My Weekend Plans
One of my oldest friends is getting married this weekend. I have known this dude, since grade school when the nuns used to smack us with rulers, I have known this son-of-a-bitch since Moses wore shorts, since we were knee high to a grass hopper, etc. etc. etc.
So, last night I picked up my tux for his wedding from the shop, tried it on, and to my surprise it fit me really well and I did not have to have it altered in any way, so that was a bonus! We then had dinner at Houlihan’s on 95th street with his parents and another one of my best friends that is in the wedding. He gets to be the best man, which I am pretty stoked that I don’t have to do because it is a lot of crap that you have to do before the wedding.
The best man’s responsibilities are as follows: Plan the bachelor party. (We went to Las Vegas for a couple of days, you know the rule, what happens in Vegas, NEVER happened). The second responsibility is to get the groom to the church/chapel/courthouse on time and sober enough to stand without swaying, and say “I do”.
The third is the toast at the wedding, this is the tough part, you have to make it funny while not offensive, sweet but not gay, and find a way to let all the hot drunk chicks know that I am the only eligible single dude left in the world, that is not a queer, without embarrassing me. Which is no easy task, I get embarrassed very easily and when that happens I usually do 1 of 2 things but never both, 1) I could possibly puck on the person sitting next to me causing them to punch me in the face, if they are male, or kicking me in the scrotum, if they are female, and then me running out of the room sobbing hysterically. Or 2) stand there petrified and wet myself because of the sheer terror of being put in the spot light and then run out of the room crying hysterically. Both of which could me to be found afterward at home, under my bed, naked, in the fetal position, sucking my thumb while stroking the head of my stuffed Big Bird animal and singing happy birthday to myself. But I am getting off track here; my point is that the best man has a lot of shit to do.
So, with this guy getting married leaves just me as the only single dude left from the crowd of misfits that I ran with from high school and still run with today. That is when their hot bitchy wives let them out of the house.
Tonight is the rehearsal dinner at the bride’s mother’s friend’s house. I have not met any of her friends or her family, but have been told by the groom that everyone there will be married so I will probably just get drunk and puck on someone, instead of wet myself, for a change. Or I could get drunk and pick a fight with the bride’s father, I haven't done that for a long time.
Tomorrow those of us in the wedding party have to be at the chapel at 2:00 for pictures. And lets be honest the pre-party of which I have to bring the beer and other booze for everyone else to drink, except the bridal party they can get there own hooch.
On Sunday I have to cut my grass and power wash my house because we will be painting it in May. By we, I mean my younger brother, brother-in-law and at least 4 of my friend’s.
Coming up in the next week pre-review and post-reviews of, The Crawl for cancer pub crawl in Westport on the 29th and another wedding on May 5th.
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Random Headlines
Are you kidding me!
Why doesn’t this stuff ever happen to me? Right, because I am afraid to gamble.
What? Smoking is bad for you?
Why didn’t someone tell me that smoking was bad for me? Now I will have to drive though Roeland Park, Fairway, and Prairie Village, even faster.
I want to vote for “the D”!
Talk about full of yourself, I mean shit if I was this conceded then I would just stay home and masturbate constantly because I am so fucking awsome!
Asta-la-vista!
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