The Standoff

Me: So Mr. Wyatt, you ARE going to give me a piece of that breadstick right?

Wyatt: Ms. Ticky Von Beagle, you'll have to wait for my spit-up.

My New Man

Joe left me...for China. He's been gone for almost 2 weeks. And while I might have shed the tiniest doggy tear the first night, I got over it. That's right. First I was afraid, I was petrified. Kept thinking I could never live without Joe by my side. But I grew strong. And I learned how to get along.

What that means, really, is that I found a new man. My (sleepy) Uncle Davy. He walks me, lets me sleep with him, feeds me snausages, and picks up my poop. So ha! Joe, that's what I say to you. You stay there in Asia with Second Wife who makes you homemade pork dumplings that you never bring home for me (or First Wife, Dina). (But if you do stay over there, don't forget to send us our unemployment checks).

But Dina already told me that you're retuning soon. To which I say...So you're back, from outer space (well, really, China might as well be outer space to me). I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key. If I'd known for just one second you'd be back to bother me. (But since you're back, could you please walk me? I really got take a dump).

Still Number One

In case there was any question, I am still Daddy's little girl.

How Did This Happen?

We had a get together for Joe's birthday a couple weeks back. We ate BBQ, Joe got a Star Wars video game, you know, the usual. What wasn't usual was the guest list. Can you see it on my face, thinking 'how the heck did this happen?' Well, truth be told, I wasn't thinking that exactly. I was thinking, exactly, 'how the heck did this happen TO ME???'(I will sort of admit that this is awfully cute. Not like it's a row of beagle puppies with Uncle Jon, but nevertheless, cute).

They'll Let Anyone in Med School These Days...

I'm looking at this guy like "who the hell are you?" and "what's up with your 'do?" But actually, this is my Uncle Mike. He's highly educated, a concert violinist (or is that violanist?), and the father of 2. So again, I say "who the hell are you?" and "what's up with your 'do?"

I Wipe My Own Ass!!!

Well, not really, but I do hold my own bottle.

What Happens in the To Household, Stays in the To Household

I didn't hit Cabo, or Vegas, or Miami. No, I spent my Spring Break with the Tso family at home. The whole Tso crew came to visit, including Kona. Like the nice host I am, I brought Kona along on my daily romps with the dogwalker. I usually go to a dogpark, where I run around like a hoodlum until I have to go home again. But see, here's the problem. Kona doesn't usually play with other dogs (except for me, and I'm extraordinarily patient with her, a trait I learned from my parents....Read: Sarcasm). Anyway, Kona apparently is considered 'submissive.' As our dogwalker said, when we got to the park "Kona spent the first 20 minutes on her back" (and she's not even that kind of dog, if you know what I'm sayin'). Anyhow, I think Kona had the most fun hanging out with me (drinking 40's and watching pornos once the 'rents went to bed).

Wyatt, in the back, just making sure that everything's cool.

6 month check-up with pediatrician with updated statistics:

Weight: 10 %ile
Height: 10 %ile
Head Circumference: 55th %ile

That's right folks! That's one laaaarrrrge head!!!!I ain't mad! Big head = Big brain!
And you know what they say about guys with big brains...

Good News!

Wyatt started solids this weekend. This is fantastic news for me, as now I can lick up more than the occasional spit-up. Can't wait till he gets to the meat products, mmm yum!!!

Béseme...Béseme Mucho...

Es verdad. Yo soy muy guapo.

Aquí venido Senorita. Déjeme cantarle. Le cantaré canciones del amor. Pero primero, tomaré mi pulgar de mi boca.

Family Photos Aren't Family Without Me

If they think they can take a family picture without me,
they have another thing comin'.

If Ticky's not in the picture, then there's no picture.

Pay Attention to Me!!!

Don't ignore me Dina. If you do, I'll rip down your pants.

Hair for Sale

After letting her hair grow out (really, a result of 8 weeks of bedrest), Dina chopped off her locks. About 10 inches. I personally think that she should be selling it on the black market, as there are enough hair extensions in Los Angeles alone to keep girls in India fully employed. Anyway, Dina's copying what her niece, Taylor, did and is donating to Locks of Love. It's a feel good moment for Dina, so don't ruin it by reminding her how mean she actually is.

Quick Rant by Dina

While I was nursing Wyatt, he had a big booger in his nose. I picked it out and put it on the coffee table (so I could throw away when I was finished nursing). Well, I forgot about the booger because Wyatt pooped in his pants while I was trying to burp him, exploding out of his diaper and up his back.

