and trundles over to his toybox and snuffles at his remote control firetruck... i'll be dammned if he doesnt go over to the toybox and grab the truck and remote and cart it over to the bed.
the lump goes back over to the bed and lays down again... meanwhile jr is apparently lecturing the lump about how to control the rc firetruck....
JUST WAIT A FRICKIN MINUTE HERE..... the lump and the toddler are working together now??? and they understand each other as well????
holy sheep shit batman... i'm screwed.. they've banded together, the miscchief factor just increased by a factor of 15 million.
guess it's time i hunker down and break the code (previously xavierese has been a mere curiosity).. maybe the cake and milk will lull them into a false sense of security... but ill keep my eyes open now that i know they can communicate....
-dawg
... so there i am blissfully enjoyin my hack-n-slash fest ont the computer, when my son comes hurtling out of his room and slams into the back of my chair hard enough to make me worried about massive head trauma.
he then proceeds to tug my elbow repeatedly whilst insistently saying "hey HEY HEY".
shaken out of my blood soaked fantasy, i dislodge myself from the electronic nipple and fix the boy with my best "you are so going to get it" glare and ask him what he wants.
his response, well he hands me a matchbox car then quacks at me and scuttles back to his room.... seriously he QUACKED at me.. it was like some weird pink duck walked in and wanted to say heya.
apparently i was in urgent need of a toy car only i just didnnt know that yet (i still haven't figured out the quack thing). i give a mental shrug and turn back around to my gore-fest and go back to la-la land. after about five minutes or so (at least i THINK it was five minutes...hell it coulda been 2 hours) irealize it is WAAAAY too quiet ... and the dog.... is no where to be seen.. (DANGER will robinson DANGER).
i go whipping outta my chair and start to run to his room (imagining the tortures that have been inflicted on the poor put-upon lump), and nearly break my neck slipping on a cunningly placed toddler devised warning system ( 2nd matchbox car in stealth mode). now so forewarned jr pops his head out of his room and says "hi daddy-o"
i open the door expecting the worst, and there sits the lump comfortably sacked out on jrs bed all happy and shit. i think to myself "well hell... false alarm ... back to the game" and as i start to go back to the computer i hear jr start to babble on in xavierese, i turn around so i can figure out what it is that he wants and sneak up to his room to peer in. now HERE is where the whole thing takes a tailspin into utter madness.
he isnt talking to me at all... he's talking to the feaking LUMP, and shes listening to him. not resignedly tolerating him,, shes staring at him intently apparently hanging on to every word. he stops talking for a second and the damn lump heaves her lazy ass off his bed and trundles over to his toybox and snuffles at his remote control firetruck... i'll be dammned if he doesnt go over to the toybox and grab the truck and remote and cart it over to the bed.
the lump goes back over to the bed and lays down again... meanwhile jr is apparently lecturing the lump about how to control the rc firetruck....
JUST WAIT A FRICKIN MINUTE HERE..... the lump and the toddler are working together now??? and they understand each other as well????
holy sheep shit batman... i'm screwed.. they've banded together, the miscchief factor just increased by a factor of 15 million.
guess it's time i hunker down and break the code (previously xavierese has been a mere curiosity).. maybe the cake and milk will lull them into a false sense of security... but ill keep my eyes open now that i know they can communicate....
-dawg
Thursday, June 14, 2007
a day in the life of the lump
5:00 am wakeup and check the perimiter: all clear, back to sleep.
7:00 am the mutant stirs: prepare to hide, nap until it awkaens.
7:15 am rudely awoken by shoe thwacking top of head: hide while mutant gorges on pop-tarts. snatch poptart out of mutants' hand when mom isn't paying attention.
7:30 am hide and continue napping.
8:00 am sit in front of dad and stare. (can't the idiot tell i need to go OUT NOW!)
8:05 am hah, faked em out again, eat bones in neighbors yard.
