What if There is a Clause that says they get to clone us?

Good afternoon readers. I apologize for the lack of updates over the last few days, I took a minor break from the digital world. Back on track, Tyrone and I spent the weekend watching The Matrix. Now, I must disclose, this is the first time I have ever seen it. I know. I know. Unbelievable! Of course this lead to discussions of how technology has advanced in the last ten years, including the XBox and the fact that you can use their controllers with computers now. This discussion lead to my downloading the software to allow me to use the controller for my computer. Thus the following conversation happened:

Me: Is this the right one?

Tyrone: Yes. Now click this link and the terms and conditions should come up

(sure enough they do)

Tyrone: Just click yes.
Me: Okay.

Tyrone: What if like, one thing they don't tell you, is that there is a clause in the terms and conditions that says when you die, they get to clone you?

Me:....what?

Tyrone: Think about it. Nobody ever reads them, so they would never know. They would just show up, and be like at the funeral like"yo..we got rights to this body. According to the terms and conditions agreement, we get to clone them" and there would be NOTHING we could do!

Me:........

This, I have to admit, is one of my favorites. Still, I fail to understand this reasoning. 

You have Nice Hands.

So Tyrone has this thing about wanting to play Xbox together as a couple. Fine and all, except he likes fighter games. I don't. Not really big on beating people up in games. I keep trying to tell him this, but he insists we try. Today, he tried to get me to play Marvel vs. Capcom and as always I said no. Of course, you can just imagine the conversation. Or how about I just post it here?

Tyrone: C'mon! Play with me!

Me: You know I don't like fighting games. Stop trying to make me play one I don't like.

Tyrone: But you would be so good at it! I really think you could be great at fighting games!

Me: Why would you think that?

Tyrone: Because you have nice hands.

Me: What?!
Tyrone: If you can give a massage, you can play fighting games.

I have no idea what is behind this logic or why he feels this way. All I know, is it is just more material for me to post here on the internet for the entire world to see then point and laugh at him. 

And with that, I say good night all. Happy Mothers Day to all you moms out there, and feel free to share some stuff your husbands, boyfriends, children, etc say with me. So that I know this isn't just random and more of a guy thing. 

It's Like a Penis..Only Not.

So last night, Tyrone wanted to watch the game. Cool. Fine. Whatev. I can runaway to the computer. I don't like sports in any, way, shape or form. (Girl. Duh.) However, he is usually pretty good about letting me watch what I wanna watch most of the time, so why not? I get up and leave the room, when I hear just random noises.

"What in the hell?" I thought. Being the nosy person I am, I go to check it out. I see Tyrone, on the couch flipping channels. Now mind you, this is nothing new, nor is it something I like. It drives me bonkers. 

"What are you doing?" I ask. "I thought you were watching the basketball game?"

"I am." He replies. "It's just on break." 

This of course prompted the following conversation:

Me: Why are you flipping the channels?

Tyrone: Because it's what men do. It's how we watch t.v.

Me: Why? It's annoying.

Tyrone: The remote. See it here? It's like a penis, only not. It's an extension of me and defines me as a man.

Me: *blank stare*

Tyrone: Yeah. Just start recording me every time I talk.

He has a point. Maybe I should just invest in a recording device to keep track of our conversations. With that, friends, I sign off. It's a beautiful, sunny Saturday here and it must be spent grocery shopping. Peace, love and bullet proof marshmallows. 

Yo Momma

Like every male that ever existed, Tyrone gets on my nerves. Not all the time, just a lot of the time. Usually I just tell him to shut up, he'll reply with one of the three following

"F*** you, white lady!"
"You're racist!"
"It's because I am black, isn't it?"

I have grown used to this, figuring it just comes with the territory of being in an interracial relationship. So why should I assume that the other night would be any different?

Tyrone: *humming the FANDANGO tune from WWE*
Me: Shut up! That's annoying!
Tyrone: *keeps humming it*
Me: Seriously! Stop
Tyrone:......YO MOMMA! *walks away*

Apparently we still live in the '90's. Whatever works I suppose. Most of the time, I don't know if it is just because he likes to hear himself talk, or if he legit likes to get the last word in. I don't really know if I'll ever find out.

The Cow Goes Moo and Y is Yellow, also Squirttles.

This is one I can't exactly remember every detail on. I don't quite know what prompted this, but there are days where Tyrone just simply walks around the apartment singing or talking to himself. I know, I know, everyone does it. Here's the thing, you already know this isn't going to be normal. One day in January, he decided to walk around the apartment:

"The cow goes moo and y is yellow." 

I assure you. He is a grown man. He'll be 29 in August, but there are certainly times I need to remind myself. Especially on days where he needs to sing about Poke'mon:

"Squirttle, squirttle, squirttle. squirttle."

Try listening to that for two hours straight. Yeah. It's stuck in your head now right? Have fun with that. 

It Tastes like Jesus.

When Tyrone and I first started dating, we spent a lot of time driving around, looking for things to do. Seems a bit redundant, but to be honest, Tulsa isn't exactly "couple friendly". It was one of these days we decided to stop at Sonic-Drive In for their happy hour. As he placed the order, he tried to steer me away from the tame Cherry Limeade and get me to try a Powerade slush. This conversation happened then.

Tyrone:*takes a drink of his slush* OH MY GOD IT IS SO GOOD!

Me: Is it now?

Tyrone: YES! IT TASTES LIKE JESUS!

Me:*stares right at him* Isn't that like, sacreligious or something? How do you know what Jesus tastes like?

Tyrone: This drink. It is a religious experience. This is what Jesus tastes like.

Me: Do you go around licking Jesus? Do you own a bottle of his sweat?

Tyrone: No. I just imagine. And this, my friend, is the Jesus of all Jesus'. THIS TASTES LIKE JESUS!

This is just the begging, dear readers. We have been dating for nearly a year now, and thus, I have MANY of these gems just tucked away in my brain. Keep reading, and whore these out to your friends, because you know, it's my job to make sure he is good and embarrassed. Until next time.