Hello people,
Today's topic is dedicated to the no-good men of the world (hey, they need advice too - plus this is funny stuff). It centers around what seemingly seems to be a person of growing interest around the country, the Mistress. For all of us who tend to interpret the English language in a fashion that suits our particular desires, here is the Merriam-Webster definition of a mistress: A woman other than his wife with whom a man has a continual sexual relationship. Now, pending one's perspective she is either vilified or praised. Ladies, before you get your panties all up in a bunch, I am not condoning any shenanigans from my brethren. And fellas, don't get all giddy, I am not going to bequeath any of my past "Supreme Playa" knowledge on you either.
Kris the Critic is merely a servant to the people. It is my duty to write about the world around us. And right now, people....There is a lot of hanky panky going on. I'm not judging, I'm jus' sayin'...Mistresses are up 17.2% from last year. Ok, I made that up, but ya'll know it's way-y-y-y more sneaky freakin' goin' on than in years past. So, we'll go with the 17.2%. What's the big deal? It's causing problems. Folks are fighting, kids are cryin', losing money through divorce, even getting their wigs pushed back (that's street lingo for getting killed). Morality aside, there needs to be some sort of ROBERTS RULES OF HANDLING THE MISTRESS. Therefore, your favorite World Reporter has put together a list of 6 guidelines to quell any unpleasantries that may result from this forbidden union (mom, if you are reading this please note this is for entertainment purposes only). Back to all my cheaters, I mean readers. Here ya' go...
#6 Do not use your real name. Create sexy alias like "Denzel Pitt". This serves two purposes. a) It keeps her feeling like she's with a star when it's really just yo triflin ass and b) Yo don't want this psycho knowing your real name fool. (Hell, 75% of Mistresses are certified crazy - and that is a real statistic). If she gets your name, she'll eventually have your social security number and credit card information.
#5 Never ever, never ever, never ever use your home (or any relatives home) as the spot for your secret rendevous. This gentlemen, is future ammo for when she snaps...AND SHE WILL EVENTUALLY SNAP. You don't want the mistress to ever blab on and on about the way she likes how your wife decorated the house. Not good. This is a sure fire way to wake up with "Al Green - Hot" grits on your face.
#4) Refer to her as YOUR MISTRESS. These psycho broads somehow, everytime will begin to think they are more than a sidepiece. Kris The Critic is clueless as to why, but I HEAR IT HAPPENS (yes honey, that's what I heard from Tyrone an' nem). Calling her a mistress reminds her frequently that her purpose is relegated to your personal sexual happiness only.
#3) Become a life coach for your Mistress. This will win you a few friend points. This is of vital importance. The day will come when you are racking your brain to get rid of this friggin headache of a woman. Maybe when she goes ballistic, she'll at least show some mercy "because he was also my friend"
#2) Use a condom. DNA and disease are real. The first can get you life in prison if she she screams rape. The latter can take your life. So, just like your teacher's told you as a child - Play safe. Besides, you don't want her getting pregnant, do you? Mistresses are 30% more likely to get pregnant than your spouse. So, do not just give away another 20% of your paycheck away.
#1) Do not ever give your mistress money. I'm not saying be a tight-ass. You can buy meals, drinks, clothes, motel stays (all in cash of course), but never give her money directly. Listen, nothing says I care like a wad of money. And you do not want her to think you care. Secondly, the number 1 cause for divorce is finance. After you are caught (and you will eventually be caught), your wife can stomach you having a romp in the hay. She will not stomach yo dumb ass giving away the kids tuition money.
Ok boys, have at it. You are now armed with the tools you need to prolong f#$@ing up your marriage. But hey, at least you'll have some fun and keep some dignity doing it. I can't give out any more advice because then I'd have to charge you for it. That's why you only get 6 reasons. There are really 10 that exist.
So, am I insane? Did I leave out any vital piece of information?
