Quote:
Originally posted by Did you just call me Coltrane?
Christ, I'm usually three sheets by the time I get to the cake.
Closing the bar for dinner really pisses me off.
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I did not get to eat the cake at my first wedding because I stopped at a bar for shots of Goldschlager (ugh) on the way from the ceremony to the reception and then drank a bottle of tequila with the only person at the reception that I liked (a college friend who also had shown up late to my shower with a gift of crotchless panties and a peek-a-boo bra which almost gave my soon to be mother-in-law (fucking cunt) a heart attack). For my second marriage we went down to the courthouse one day and got married by a judge -- no cake but I had to go back to work anyway. I did not eat cake at my sister's wedding because I was outside getting into a "shoving match that almost turned into a fistfight" with some piece of shit kid who I once babysat for -- luckily I had chosen my own maid of honor dress which permitted such activities. I hate weddings so I normally just send a check.
I don't worry about closed bars -- I bring my own cooler of brewskies with me everywhere I go.
edited to wonder aloud how the tomato basil versus asparagus soup turned into weddings -- I don't recall Str8 saying that this dinner is for a wedding. Did I black out again?