After I cleaned Wyatt up and put him down for a nap, I returned to the couch with some kettle chips. They were on the coffee table open and I got some on the coffee table. So I picked up one of the crumbs and put it in my mouth -- only to realize that it wasn't a chip, it was Wyatt's booger.

So about a year ago, I was providing legal counsel to one of the most trafficked websites in the world. Now, I'm eating boogers.

P.S. Yes, I spit it out, sickos.

My mom eats my boogers

Wyatt's First Blog (and Photo Montage)!

Although I have now figured out how to solve Fermat's Last Theorem, I can't be like Dad all the time. So I am going for the 'best dressed kid' award, already informally awarded to me by my Mom and her friends. But I am a loyal consumer, and so here is my Gap photo montage. Enjoy!




Special thanks goes to my Mom, my Uncle Davy, my Uncle Derek, and esp. my Auntie JoAnn, all of whom are keeping GapKids afloat on their very own. [Legal Disclaimer: Monkey hat and green socks are model's own, and not provided by Gap, Inc.]

One Nation Underdog!!!

Coming soon...to a theater near you (or not so near you if you live in France, Auntie Amy)...the...best...movie...ever...with, if I don't say so myself, the most gorgeous star in it!!!

UNDERDOG!!!

But what I bet you didn't know was that Underdog is a BEAGLE!!! Well, neither did I, but you can't deny it! Look closely at the at the long ears, the beautiful jowl line, the solid frame, the strong forward gaze looking, seeking, searching for trouble (or peanut butter cookies). Hot diggity dog! Underdog, my personal hero, a beagle!!!

This must be why when Joe walked me this evening (pee, but no poop), a bunch of women across the street started cat-calling (how ironic to use the word 'cat'...sigh) "beagle! beagle! beagle!" Joe got scared and ran away (after all, who wouldn't be scared of a bunch of women trying to get near you because your dog is so cute -- Dina, by the way, rewarded Joe with a biscuit when he got home for "leaving it."). Beagle...dog of steel, the first dog of Krypton, dog of tomorrow! Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane, it's Underdog!!!

Damn, I look good in spandex

Don't forget to check Underdog out, coming Summer 2007!

P.S. Like father, like dog. Dad loves Superman, I love Underdog. Go figure.

C*ckblockers

WARNING: This blog may not be age appropriate for those under 17, or in dog age, 2. Or really, anyone else who doesn't want to "go there."

In case you don't know, a c*ckblocker is typically known as a guy that interferes with another guy's attempt to hook up with a woman. You know, let's say GuyA is eyeing Girl1 and has been chatting her up the whole night (what do you like to do, where are you from, what did you study, did you like "The Notebook" better than "Terms of Endearment," and all that kind of junk that guys don't really want to hear, but are willing to forge through if there's a chance of hooking up). Well, even after putting all that QT into Girl1 and as GuyA is really about to close the deal, GuyB rolls in, makes a move, and leaves with the girl -- effectively, as they say, c*ckblocking.

But I started thinking about this, and c*ckblocking doesn't just apply to guys, there are all forms of c*ckblocks, and here are just a few:

* Dina and Joe finally return from their trip to Laguna Beach, and I'm as excited as hell to see them. I've been staying with Auntie Di and Uncle Ken, sleeping in the kitchen with Kona. Well, Dina and Joe roll in, I run up (to do my usual lickfest on their faces), and Kona jumps in the mix, and c*ckblocks me from them!!! Not only can't I lick their faces, but I'm also getting whipped in the face with Kona's 20 foot long tail!!! That's lick-blocking, and here's the lick-blocker herself.* Dina goes to the buffet at the Wynn Hotel & Casino in Vegas. Now, we all know we shouldn't get between Dina and an unlimited amount of food. But did you ever notice that there's always that one guy, that one jerk (or jerkette) that is always in your way? Walking too slowly towards the food, but meandering in such a way that you can't get around him. Or, you turn around to get in line, and whoa! Who slides in before you and then can't make up their mind on whether they want their prime rib cut medium rare or medium? Same guy! And then, you move towards the frozen yogurt dispenser, and voila! Same dude blocking the machine, and to boot, the chocolate jimmies and crushed oreos. That's buffet-blocking.

* Or you're Joe at a conference, and you're trying to get into the tent. And there's some dude on his bluetooth in front of you that keeps speeding up and then slowing down, in a pace rhythmic with his conversation, but not rhythmic with walking forward. And as you try to dodge around him, he raises his hands in emphasis, and not only are you still behind him, but your face is now meeting his hand. That's tent-blocking.

* Or like an old friend of Dina used to point out, what about the guy at McDonald's waiting in line to order. And when he finally reaches the front, he's wondering out loud "hmmm...what do I want?" Uh dude? You've been waiting in line, a perfect time to figure out what you want. Oh, and by the way, we're still at McDonald's, where the menu is the same, has been the same, and will be the same for eons! That's burger-blocking.

