Hi you guys.
Today, we’re RECAPPING, and by “we,” I mean I. You are not to be disappointed. I have a plethora of pictures – some hot and some not – because I have to keep it real, and strike a nice balance for my lovers and my haters…because I care about EVERYONE (I am yelling)!
Let’s start with the fact that HB and I hit and quit Miami over the weekend.
We rolled into town Friday morning, then peaced early Sunday afternoon. It was fabulous.
I spent 95% of the trip laying down, looking at the ocean, in the sun, with a buzz, wearing next-to-nothing.
Here’s that full body shot you were waiting for (HB finally agreed to take it).
(Vagina lines on point).
Here’s what I looked at most of the time…
Now, before you become consumed with jealousy, the trip wasn’t perfect. I strained my left deltoid upon arrival (stage 2, self-diagnosis) when I haphazardly threw my suitcase into the trunk of the car. *note: I like to carry my own bags, 1). Because I can. 2). Because I ain’t no DNB.*
Minor setback that stopped me from nothing, but worth mentioning.
I treated myself with Advil and ice and I managed to document the monumental occasion with an ugly selfie.
You are welcome.
UFC HERE I COME! HB can’t wait.
Speaking of fucking shit up, yesterday was my first day back at the gym in a week, and it felt phenomenal. I find solace in exercise. It’s always my happy place, and something I never regret. After some
basic next-level boxing, I did some accessory work and tore my hands up. In a sick and twisted way, I kinda love it. Despite bloody blisters, I still finished my final set of pull ups…Oooooohhhh snap! Drop tha mic…
So now you understand why I don’t have tolerance for pussies. “Oh, you need “extra” padding for your hands/feet because it’s uncomfortable for about 3 seconds?” GET. THE FUCK. OUT OF HERE. Like for real. I want nothing to do with you.
It’s been real. I love you. Namaste.