8:06 am chucked back in the house again, oh well i'm kinda tired maybe i'll take a nap.
11:30 am kool! dad is cooking something, and damn it smells good. look pitiful at kitchen door (sucker is gonna cave and give me scraps, works every time)
11:45 am scraps aquired, damg i'm tired. might as well take a nap
1:30 pm i swear i'm gonna pee on the mutant while he's sleeping. $R#%$ show you what to do with that $%#%$#% hammer, ya little punk
2:15 pm finally, the little monster is napping. sounds like a good idea!
4:00 pm oh oh oh oh! leftovers... dad rocks. oooohhhh and mutant crumbs, i wonder if i can grab that piece of chicken he's got??
4:01 pm sonofabitch that smarts.... note to self: no grabbing chicken from the mutant while mom is watching.
5:00 pm movie time, peace and quiet, and no abuse for a while, think i'll take a nap
8:00 pm well damn, it's been a busy day.. think i'll go to bed.
7:00 am the mutant stirs: prepare to hide, nap until it awkaens.
7:15 am rudely awoken by shoe thwacking top of head: hide while mutant gorges on pop-tarts. snatch poptart out of mutants' hand when mom isn't paying attention.
7:30 am hide and continue napping.
8:00 am sit in front of dad and stare. (can't the idiot tell i need to go OUT NOW!)
8:05 am hah, faked em out again, eat bones in neighbors yard.
8:06 am chucked back in the house again, oh well i'm kinda tired maybe i'll take a nap.
11:30 am kool! dad is cooking something, and damn it smells good. look pitiful at kitchen door (sucker is gonna cave and give me scraps, works every time)
11:45 am scraps aquired, damg i'm tired. might as well take a nap
1:30 pm i swear i'm gonna pee on the mutant while he's sleeping. $R#%$ show you what to do with that $%#%$#% hammer, ya little punk
2:15 pm finally, the little monster is napping. sounds like a good idea!
4:00 pm oh oh oh oh! leftovers... dad rocks. oooohhhh and mutant crumbs, i wonder if i can grab that piece of chicken he's got??
4:01 pm sonofabitch that smarts.... note to self: no grabbing chicken from the mutant while mom is watching.
5:00 pm movie time, peace and quiet, and no abuse for a while, think i'll take a nap
8:00 pm well damn, it's been a busy day.. think i'll go to bed.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Holy leaping lemurs, batman!
.... skitter, scrabble---whoosh
leap,leap,leap,leap
like a blue guided missle the lazy blue lump comes streaking into the room (exhibiting speeds i'd not thought possible from her) to escape the rampaging mutant toddler.
jr comes into the room hot on the heels of his intended victim. he is doing this strange little thing he picked up from the pbs show "zaboomafoo". all the while waving his "sword" (a plastic straw). the glint of imment destructive urges shine in his eyes, this is NOT gonna be good. but i damn well will be hilarious!
the main character of the show (a cute ringtailed lemur puppet) does this little sideways hop as his main method of locomotion, all the while punctuating every hop with a cry of "leap".
this is the latest creature he has taken to emulating. last month it was a crab, the month before it was a cat. it's all good as long as he doesnt turn into the poo-flinging monkey!
ok ok back to the story...
the blue lump doesnt really like the boy, i mean she doesn't actively dislike him, she just treats him like an annoyance or at best mild indifference. now the boy....... LOVES the dog, he is freaking CRAZY about her..
i have never understood it, the lump does her level best to ignore him, and he does his best to constantly wear her ass out.
personally i'm kinda greatful, it takes some of the stress offa ME!
but as i realize the lump is getting kinda old now, oh my lord its gonna be tough to replace her, but it will have to happen eventually, and i have started to compile a list of attributes that the lump's sucessor will ABSOLUTELY have.
