Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Lone Star State of Mind

As I've currently a readership of about 9 people, most of which are people I talk on the phone to regularly, I haven't felt the need to post the "Gone Fishin'," sign, as it were. But, in case a few interlopers wander through, get curious about the lack of updates and call the police in a panic thinking I've died at my computer chair from a combination of Cheeze-It abuse and lack of natural light...

No worries. I'm in Texas.

This is my home state. Currently, I'm sitting in my parents house, blogging from the fancy computer that is way nicer than my own and is being used by my mother to occasionally check what's playing at the mall's movie theater and, every solstice or so, order something from Old Navy. Not that I am in any way bitter. My mother is a saint and deserves a nice computer. I'm just wondering how I can fit the monitor into my suitcase and how long it will take her to notice that I've left a crude drawing of a 1950's cabniet-style TV in it's place.

Anyway, yes... Texas. I'm here for a wedding. My friend Joel is getting married and I've been asked to be his Best Man. Though the idea of wearing a tuxedo outdoors in south Texas in May, where it feels like you're breathing through a damp gym sock, always, doesn't thrill me, I'm happy for him and am glad to be a part of the festivities. As long as there is booze. If this is a "dry" wedding, I swear to leapin' Jesus I will trash the place with my bare hands, using my cummerbund as a whip to beat back those that would attempt to quell my uprising. I'd like to think I'd have an army of supporters behind me, but you never know. Bride-loyalists, who've been brainwashed into thinking that a "juice n' cake" reception is a keen idea, might form a steely wall against my efforts and then I'd have no recourse but to chug the celebratory bottle of Cliquot after I'd barricaded myself in the rectory.

So yeah. Hope there's drinks.

Updates will commence as soon as I am out of prison or, roughly, Monday. Love y'all!

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