In the Height of Roman Fashion...

I am never going to a wedding again. Not my own and certainly not anyone elses. Okay, maybe somebody elses. But I'm not drinking. And I'm certainly never putting another piece of chicken in my bra. Or making out with anyone I don't even like much. And I'll never do another dance number where I land on the floor and try to pretend that I meant to by faux break-dancing. And I think pretending to be a 'wine sprinkler' was not very nice even though I made sure someone had a Tide Stain-Removal Pen first. And yes, I know that flower arrangements are not pinatas. And I didn't even see the cake, let alone eat any. And I spilled quite my fair share of Champagne but mostly on myself. And I'm sorry, god, mostly for trying to steal someone elses fiancee for my friend Teva by telling her she looked so juicy from across the room that we all wanted to squeeze her...etc. etc. etc. Oh yes and starting a Battle Royale between guest tables, although this was not all me...

But I have been enjoying looking at this:

  • Current Mood

Butter on Rye

I deleted my account for no apparent reason and then turned it back on again. My life is pretty dull and this is what counts for excitement around here. If anyone actually noticed, please remind me to give you a dollar the next time I see you and you can buy yourself some candy, a plastic ring or choose three to five songs to be played by your local jukebox. Enjoy.