1. must be sturdy (i mean like battleship or fallout shelter sturdy)
2. must be patient (slug on thorazene patient)
3. self sufficient (able to forage scraps from jr, or else might starve)
4. must be sturdy (lord knows he is gonna smack her with areal hammer one day)
5. did i mention STURDY
skitter skitter whoosh kathump (well she cut that corner a little tight)
leap, leap, leap, leap........ heh heh.....
uh oh theres that demonic giggle again, gotta go check if the dog is in mortal danger
till the next blast
-dawg
leap,leap,leap,leap
like a blue guided missle the lazy blue lump comes streaking into the room (exhibiting speeds i'd not thought possible from her) to escape the rampaging mutant toddler.
jr comes into the room hot on the heels of his intended victim. he is doing this strange little thing he picked up from the pbs show "zaboomafoo". all the while waving his "sword" (a plastic straw). the glint of imment destructive urges shine in his eyes, this is NOT gonna be good. but i damn well will be hilarious!
the main character of the show (a cute ringtailed lemur puppet) does this little sideways hop as his main method of locomotion, all the while punctuating every hop with a cry of "leap".
this is the latest creature he has taken to emulating. last month it was a crab, the month before it was a cat. it's all good as long as he doesnt turn into the poo-flinging monkey!
ok ok back to the story...
the blue lump doesnt really like the boy, i mean she doesn't actively dislike him, she just treats him like an annoyance or at best mild indifference. now the boy....... LOVES the dog, he is freaking CRAZY about her..
i have never understood it, the lump does her level best to ignore him, and he does his best to constantly wear her ass out.
personally i'm kinda greatful, it takes some of the stress offa ME!
but as i realize the lump is getting kinda old now, oh my lord its gonna be tough to replace her, but it will have to happen eventually, and i have started to compile a list of attributes that the lump's sucessor will ABSOLUTELY have.
1. must be sturdy (i mean like battleship or fallout shelter sturdy)
2. must be patient (slug on thorazene patient)
3. self sufficient (able to forage scraps from jr, or else might starve)
4. must be sturdy (lord knows he is gonna smack her with areal hammer one day)
5. did i mention STURDY
skitter skitter whoosh kathump (well she cut that corner a little tight)
leap, leap, leap, leap........ heh heh.....
uh oh theres that demonic giggle again, gotta go check if the dog is in mortal danger
till the next blast
-dawg
Sunday, June 3, 2007
where the hell did i put the instruction book???
It seems that every day i get assaulted by a barrage of suggestions on raising my child that run the gauntlet from well meaning to completely sanctimonious drivel. the tv drones on on the "proper" way to speak to my son, the radio tells me i need to spend more time reading to him, folks i know vaguely suggest ways to get him to sleep...
what i would like to know, as all these sources seem to have the "official child raising" instruction book stashed in their collective back pockets is:
WHERE THE HELL DO I GET A COPY????? apparently i missed the handout day when they passed em out. so here i am stuck winging it!
oh my god, he just ate a rock!! you need to watch him closer, says a neighbor....(thanks for such sage advice o wise one)
what the hell? do you not even know this child??
he has the energy level of a ferret on redbull, i mean seriously he make me freaking tired just watching him. meanwhile my australian cattle dog (supposed to be a high energy dog) raised her red rimmed eyes off the pillow she has been sleeping on (for the last 6 hours) as if to say, "give it up man, you'll never win! (so sayeth the lazy blue lump).
momma is running around in the background completely freaked out muttering something about hospitals and stomach pumps...
my response is a little more tempered, i'm thinking to myself "it's just a rock and not a very big one either, i fully expect to see it again in about 6-8 hours.
shoot when i was a kid i probably ate enough nickels and dimes to plate a full size cadillac. (i will admit the nickels were a bit painful though, when they showed back up and out)
anyway there ya go, apparently my parenting style is a bit laid back, and that obviously is NOT what THE BOOK says.
what i can figure out from all these conflicting messages is before taking my son outside i need to do a few things.
1. layer him in a kevlar suit with ceramic trauma plates. (can't have a little boy getting bruises scrapes or bumps)
2. make sure his helmet has the anti-microbial, dust and particulate filter in place. (heaven forbid he might swallow a bug!)
3. shellac every square inch of skin (that has a miniscule chance of being exposed) with radiation proof spf 5000 sun block. ( that nasty ole sun will fry him to a crisp instantly)
4. make sure his triple filtered self-contained oxygen supply is fully charged (NO NO NO fresh outdoor air is BAD)
5. formulate a schedule that is planned out to the microsecond and never to be deviated from. (absolutely no spontaneous fun allowed)
......................OH HELL NO, not my kid!
these may be an extreme examples, but seriously this is the direction we are headed in. and frankly i have seen some of those things actually get inflicted on poor unsuspecting kids around me.
small wonder some kids end up neurotic!
me i think im just gonna go on being an irresponsible parent.
you know, letting my son have fun playing in the dirt, hugging starnge children, and hitting the dog in the head with his toy hammer. (it sounds bad, but the damn dog don't even wake up any more when he does that)
and as for the instruction book...... been doing fine so far, so maybe i'll forget about it fer a while.
......... ohh yeah by the way, chocolate cake and pepsi ROCK for breakfast.
till next blast
-dawg
what i would like to know, as all these sources seem to have the "official child raising" instruction book stashed in their collective back pockets is:
WHERE THE HELL DO I GET A COPY????? apparently i missed the handout day when they passed em out. so here i am stuck winging it!
oh my god, he just ate a rock!! you need to watch him closer, says a neighbor....(thanks for such sage advice o wise one)
what the hell? do you not even know this child??
he has the energy level of a ferret on redbull, i mean seriously he make me freaking tired just watching him. meanwhile my australian cattle dog (supposed to be a high energy dog) raised her red rimmed eyes off the pillow she has been sleeping on (for the last 6 hours) as if to say, "give it up man, you'll never win! (so sayeth the lazy blue lump).
momma is running around in the background completely freaked out muttering something about hospitals and stomach pumps...
my response is a little more tempered, i'm thinking to myself "it's just a rock and not a very big one either, i fully expect to see it again in about 6-8 hours.
shoot when i was a kid i probably ate enough nickels and dimes to plate a full size cadillac. (i will admit the nickels were a bit painful though, when they showed back up and out)
anyway there ya go, apparently my parenting style is a bit laid back, and that obviously is NOT what THE BOOK says.
what i can figure out from all these conflicting messages is before taking my son outside i need to do a few things.
1. layer him in a kevlar suit with ceramic trauma plates. (can't have a little boy getting bruises scrapes or bumps)
2. make sure his helmet has the anti-microbial, dust and particulate filter in place. (heaven forbid he might swallow a bug!)
3. shellac every square inch of skin (that has a miniscule chance of being exposed) with radiation proof spf 5000 sun block. ( that nasty ole sun will fry him to a crisp instantly)
4. make sure his triple filtered self-contained oxygen supply is fully charged (NO NO NO fresh outdoor air is BAD)
5. formulate a schedule that is planned out to the microsecond and never to be deviated from. (absolutely no spontaneous fun allowed)
......................OH HELL NO, not my kid!
these may be an extreme examples, but seriously this is the direction we are headed in. and frankly i have seen some of those things actually get inflicted on poor unsuspecting kids around me.
small wonder some kids end up neurotic!
me i think im just gonna go on being an irresponsible parent.
you know, letting my son have fun playing in the dirt, hugging starnge children, and hitting the dog in the head with his toy hammer. (it sounds bad, but the damn dog don't even wake up any more when he does that)
and as for the instruction book...... been doing fine so far, so maybe i'll forget about it fer a while.
......... ohh yeah by the way, chocolate cake and pepsi ROCK for breakfast.
till next blast
-dawg
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