I'm Not a Robot. Really. Also pictures.

Once I wanted to write a comment on my friends blog. She was far away in Fiji and I wanted to say some words in response to her blog. Not an especially strange event. And then I was told, before I could post it, Please prove you're not a robot. Me? Me please prove I'm not a robot? How about you. How about you prove that?

OH WAIT!!

YOU ARE A ROBOT BECAUSE YOU ARE THE COMPUTER!!

At least more robot than me.

So that's weird.

How many robots actually try to post comments on personal blog posts? Is there a job somewhere that a person designs robots who are programmed to comment on random people's blog posts, and now that person is thwarted because their robots cannot prove, indeed, that they are not robots.

This is just something I don't understand.

Also the wiggle song by Jason Derulo. What. The. Possum Jason Derulo?! Where were you that you thought this song was okay?!

I first heard the melodic strains of the Wiggle song in the car with my brothers and at the time fiance and we weren't really paying attention to it when the words, "Whatcha gonna do with that big fat butt? Wiggle wiggle wiggle." sounded.

And we changed the station.

And I thought to myself, it cannot be that anyone actually likes this song. But apparently it is popular because it keeps popping up more and more.

Which leads me to another thought on this same topic - what kind of woman subjects herself to being the subject of such a song. There's a music video for this song. What kind of woman dances in such a video?

YOU ARE BEING COMPLETELY OBJECTIFIED BY THE SIZE OF YOUR BOOTY, HON!

People with a beef about feminism should start here. I agree that women should not be shoved under the radar, trampled upon, or treated as less than men. But could we start here? Could we begin with the popular music that says we should shake it like a polaroid picture to please a man who doesn't otherwise know us?

Sorry to take that in an actually serious direction in what has mostly been a nonsense post. But really. At least Beyonce - who, let's be real, shakes it a fair amount - takes some steps to empower women. She sings about Pretty hurting and how we should be treated as people not just "pretty objects". Not trying to make a huge overwraught statement with that.

Switching gears though, so I can post some of the pictures from the wedding.

I don't have all the official pictures yet, but in a recent post I made reference to my toast (given by Kevin, who for his credit, as of Sunday had never even heard the Wiggle song so way to rock) and here is me with the toast:

This was taken at the wedding luncheon, as well as this awfully fierce piece featuring me and best lad Sean.

For anyone wondering, yes, he is wearing the centerpiece from the table, and I'm not wearing my shoes because those stinkers gave me blisters.

Before we throw the wedding shoes under the proverbial bus, it should be acknowledged that I super procrastinated on trying to break them in. It wasn't until the Tuesday before the wedding that I finally realized if I didn't get on that right then, then those shoes were going to be utter misery. So I put them on while I watched "What to Expect While You're Expecting" on Netflix with Reilly. Naturally I did this while also wearing wool socks and used a blow dryer to loosen them as well. 

So as it was they were only slight misery instead of utter misery. But misery nonetheless.

The last picture I will post for today's post is from my daddy daughter dance. My dad is the best dad of all dads. You can feel free to disagree but not to the point of saying anything to me about it because he's MY best dad.