Apparently, “check back tomorrow” means see you in a month, because it was a little over a month ago that I promised you guys Part 2, the thrilling conclusion to our “Taking My Breasts Back” story. I know that you guys are probably sitting there waiting for whatever lame excuse I try to use to explain my bad blogger behavior, but I’ve got news for you guys, this time there are no excuses, only facts. The factual (proven through scientific experimentation) reason that its taken so long to get this blog post out is because unbeknownst to me, I got sucked into some type of time warp that transported me through the space-time continuum in slow motion. I promise you, it was very Inception-ish, so in your minds, it may seem like an entire month has gone by, but in reality it has only been 24 hours since my last post (please disregard all time stamps and any other evidence that refutes my claims). So now that we’re all back together again ONE DAY later, why don’t we just jump right into the story and find out if I got my boobs back or if they’re still under the control of that dastardly (but cute) little monster called KayKay.
Yes, I am taking a stand and finally fighting for what’s rightfully mine. I’m taking my breasts back! Technically they aren’t my breasts per se, since they are attached to Fefe’s body and all, but we are married and what’s hers is ours, so legally they belong to me. Just trust me on this one folks, I’ve consulted a crack team of lawyers regarding personal property law & the firm’s most seasoned partner, a fellow by the name of Tre ensured me that I’m well within my rights.
When it comes to home cooked meals, chances are your Mother’s recipes are top notch. Growing up, your Mother’s cooking is pretty much all you know, so we tend to acquire a taste for Mom’s style and finesse in the kitchen. As we grow older and become exposed to a variety of food choices, some of the mystique and acclaim that Mom’s cooking once had tends to slightly fade away, but the roots of all those seasonings over the years are strong and engrained, so we typically find it very difficult to resist returning home from some of Mom’s good old fashion home cooked meals from time to time.
Last night I learned a valuable lesson: nice guys finish last! Yup, that’s right, I’m Mr. Nice Guy, I’m the husband who goes out of his way to ensure his wife is happy. I’m the Dad who would do anything to make his children smile. I’m the friend that would give you his last in a heartbeat. I’m Mr. Nice Guy, not an ounce of hate, meanness, or hostility in my body. You would think that such a personality would be rewarded for the kind acts of service put out into the world. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. Last night, I found out that there is no reward for being nice, there is no gold medal for helping people. Instead, you get paid in pain, humiliation, and emptiness. Therefore, after essentially hitting rock bottom by being ridiculed for my kind gestures, I’ve decided that there is no more Mr. Nice Guy, and you all can say hello to the Bad Guy; me reign of terror begins today.
Today I told Fefe to hit the road. I made her pack her bags and head for the hills. I just couldn’t take it anymore, today makes 9 very long months since things just haven’t been the same between us and I’ve finally put my foot down; enough is enough, the BS ends here!
And we’re back for the thrilling conclusion to our ‘No Means No’ post. Will our hero reach enlightenment and understand the true meaning behind the word humility? Will he stand and fight against those who plot to thwart his plans of ultimate rightness? Will the injustices put forth by those who are habitually wrong, but continue to think they are correct be stomped out like a bug? Find out the answers to all of these questions and more by reading part 2 of our 2 part mega saga below.
For those of you who don’t know me very well, I’ll let you in on a little secret; I am a self proclaimed know-it-all and have a well documented history of habitually being correct. I currently sit at an astonishing accuracy rating of 98.98% in all arguments, disagreements, debates, and disputes that I have ever been a part of. If you question the reliability of that factoid, I will be forced to showcase my brilliant wiseacre personality and prove to you just how wrong you are. To spare all of us some grieve, let’s just take my statistic at face value. Up until a few weekends ago, I was sitting pretty at 100%, yes, throughout my 30yrs of life on this earth I had never been wrong. Unfortunately, good things must come to an end and Fefe was the one to put me in my place, by teaching me that no means NO!!!
As I sit at my desk, typing up this blog post for your reading enjoyment, my fingers are crossed. Yes, you read that correctly, I am typing with the fingers of my right hand crossed. So don’t be alarmed if you come across a few typos, or entire words missing from a sentence, for that matter. Just know that it is a necessary evil that I must contend with if I want to provide you guys with these super intelligent and uber entertaining and informative blog posts. What could bring on such preposterous behavior? Why are you being forced to take such precautions? Should I have my fingers crossed as well? I know that these are the burning questions of desire on your mind at this very moment and I’m going to get straight to the point. YES, CROSS YOUR FINGERS, cross them now, go ahead. It is imperative for your future well-being. No, it won’t save you from some unforeseen impending natural disaster, and no, crossing your fingers won’t protect you from the next big pandemic that threatens to wipe humanity off the face of the Earth. But I’ll tell you what it will do; it’ll protect you from contracting the God awful CHEESE TOUCH!!!
It’s FRIDAY!!!!!!, YAYYYYY, we made it through another week. What better way to celebrate by having a little fun? I begged convinced my family to participate in this silly trend and create our own family Harlem Shake video. Since it’s Friday and everyone deserves a little jumpstart to their weekend, we decided to provide a little comic relief. Enjoy!!!
If you’re as clueless as I was about this whole Harlem Shake thing, read about it here before watching the video.
If you’ve participated in the madness that is the Harlem Shake craze, be sure to post a link to your vid below. We’d love to check it out.
Baby Guppy is here, she’s been here for nearly two weeks now and it has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. If you recall, she wasn’t suppose to enter this world until Feb 22nd, however, as you can tell little Miss Kayla Leigh-Ann Robertson decided that it was her time to shine and that no womb would hold her back. She was born on February 1, 2013 at 7:24PM, weighing 4lbs. 4oz. and 17in long. Since that day I have been in complete bliss and have been enjoying every moment of her precious little life.