All Aboard!


Yesterday’s shrieky clip was nothing. Child’s play. Light and Breezy.

I am now caring for Shriek 2.0, a much louder and shall we say, guttural shriek. However, I do possess an item that stops the shriek dead in its tracks.


See that green button on the front of the train? When your child presses that illuminated button, one of the most annoying, high-pitched voices in the history of mankind starts up with some “All Aboard the Animal Train” bullshit. Wito likes to press this button repeatedly, as in repeatedly for days on end, over and over and OVER until I notice a little trail of blood seeping out of my ear canal.

This train causes some sort of curious phenomenon that renders Wito speechless. I tend to believe it’s the high-pitched racket slowly killing every neuron in his little brain. Whatevs.

Here’s the caveat- my special train sounds subtly more annoying than what is advertised. Take a listen for yourself. Not too bad, no? I mean, yes, it’s annoying as hell, but feasible. Now listen to mine.

My train conductor is coked up. Must be the Southern Californian version – talk about target demographics!


Holy Screaming


Wito is experiencing a shrieking phase. A major shrieking phase.

And not in an unhappy or bothered way, but in a blissful my-life-is-AWESOME kind of way. Time to eat? IIIEEEEEEYYYEEEEEEE! Time for a nap? IIIEEEYYYEEEEEEEEEEE! Time to play? IEEEYYYYYEEEEEEEEEE! Time for Music Together? IEEEYYYYEEEEEEEEE! Time for a walk? IEEEEYYEEEEEEEEEEEE!

You get the picture. At first, it was absolutely darling…the clasping of hands, the huge gummy grin, the excitement. But now, people, my ears hurt. The neighbors’ ears hurt. How can taking a nap be SO thrilling? As I type this, he is lying in his crib, shrieking with undeniable glee to the mobile.

I definitely do not have an emo baby.

I’ve added some shriek for your listening pleasure. It must be your lucky day.


Save Room For My Clout


Recently, I took some sort of personality blog quiz and one of the questions asked about writing technique, specifically whether you follow an entry “outline” or go with the flow. My answer surprised me, given I am such a list-maker and organizer extraordinaire, but when it comes to this blog, I have no idea where an entry will take me. Maybe that’s why I keep this blog up and running; it’s the outlet for my mind’s crazy pathways.

Why, just in the past three minutes my mind has traveled from Beyonce to fly-fishing equipment to Chris Farley’s bald spot to the size of Dunkin’ Donut holes, which I believe are called munchkins, leading me to Oompa Loompas, then of course candy which can sometimes be called booty. And, we’re back at Beyonce. Full circle.

Speaking of beautiful people with beautiful voices, John Legend is really into sex. His new album is one we play in the morning while drinking coffee and hanging out as a family. Wito seems to love it, in fact, whenever the back-up singers start up, he always turns his head towards the speakers all, “Where my lady-friends at, yo?”. Seriously though, John loves him some sex. Which is just fabulous, but I am particularly intrigued by the lyrics in “Save Room”.

The song starts out innocently enough,

Say that you’ll stay a little
Don’t say bye bye tonight
Say you’ll be mine
just a little of bit of love Is worth a moment of your time

knocking on your door just a little
so cold outside tonight
let’s get the fire burning
I know, I keep it burning right

Fine, that’s lovely and all. It’s the next part that makes me wonder,

This just might hurt a little
love hurts sometimes when you do it right
Don’t be afraid of a little bit of pain
pleasure is just on the other side

Is it just me, or is Mr. Legend talking about anal sex? I would like to believe he is talking about letting down your guard blah blah blah, but REALLY people, he’s totally talking about the poop chute. And how could his lady friend deny his request? Have you seen his precious face? I mean, he was on Oprah for God’s sake. Singing at the Legends Ball! Talk about some clout with the ladies.

And this concludes today’s visit into the mind of Whoorl. Peace and anuses (anii?) to all.

UPDATE: My sister just informed me he is speaking of The China, as in Hurting The China. Possibly The China of A Virgin. I then asked her why in the hell she calls it The China, to which she replied, “Well, it rhymes with vagina and it’s WAY down there.”


No Words