So I'm just sayin', that c*ckblocking is an awfully good word with lots of applications. Just think about it. And don't get me wrong, I'm not a hater. Heck, I'm a c*ckblocker myself. You have to remember, I sleep in Dina and Joe's bed.

Guest Blog from Dina: A Sad Statement

I thought it was hard turning 35. You know, feeling much closer to 40 and kissing 30 goodbye. But that wasn't hard. What was hard was tonight.

Tonight, I went to a dinner/concert hosted by some investment banking joint throwing a big conference in Laguna Beach. Dinner was fine -- In N' Out burger trucks outside, plus the usual seafood spread and lots of free booze. The theme of the night? Moulin Roth (Roth being the name of the investment bank). Okay, sort of cheesy.

So why did I go? Well, of course because the food was free (I am Chinese, people). But also because Ludacris was the concert portion of the night. And at first I was excited. But after I entered the tent, a little part of high school Dina died.

Important Statistics:
Number of near naked go-go dancers: 12
Number of beer stations: 4
Number of dessert options: 6
Number of times I visited the buffet: 3
Number of times I visited the dessert buffet: 2 (plus I made Joe go once more)

Even More Important Statistics:
Average age of attendees: 48
Percentage of white male attendees: 89%
Percentage of people who have actually heard of Ludacris, or for that matter, rap music: 7%
Percentage of old white people trying to dance to Ludacris: Oh, I can't even go there. But let's just say it was enough to ruin one of my former favorite songs "What's your fantasy"

Yet despite all of this, I moved up towards the concert stage to get a glimpse of Ludacris. And wouldn't you know it? I got stuck behind the one and only rice rocket Asian guy with a pound of gel in his stick straight hair (and I'm sure, some souped up Honda with a spoiler in the parking lot). Then, to my left was a 50 year old white woman dancing (and I use that word liberally because usually dancing implies rhythm) throwing her hands up in the air (and waving them like she just didn't care). And to my right? Some 20-something year old couple grinding on each other and making out.

At one point in the concert, I could swear that Ludacris and I met eyes. And I couldn't help but convey my disappointment to him -- 'Really Lud?' I besought. 'Was the 100 grand really worth this?!' And when he began singing "Shake Your Moneymaker" as some Investor Relations cougars grinded up against him on stage, I think I saw a little tear roll down from his eye and I knew my answer.

All I could think was "How did this happen? and "Where the hell am I?" So I squeezed my eyes shut, clicked my shoes, and said "There's no place like home, there's no place like home."

Call Me TicTac Tso

Once again, we go down to L.A. and visit the family to celebrate Dina's 35th (that's right folks, our girl has entered the mid-30's and she's not going down without a fight). But we're really in L.A. because Joe has a conference in Laguna Beach (also home to the show Laguna Beach, and a testament to Dina's sad, pathetic attempt to recapture her youth -- although she was never that skinny, never that rich, and certainly never, ever that white). And while those yanks stay at some ritzy hotel, they leave me with my Uncle Ken, Auntie Di, Cousins Alyssa, Aaron and Kona, collectively known as "The Tso's" (pronounced "So"). In other words, I've morphed from TicTac To into TicTac Tso.

By the by, Joe and Dina also visited Derek while they were in L.A., and even watched the most recent episode of The Apprentice at his house (which coincidentally, is across the street from Dina's high school and no, no, she swears it wasn't that 'hood' when she went there). Anyway, when Derek brought out the Ben and Jerry's ice cream for the boardroom scene, they thought he was doomed. But thanks to his excellent Spanish ("Vamos hacer un 'how do you say drawing?'") and his Priceline enthusiasm, his butt got saved.

Oh, and no, Dina was not able to finagle any information that would have been in violation of the severely expensive non-disclosure that Derek signed, although she can say with certainty that Wyatt is not Derek's lovechild.

Wyatt's First Hot Tub

A couple of things to note here, folks:

One: Notice how Wyatt is now a sufficient size such that in the future, Dina can use him to effectively block out her stomach in any bathing-suit-type photo?

Two: Notice how oddly dark Joe is compared to his wife and son, which has led some to say to Joe "hey, do you know you're son is white?".

And three: Notice how I am not in the picture?! C'mon people, this is my friggin' blog, after all!!!

My Brush with Fame

If I were hobnobbing in L.A. like my cousins, then I'd expect to, of course, have famous friends -- or at least know Cesar Millan (Okay, I'm not a "red alert" case, but I do still shit on the carpet from time to time).

