So. The Larva got married tonight. And The Lucilles showed up and very crassly began to shove tables together so that the reception area would suit OUR needs and who-the-h3ll cares about your effing wedding ettiquette just don't run out of beer and I will sort-of behave.
Seriously, if the matron-of-honor's speech contains the words "I had too many Jello shots" then it is really too much to ask us to pay attention to a seating chart!
In lieu of a guest book at the door, she had this photo-book that I immediately noticed bore a very close likeness to a high school yearbook. Luckily, the night was still young and I was still sober, so I was able to contain my urge to sign it with typical yearbook quips such as "stay kewl" or "I want to be the first to sign your crack!"
During the course of the evening however, I failed to restrain myself and I managed to: help DownUnder take her first shot of tequila EVER, danced the first Dollar Dance with the bride and shoved money into her cleavage. AnD SOMeONE had the brilliant idea of leaving cards and pens for us to contribute Marriage Advice to the happy couple.
Our table(s) had some great ones: Nothing says I Love You like clean underwear, No women at the deer lease, There are other things you can do in the kitchen besides cook, and a gem of a quote that only proves that once I have had beer AND tequila, all implements of communication should probably be taken out of my reach:
Condoms Sometimes Fail.
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