September 28, 2012


A new chapter has begun in my life, and no, it doesn't have anything to do with better, more viscous motor oil for my dirt bikes, it's all about being a HUSBAND. That's right, instead of the shopping and eating I would've normally done on Saturday September 15, 2012, I got married and ate. I'm now legally obligated to be a one-woman man, which is very easy because my one woman has everything, man. Sorry girls of the gworld, from now on I'll have to live by "look but don't touch" as opposed to the non-legal period of our relationship where Liv imposed "touch but don't look". Did you know that while blind, a nose feels like a perfectly toned little rear?

It was the best day of my life, easily beating out the day I puked at the circus. The whole wedding went according to plan, except the pandas I ordered wouldn't eat the bamboo cake covered in caramel, they just sort of fell asleep and got bothered by all the bees.

Seriously though, there were bees. Four people got stung at the rehersal including my Mrs. whom I ran away from as soon as I realized there were bees around. It's okay, she knows I'm a weakling which is why I asked all wedding attendees to give us grenades as gifts.

Getting married is a strange and wonderful thing. You spend months and months planning the thing, spending time with the male members of her family in a series of escalating battles culminating in a no holds barred, weapon of your choice, covered in margarine battle royale in a viper pit, and then in a matter of 8 hours it's all over. Then you kiss for awhile in paradise and then go back to work.

The Bride and Best Man re-materializing after their traditional trip to Pre-Historic times. He brought me back big tusks.

For our kissings, we spent time in Hawaii, which most people agree is probably the last place we'd want to hand over to the aliens when they get here. We were on the island of Oahu which is famous for being the home of Dog "The Man" the Bounty Hunter as well as being a place Japan simply couldn't stand in 1941. The locals love surfing so much that they basically don't have much time for anything else, including fashion and music. They all wear bathing suits and t-shirts with surfing on it, and the only music we heard was a form of reggae and/or something that sounds like Jack Johnson, who also only wears t-shirts and bathing suits.

But really, it was quite the place! During our time at the famous North Shore, where the worlds' best surfers come to talk recipes, we were lucky to see some huge, unseasonable waves which made for some memorable "oh yeahs!". I actually didn't try surfing because when we went snorkeling I got nauseous. The sea is definitely beautiful but it tastes like really bad fries and burns my eyes. You'd think after a lifetime of rain, the damn thing would be watered down by now. 

Took in a funeral!

David Letterman's Top 10 Signs You're Married

10. You have a ring on the finger between your inky pinky and the middle fucker
9. You have a baby and it's considered beautiful thing, not a travesty
8. Your taxes are different
7. There's this other family who knows you pretty well
6. You owe the tuxedo rental company some money
5. There's pictures of you with a woman and you're both eating a big cake
4. Christians shake your hand
3. Someone is taking money from your bank account but the cops say it's just fine
2. There's a pile of free stuff in your living room and it looks like Christmas for a middle-aged woman
1. You're miserable ahahahahahahahahahahahhahahaha

The future should be good provided I hit the big time and can afford to buy my baby all the tackle she desires. Until then we're going to be a regular, apple polishin' family unit. Stop by our pad some time to experience what true love smells like.

The Macaulays

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