Be safe,
KRIS THE CRITIC
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Flight 303
Greetings Earthlings,
This blog is a tribute to those who have dared to go where few men have ever gone before. It is a dedication to a few special individuals who have braved the elements of an unknown journey in the name of love. These men have put their own needs aside in spite of an arduous task set before them. This blog is a formal expression of praise for dad's everywhere who have taken a 4 hour flight, alone with a baby. Ladies and gentlemen, KRIS THE CRITIC has joined the ranks of this elite group of parents who have been blessed with patience second only to Jesus Christ himself...OR...are as dumb as a box of rocks for agreeing to torture themselves. Now that I have lived through this mind numbing experience, my thoughts can be summed up in a few words..."WHAT IN THE F#%@ WAS I THINKING"! I am definitely part of the latter group of idiots. I know what your thinking. KRIS THE CRITIC, we've seen that little doll of yours. You are surely exaggerating. Well, screw you. You guys weren't there. We flew from Chicago to LA. My little precious baby turned into a "Chuckie" Doll for a few hours. For a few moments, I thought her head was going to spin around and she'd vomit all over me. Well, her head stayed intact, but she did vomit all over me, multiple times...It all started out so peaceful. What happened?...Let's examine the day's events...
8:20am - Baby and I arrived at O'hare airport. She loves riding in cars, this was no exception...What a sweet little girl. Muah! You are about to go on your first airplane. Yippeeee!
8:35am - Dang, this airport security line is longer than The Eagle roller coaster at Great America - circa 1989. The Baby is getting slightly antsy.
9:05am - First sign of frustration. Along with taking of my shoes, belt, coat, etc. I have to do the same for the baby...AND break down the stroller and disassemble the car seat. I am officially starting to perspire.
9:15am - I can't believe this fake-a$$ airport security chumps are inspecting baby food for this length of time...Does Similac have financial holdings in Iraq...WTF! Do they think the baby brought a bag of weed. Geez....
9:25am - Now that we've made it pass the Keystone Kops. I gotta change my little baby girl in the men's room (Hmmm...she's only 6 months - but I still gotta keep my eye on these perverts). That's was easy. It was only a wet didy.
10:15 - Whew. Finally on the plane. I'm a little winded. Hmmm, she will probably sleep the entire time. Yup, this will be cake.
10:30 - Liftoff! I'll give her a little bottle so her little ears won't pop and she'll be sleep in no time. This is so easy.
10:50 - I tell the little old lady next to me that I won't need her assistance (like I want her grubby old paws on my little lady)
11:30 - After singing the entire Thriller album, my little lady drifts off to sleep. Hey, she's a Michael Jackson fan. I'm not that bad of a singer, I think the folks around me enjoyed it...And I am ready for a nap my self. My neck is a getting little achy. See you guys in LA.
11:57am - What! the nap ended already. She's squirming and crying. Hmmm. My singing's not working. Hmmm...What's that smell? Geez, that flight attendant needs to take that trash to the back. Wow, that's putrid...Uh-oh, is that my baby? Off to the restroom. This is not going to be good.
12:35pm - I now realize that you do not dress to look good travelling with a baby. My True Religion Jeans and Perry Ellis sweater now have a tie-dyed look from the various colors of baby vomit. Next time, I'm wearing a painters outfit or better yet, a hefty bag.
12:52pm - How do they expect anyone to travel with a baby in these little seats? MY NECK IS KILLING ME!! I need a massage. Where did the old lady go?...PLEASE STOP CRYING! (I'm rocking, I'm singing, I'm rocking, I'm singing...) Are we there YET?
1:05pm - Thank God for this old lady next to me. The baby FINALLY stopped crying. I should have let her hold the baby two hours ago...And now I can crawl under the seat and find the other shoe which is lost yet again.
1:28pm - I gotta get back in the gym. I'm having shortness of breath. I hope this isn't a heart attack. If I die. I'm suing McDonald's...Back to my seat.
1:45pm - Ahhh...I have a sitter. Time for a little nap for daddy.
2:30pm - WTF! We're here already! I was JUST getting to sleep. Well, at least we made it safely.
Now that this experience is over, I can say this. Babies needs mommies. Daddies just aren't built for certain activities. This is one of them. Once this crook in my neck subsides, I'll cook my darling wife dinner for the next week. Have any of you great dad's had similar experiences?
