Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
ma lil crack addict
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Big Wallymon
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Sampa Sampa Sampa....
It's true, I have created a language I call "Wallymon". It's a language I speak only to Walter, unless I forget and talk Wallymon at dinner parties, at which point everyone else stops talking and looks at me. Translation is difficult, but this photo is a good illustration of a moment I would look at Walter and say, "Oh Wally. Sampa Sampa Sampa." I think it's closes English translation is: "Oh Walter, I luvs luvs luvs you and your big dinner roll head."
More Wallymon vocab to come.
More Wallymon vocab to come.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Walter sleeping in my chair while I try to work.
This is Walter sleeping on my chair while I try to work. The chair is only built for one person, so how can he sleep so peacefully? Well, I'll tell you how. By jamming his little feet into my back and pushing me forward, inch by inch until I nearly fall off the chair and he at long sweet last can rest comfortably.
If I do by chance get up for a cup of coffee or something, when I come back to my chair, Walter has spread out over the entire seat and he looks at me like, "Don't tell me you're sitting back down here again."
While he sleeps, he also likes to take his stuffed dog, as pictured here, and chew on it. He makes this chewy-chewy makka-makka sound. His king-sized dog bed (AKA snack hideaway)with ample throw pillows and soft blankets is two feet away, under the desk, but prefers to sleep up here, head on one armrest, body wedged in an area the size of a loaf of bread. That way he's also handily located by my kidneys, where he can inflict damage even when he's passed out.
Gosh I love this little guy.
If I do by chance get up for a cup of coffee or something, when I come back to my chair, Walter has spread out over the entire seat and he looks at me like, "Don't tell me you're sitting back down here again."
While he sleeps, he also likes to take his stuffed dog, as pictured here, and chew on it. He makes this chewy-chewy makka-makka sound. His king-sized dog bed (AKA snack hideaway)with ample throw pillows and soft blankets is two feet away, under the desk, but prefers to sleep up here, head on one armrest, body wedged in an area the size of a loaf of bread. That way he's also handily located by my kidneys, where he can inflict damage even when he's passed out.
Gosh I love this little guy.
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