Archive for the ‘OMG!1 mybabyissocute!!’ Category

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Why Do You Need So Many Flamingos?

August 11, 2007

So, having a daughter I realize that sooner or later I may have to go to the zoo.  Unlike Disneyland, I’m not particularly stoked to take the Little Baby Cupcake to the Zoo.  But, since I was in the area today after lunch with a friend who lives on that side of town, I decided I should do a “dry run” of the Zoo, since I haven’t been there in 20+ years, and certainly the rest of Los Angeles has changed a lot in the intervening years.  I would hate to take Emerson there and find out that it’s a gang-banger hang out like Magic Mountain or that the Zoo randomly lets baby-eating animals out of their cages once a day or something equally crazy.

Like many of the non-zoo portions of Los Angeles, my gringo status relegated me to a very slim minority segment of the zoo populace (seriously, I believe flamingos outnumbered whitey at the Zoo, which also says a lot about how many fucking flamingos the L.A. Zoo has).  Undoubtedly I was the only solo white male in his thirties, which is an awesome way to be mistaken for a pedophile.  The racial mix wasn’t really an issue so much as the huge number of teenagers pushing their one & two year olds around in baby carriages.  That alone may be a good reason not to take Emerson here – I don’t want her thinking getting knocked up at fifteen is an acceptable norm.  But the best reason not to go was that the L.A. zoo is a festering pit of inadequate animal care.  The habitats are depressing, the animals look questionably cared for, and overall the place was just shabby seeming.  I think it’s Aquariums & wild animal parks for the LBC from now on.

The biggest plus of the Zoo was that the Mold-A-Rama machines are still in operation.  The one I really wanted was a statue of three chimpanzees doing the “hear no evil” bit, but unfortunately it had broken earlier in the day when the statue refused to leave the mold, so I settled for a Lion statue instead.  I gave it to Emma when I got home, but I realized that at 19 months old, she doesn’t really get the idea of “gifts,” yet.  Everything she sees in the world belongs to her. I’m going to have to start randomly withholding stuff from her so that she appreciates the plastic Lion statue more.

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Emerson Goes Night Night

February 27, 2007


The missus has relented in her ban on YouTube videos of the LBC here on the blog, although the ban may be only temporarily lifted. 

In this video, you can see that my baby has some concrete ideas about whether or not she is tired. It turns out she is not.

P.S., if you’re wondering why Emma has a shiner in this video, it’s cause she needs to learn to make daddy a better cup of coffee.

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My baby is a stone-cold GENIUS

February 11, 2007

This morning there was a major stride forward in the field of cupcake communications, the culmination of fourteen months of tireless efforts.  Until recently, most conversations with the LBC could be summed up as follows:

Me: Hey baby, who’s the cutest baby on Earth?

LBC: Nang!

Me: Can you say “Dada?”

LBC: Nang!

Me: Are you hungry?  Do you want me to read you a book?  So how ’bout this Anna Nicole Smith thing?

LBC: Nang!  NangNangNang!

You get the picture.  But this morning, during a busy round of “make faces to keep her amused while the missus changes her diapers,” the LBC said “Daaaaaa.”  I immediately bought her a pony.

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Border Protection is Serious Business

November 1, 2006

Whether it’s day

 

or night

 

Lola & Emerson are the most vigilant guardians of the front living room window that we could hope to have.  If only they could talk, we wouldn’t need a newspaper, as they could just tell us everything they see going on out in the world.

P.S., sorry I’ve not written more stuff here lately, I got a merciless case of food poisoning (along with several others I had lunch with) a few days back, and seemed to have lost all my funny along with the contents of my stomach.  Fortunately, I’ve started eating again so hopefully my sense of humor will be back soon.

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LBC in B&W

October 25, 2006

My friend Patrick took a bunch of photos of the Little Baby Cupcake using one of his retro cameras (a Holga) which causes all sorts of weird burning/edges/etc.  The shots came out great, but this one (currently up on Patrick’s photoblog) is the runaway favorite (with this one being a close second).  Dang ol’ adorable baby.  When will she cut it out, the being adorable?* 

* Answer: Never.

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Screw You, Jonathan Rouse of Loughborough University

September 4, 2006

So, for a little while now I’ve been tantalizingly close to the first result on Google when you search for either the phrase “Jonathan Rouse” or just the words Jonathan and Rouse next to each other without quotes (which, I believe, is how most people search).  But so far, I’m only the #2 result, behind a British Jonathan Rouse who apparently works for some fancy sewage think tank, specializing in composting, which is pretty damn lame.  I have to take solace in the fact that I’m also the #7 result with my official press release “Jonathan Rouse Declared ‘Man of the People'” back from when I got officially declared a Man of the People and issued a Press Release about it.  Seriously.

Incidentally, six years ago I actually sent emails to the first two pages worth of results for Jonathan Rouse on Google. Only a couple of them responded to my retarded “hey, your name is Jonathan Rouse?  How about that, MY name is Jonathan Rouse too!” emails, and even then, only to say “wow… small world…” or something equally awkward.  I’m not sure if Jonathan the Compost Man was among them, but if so, I bet he was one of the ones that spurned my e-advances.  Bastard.

Overall, though, I suppose not being incredibly internet famous has its perks. The missus is already leery about the level of anonymity we currently lack, going so far as to request that I “don’t post any images of [the little baby cupcake] to the web when she’s older”.  While I admire her faith in me that I won’t get bored of blogging and abandon it the way I’ve abandoned every other passing interest I’ve had, I am not entirely sure at what age my daughter will be before I need to stop posting pictures of her.  So, it is in good faith that I ask you, the skulking pedophiles in my audience, to please let me know the instant one of my photos of the LBC gives you the urge to masturbate, and I’ll immediately cease & desist.  If, on the other hand, one of the photos of the pugs gives you the urge to masturbate, please for the love of God keep it to yourself.  Some things need to remain innocent.

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She’s got her father’s fear of the outdoors…

September 3, 2006

As the LBC approaches 9 months old, all development signs are healthy & happy, thank God. She’s crawling quickly, pulls herself up from lying flat, etc. but even though she’s twice as tall & twice as heavy as she was when she first arrived, she seems to have about the same amount of hair. I think I may need to invest in a baby wig from BabyToupee.com, at least until she gets a suitable amount of scalp cover.  Wouldn’t want the other babies making fun of her…

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The Inflexion Point

August 30, 2006

I was reminded of this mathematical term a few months ago by a smart guy I work with; it refers to the point at which two trends heading in opposite directions finally pass each other. The moment, for example, the revenue from declining sales of last year’s car models is surpassed by the revenue from increasing sales of this year’s models.

I’m not convinced that it’s theoretically possible for my pugs to be getting stupider. Their brains were, at the peak of their mental prowess, wildly underpowered, haphazardly focused processing engines, the size of walnuts, with nearly the same capacity for retention & problem solving. Oscar would spontaneously choose items around the house that he found threatening, if they were new (or he hadn’t noticed them previously) and bark at them from a distance until something was done about the situation. Lola had a fear & suspicion of the Discovery channel that was so profound she would wake from the deepest REM slumber if a polar bear wandered onscreen so that she could fling herself across the room @ terminal velocity and fiercly defend the house from imminent bear invasion.

Yet somehow, stupid as they were, they seem to be slipping a bit. Lola has forgotten how to use the doggie door, and now just stares at it in trepidation (from both inside the house & out) until we open the door & let her in. Oscar has adopted the habit of trying to hump Lola, but doesn’t quite know how to do it, and so instead pounces on her directly from the side and vigorously sexually assaults her ribcage. Lola’s so confused by the whole process she just stands there, wondering what the hell is wrong with her retarded brother.

Meanwhile, every day the Little Baby Cupcake (“LBC”) gets smarter. She’s still behind them, in many ways. For example, the four of us were in the livingroom last week when the missus, out on a grocery shopping trip, called me on my cell. After the call, I said outloud “That was Mom”. The LBC had no idea what I was talking about, but the pugs immediately got up and ran to the front door, thinking I had announced their mother’s return from the store. For now, their grasp of English is better than hers, as is their mobility. But soon, it’s coming, the inflexion point. I wonder if I’ll notice the exact day it happened… “December 12th, 2006th, Emerson graduates from 5th to 3rd on House Intelligence Rankings*”…

*Yes, I have a house intelligence ranking. I store it in my massive brain.

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Whitey Detection System

July 24, 2006

So, I ordered a “Whitey Will Pay” t-shirt from the hypocritally pro-capitalism folks over at Unamerican, as part of my ongoing disguise for when the revolution comes (phase one: “man of the people” bumper sticker, phase two: anti-whitey clothing, phase three: rainbow afro wig?).  Unfortunately, they may be employing some advanced, “whitey-detector” on their e-commerce system, as it’s been several weeks, and I’ve yet to receive the shirt.  Worse yet, my helpful emails to their (suspiciously non-responsive) helpbot email have disappeared, unanswered, into the e-ther, as it were.  I even tried cajoling (“surely you realize the urgency, as whitey’s debt to society isn’t getting any smaller…”), but nothing.  I fear I shall have to employ subterfuge, perhaps wait until my half-breed daughter starts looking more ethnic, and get her to order for me. I just hope she darkens up before the revolution comes.  Mas frijoles, Emerson!  Papa needs his hipster t-shirt!!

Hey, speaking of the Man of the People bumper sticker, I’m in a bit of conundrum.  My passion for low speed mayhem has left me with the need to replace my entire rear bumper (apparently you can’t just “hammer-out” massive dents in plastic.  Silly me.), and along with it, the one of a kind M.O.T.P. bumper sticker.  I’d order another, but 1) I can’t remember where I got it from, and 2) I’m not sure replacing it with the same sticker is the right way to go.  I’ll have to come up with a new phrase, something that appropriately reflects my egalitarian, populist approach to life while still subtly making it clear what side of the line I belong on when the class warfare breaks out.  But I need to replace the bumper, because I got these awesome new stickers from the Gov’t the other day that let me drive in the carpool/HOV lane without anyone else in the car, and let me park at parking meters for free, anywhere in California, only I can’t put the stickers on, since I’m going to have the bumper replaced.  So it’s a bit of a Mexican standoff – gov’t stickers need to go on, but can’t until the bumper’s replaced, bumper can’t be replaced until I think of something suitably clever for the replacement bumper, and so on…

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Happy Father’s Day to all Fathers

June 18, 2006


And happy half-birthday to you, little girl.  Apparently there's nothing Baby Em loves more than flouncing in her bathrobe after a splash in the inflatable kiddie pool.