KRIS THE CRITIC
This blog is a tribute to those who have dared to go where few men have ever gone before. It is a dedication to a few special individuals who have braved the elements of an unknown journey in the name of love. These men have put their own needs aside in spite of an arduous task set before them. This blog is a formal expression of praise for dad's everywhere who have taken a 4 hour flight, alone with a baby. Ladies and gentlemen, KRIS THE CRITIC has joined the ranks of this elite group of parents who have been blessed with patience second only to Jesus Christ himself...OR...are as dumb as a box of rocks for agreeing to torture themselves. Now that I have lived through this mind numbing experience, my thoughts can be summed up in a few words..."WHAT IN THE F#%@ WAS I THINKING"! I am definitely part of the latter group of idiots. I know what your thinking. KRIS THE CRITIC, we've seen that little doll of yours. You are surely exaggerating. Well, screw you. You guys weren't there. We flew from Chicago to LA. My little precious baby turned into a "Chuckie" Doll for a few hours. For a few moments, I thought her head was going to spin around and she'd vomit all over me. Well, her head stayed intact, but she did vomit all over me, multiple times...It all started out so peaceful. What happened?...Let's examine the day's events...
8:20am - Baby and I arrived at O'hare airport. She loves riding in cars, this was no exception...What a sweet little girl. Muah! You are about to go on your first airplane. Yippeeee!
8:35am - Dang, this airport security line is longer than The Eagle roller coaster at Great America - circa 1989. The Baby is getting slightly antsy.
9:05am - First sign of frustration. Along with taking of my shoes, belt, coat, etc. I have to do the same for the baby...AND break down the stroller and disassemble the car seat. I am officially starting to perspire.
9:15am - I can't believe this fake-a$$ airport security chumps are inspecting baby food for this length of time...Does Similac have financial holdings in Iraq...WTF! Do they think the baby brought a bag of weed. Geez....
9:25am - Now that we've made it pass the Keystone Kops. I gotta change my little baby girl in the men's room (Hmmm...she's only 6 months - but I still gotta keep my eye on these perverts). That's was easy. It was only a wet didy.
10:15 - Whew. Finally on the plane. I'm a little winded. Hmmm, she will probably sleep the entire time. Yup, this will be cake.
10:30 - Liftoff! I'll give her a little bottle so her little ears won't pop and she'll be sleep in no time. This is so easy.
10:50 - I tell the little old lady next to me that I won't need her assistance (like I want her grubby old paws on my little lady)
11:30 - After singing the entire Thriller album, my little lady drifts off to sleep. Hey, she's a Michael Jackson fan. I'm not that bad of a singer, I think the folks around me enjoyed it...And I am ready for a nap my self. My neck is a getting little achy. See you guys in LA.
11:57am - What! the nap ended already. She's squirming and crying. Hmmm. My singing's not working. Hmmm...What's that smell? Geez, that flight attendant needs to take that trash to the back. Wow, that's putrid...Uh-oh, is that my baby? Off to the restroom. This is not going to be good.
12:35pm - I now realize that you do not dress to look good travelling with a baby. My True Religion Jeans and Perry Ellis sweater now have a tie-dyed look from the various colors of baby vomit. Next time, I'm wearing a painters outfit or better yet, a hefty bag.
12:52pm - How do they expect anyone to travel with a baby in these little seats? MY NECK IS KILLING ME!! I need a massage. Where did the old lady go?...PLEASE STOP CRYING! (I'm rocking, I'm singing, I'm rocking, I'm singing...) Are we there YET?
1:05pm - Thank God for this old lady next to me. The baby FINALLY stopped crying. I should have let her hold the baby two hours ago...And now I can crawl under the seat and find the other shoe which is lost yet again.
1:28pm - I gotta get back in the gym. I'm having shortness of breath. I hope this isn't a heart attack. If I die. I'm suing McDonald's...Back to my seat.
1:45pm - Ahhh...I have a sitter. Time for a little nap for daddy.
2:30pm - WTF! We're here already! I was JUST getting to sleep. Well, at least we made it safely.
Now that this experience is over, I can say this. Babies needs mommies. Daddies just aren't built for certain activities. This is one of them. Once this crook in my neck subsides, I'll cook my darling wife dinner for the next week. Have any of you great dad's had similar experiences?
KRIS THE CRITIC
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
