Showing posts with label Yo Gabba Gabba. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yo Gabba Gabba. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

MY SON, THE ROCK

Just got home from the doctor's and Beast's annual checkup and flu shot. Not a peep out of him when he got the needle. Ah, but tell him he's got to turn off the Yo Gabba Gabba for lunch and watch the waterworks commence.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

ANOTHER PERFECT DAY

Noodle loses her first tooth, as noted earlier:



That will be the cover of Noodle's first solo album, Fathe Value.

After that blessed dental event it was rather quickly downhill.

(Update: things as described below were not quite as lurid as had originally been perceived, thus the edit.)

Wife loses her first car - hooray for Route 9 traffic lights that operate when malls aren't even open, and double hooray for people who don't know what to do at said lights, especially when an emergency vehicle is trying to get through. Hint: panicked leaping on the brakes and screeching to a halt when everybody else is expecting to slow down and pull over is NOT the move. The oil slick on 9 didn't help matters any. So, bye-bye to Ol' Red. New Red (the minivan) becomes Ol' Red. For reasons known only to them, the rental-car company has provided Her Awesomeness with an enormous truck she needs a step-stool to climb into, and as we speak she's at Ruge's in Rhinebeck lining up a new ride. In the meantime, we're going to use the truck to pick up a few day laborers and threaten to turn them in to La Migra unless they come across with some scratch for Beast's nursery school.

All this leaves me working on the best doggone cobbled-together spaghetti-and-meatball combo you ever did see, but I'm trying to time it out so that it'll still be warm when my beloved comes back home.

Barring a deer jumping out in front of her truck, that is.

Please eat tonight, kids. And no throwing fits at bathtime or bedtime. Daddy's begging. Give us three hours of Stepford-Child behavior and for you, dear children, it's ponies and Camaros and all the Yo Gabba Gabba you can handle.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

ADDITIONAL YO GABBA GABBAGE

Don't Bite Your Friends?

Did that really have to be said? But again, it's going to get stuck in your head after the first couple of listens. And then you'll have the munchies.

IN WHICH NOODLE EXPLORES THE SOUL-EATING MACHINERY OF THE ENTERTAINMENT BUSINESS

So far she has wanted to be a princess when she grows up, a veterinary instructor, and now she aspires to be a Yo Gabba Gabba cast member or writer or something.

Say what you want about the entertainment business, you cannot watch "Party in My Tummy" and keep a frown on: