As Bryan mentioned on Monday, the world didn’t end. Sadly, it’s true. Sorry folks, if you’re anything like me, you were equally disappointed to wake up Sunday morning and find that the world was still ripe with the un-raptured agents of dumbfuckery. I know, it came as a shock to everyone. But, I assure you, it’s going to be alright. We’re just going to have to live with the fact that the gullible idiots of the world really aren’t going anywhere. Church bells will continue to toll on Sundays. Televangelists will continue to blame Satan for their public homosexual affairs. Altar boys will remain nervous. Shitty, wholesome rock music will still be made. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but just sit back, grab a frosty brew, and relax. It’s all going to be okay.
The day he got married, the world only ended for Bryan’s testicles. It was a beautiful thing. And now that he’s had a good couple days to get over it and there are a thousand miles between us, I think he’s forgiven me for keeping him out all night before his wedding,
drinking pitchers of Rail Yard amber and throwing paper airplane dollar bills at strippers drinking pitchers of Rail Yard amber and throwing paper airplane dollar bills at strippers.
The wedding was a lot of fun. As far as the beer, wine, and lingering bachelor party hangover would allow, I recall it going something like this…
I guarded the ceremonial wedding rings with my life...and my sphincter. A drug smuggler couldn't have done better.
Next, I gave a stellar Best Man speech.
All in all, it was a great day, and an awesome trip home for the weekend.
Music: The Turtles
Beer: Rail Yard amber (from the Wynkoop Brewpub, bitches!)