But I'm not in L.A., I'm in San Francisco, where our mayor is checking into rehab after having an affair with his campaign director's wife (who wasn't as hot as Kimberly Guilfoyle Newsom, but I bet this chick wasn't pigeon-toed like ol' Kimberly -- oh wait, I bet you didn't know that! You never see her feet on CourtTV and by the way, maybe that's why she was a catalog model as opposed to a runway model...).

Anywho, much to my surprise, one day Derek Arteta comes walking into my house! MY HOUSE! Oh c'mon people, Derek? Current star of The Apprentice(masterminded Aimee's attack of that dog-eyed kid Aaron from Harvard?), previous star of $10,000 Pyramid (and he won because unlike most game show contestants, he's SMART), laywer sidekick to Jimmy and Adam, AND the key to Dina passing Federal Courts in law school (hey, that class sounds hard because it IS hard!).

Well people, he's just as nice as can be. Fame has not gone to his head (yet). And he tasted good...real good...like honey.

A Dog and Her Boy

This is my boy. He likes to suck on his thumb, which makes him drool a whole lot. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, he spits up. And then I go in...and lick his face. Or his burp cloth. You might think that's kind of nasty. But you have to remember, I'm a dog. I eat my own vomit.

Too Cute

So when Dina had Wyatt, she said it was like joining a cult. She suddenly was a member of this club (a not-very-exclusive-club, mind you). But she said that you are all-of-a-sudden bonding with other women for no other reason than having a child. You don't have to talk about your past, your job, your spouse, your dog (ahem!), nothing. Just talk about poop, tummy time, boobs, and sleep schedules. Sounds FABOO, doesn't it?

Well, Dina seems to like it enough, and she thinks it's been a great way to meet friends. Or I guess, it's really Wyatt meeting friends. Lots of friends...See Wyatt on the right? He's wearing this crazy fur vest thing...I guess he's embracing that San Francisco culture early! But before you start saying 'awwwww' at how cute this is, don't forget me:
THE CUTEST EVER, PERIOD!

My Family

We had a very merry Christmas. But check out the size of my lil' bro's noggin'! It's HUGE!!! Not a shock he can't lift it yet!

Oh, No You Didn't, Gillian!

So it's Christmas eve, and the whole immediate Wong family is at PoPo's (my grandmother's) house. We're all waiting for dinner, and my cousins are milling around the table (that's Alyssa, Aaron, Taylor, Gillian, and Jessica, by the way). Gillian and Jessica are now 7 years old and in second grade -- getting older, but that doesn't necessarily mean wiser...

In the meantime, I'm waiting for my dinner -- some nice hypoallergenic kibble. Joe's put it in my stainless steel bowl on the table, and I'm sitting around drooling waiting for him to put it on the floor.

Next thing I know, Uncle Kenny yells "Hey! Is this TicTac's food?" as he points to my bowl. Dina says "Yup!" To which Uncle Kenny replies:

"WELL, GILLIAN JUST ATE SOME!!"

Oh, no she didn't! Oh, yes she did!! The girl thought they were nuts, so she popped one in her mouth!

I didn't know whether I should pee on the floor from laughing so hard or bite her leg for eating my food.

Damn kid.

Hathy Holithays!

In a shout-out to "A Christmas Story", Wyatt pays homage to Randy (Ralphie's little brother), whose winter dressing also didn't allow for much movement:

Randy: I can't put my arms down!
Mother: Well... put your arms down when you get to school.

Hathy Holithays!

Hugh Does Joe Look Like?

Ok, when something happens once, it's like an accident, an aberration, a single incident never to occur again (duh, 1 means 1). But when something happens more than once, what does that make it? Or when something is said more than once, what does it mean? That it's the truth? That it's likely? That it's a certainty?

Well, get this folks. On more than one occasion (making it NOT an aberration), someone has commented to Dina or Joe that Joe looks like Hugh Grant. I'm sorry, did you say Joe? The Mexican/Filipino/but supposedly Chinese Hugh Grant? Now, I understand if Joe looks like a famous Korean actor (as he was told when he last visited Korea), or that Joe is Latino (as many people, including a nice abuela, mistook him for by speaking Spanish to him), or that Joe might be Laotian (hairstylist said so), Cambodian (by folks in Cambodia speaking Cambodian to him), or Filipino (as my cousin Taylor still believes him to be), or Hawaiian (too tan to be from the mainland), or that Joe is from any other country where the people are remotely tanned...
But Hugh Grant. Really people?


I don't know folks, but my dog eyes just don't see it. Well, I guess may be...if you squint real hard...it could possibly be...seen as...a little resemblance...to this?: