Losing my Marbles

So the hot club in town for the under-8 singles scene is a club called Marbles. It's where you go to see and be seen. As a celebrity, it's important that I make public appearances now and then to maintain my place in the gossip mags. Here's some pics from recent Marbles visits:

My boy Cohen and I are testing out the lawnmowers.

If there's one thing I've learned so far it's that chicks dig guys who operate heavy machinery and smell like grass and gasoline. They can't help it, it's instinctual.

They also dig surfers. Check out that form. It's like totally tubular brah!

A lesser known fact is that chicks melt for submarine captains.

Now if I can just get this turbine and condensor to kick on...

Ahoy ladies! This is your captain speaking. You have permission to board the Sub o' Love!

Cohen says that the females have a soft spot for furry creatures so we got in costume.

Liam the Lion. Roar!

Seeing as how I taught David Beckham that athlete + fashion = heartthrob, I figured an appearance on the soccer pitch would help out our image.

We were about to show off our mad soccer skillz but Cohen kept picking the ball up and running with it. This isn't football pal! Oh wait it is, or at least logically it should be called that.

Dude! You're embarrassing us in front of the ladies!

Ugh, let me show you how it's done.

First thing is you get your Dad to help you walk around and warm up.

Then you line up the shot like so.

Then BAM! Put some oomph into it. It's also a nice touch to put a little bend on it and tuck it into the top corner.

You see that follow through? I know I know, perfect form as always.

Of course after a goal you have to run around like a madman and celebrate. Here's what I call my abs of steel celebration. You're welcome ladies.

"Umm hi I've made a deposit in my pants. Do I leave that with you?"

This is what I look like as a Merman.

And this perfectly sums up of feelings about Math, Science, and Language. Clearly no chicks hanging out in this section.

Future NYT Best Seller "Liam the Killer"

My friend Scarlett recently wrote a loosely biographical novel about me which I though was brilliant. When I'm the main character of course it's brilliant, but this went way above and beyond my normal level of awesomeness. So feast your eyes on "Liam the Killer". (If you would like your own copy of this masterpiece please send a check or money order for $49.99 to Scarlett.)

Author and Muse

Father's day

I don't like to feed Pop's ego more than absolutely necessary, but I have to admit he's a pretty good dad. So in order to show him so love I took a plain old white onesie and made it worth millions by signing it. The fact that I even looked in it's general direction makes it worth at least $500k. Enjoy it Pops! You deserve it.

Shouldn't there be a Happy Son's Day? Or better yet King Liam day? Ooooo or King Liam century? I like the sound of that.

Pops will look great in this onesie.

11 months old!!!

My 11 month photoshoot was a bit of a kerfuffle. Rather than bloviate about it I'll just show you the highlights. ROLL THE CLIP!!

CUT!!! I refuse to continue to pose for these photos until I start getting better treatment around here!! Haven't you heard of child labor laws!

I'm sorry what did you say Pops? Excuse me?!! How dare you!!!

Take that! ZOK!!

Back for more eh? Fine, we'll settle this like men and duke it out then.

Flying Headbutt!!

En Garde!!

My nickname isn't Turbo Bulldozer for nothin'.

We'll call it a draw then.

Oh I see how it is. Just because you're ten times my size you think you can intimidate me?

Oh please, resorting to torture eh? I could stay like this all day. Ok that's not true. I'm starting to throw up a little. I give in, I'll pose for your dumb pictures.

Here is a rather erudite pose in my library.

Happy 11 months to me!!! I'll get you next time Pops.

I'm bringin' saxy back

Remember back in the 80's when saxophone's were cool. Of course you do. I know I do (I was in my late -20's back then...those were the good ol' days). Nothing like a little George Michael "Careless Whisper" sax solo to bring a tear to the eye. Well not to worry my peeps, I'm bringin' saxy back (Yeah). Check it: