To George and Susan on Their Wedding Day

This is not the toast I gave, but the toast I wrote before I was convinced that this toast was better absorbed through the eyeballs than the auditory nerve.  The actual toast I gave will follow on a later date.  Following that, I may give a lecture on how to give toasts, depending on how these two posts are received.*

"There's been a lot of talk about the definition of marriage lately. *Pause for laughter*  People have argued this til the boring end, and yet I do not stand here to speak about the definition of marriage.  I wonder about the meaning of marriage.  What does it mean for two people to stand in front of their friends and family and declare that they will be married.  What does it mean in this world, in this time, for two people to be married?

We hear no end of suffering, we see no end to bloodshed, we see no peace among the disparate groups of humans on this planet.  Misery seeps through our lives, infecting every aspect.  Cynicism rots our core until we can no longer raise a hand in aid of another.  What does it matter that two people wish to join their lives, to entwine their fates, in the face of such utter hopelessness, despair, and cynicism?  What can we do as witnesses, but bear the silent burden?

Bear with me, folks, this does lead to a point. * Pause for nervous laughter.*

When two people stand up to be married, they are defying the naysayers, the broken ones, and the fearmongers.  Two people who love each other enough to stand in front of those they value most in the world to say "I love you, and will hold your heart above all else in this world" are expressing defiance.  Defiance in the face of despair, hope in the face of suffering, and romance in the depths of cynicism.

Marriage is the ultimate rebellion.  Marriage is punk rock.  Marriage is a middle finger held up to an uncaring universe.  Marriage is a defiance of the unending wave of terror that floods our lives from all directions.  Marriage is a beacon of warmth, love, hope, and romance in a threatening world, and we witnesses will always be ready to remind you of this day.  This day when you stood in front of all the people who matter to you and said, "I love you, and take thee to be my partner in all things."

* Received has always looked like a misspelled word to me.

Goofy Confessions Used to be Thing

Confessional Mondays or whatever used to be one of those go-to joke posts or go-to emotional posts that people would use for inspiration in the days before Facebook consumed all everything.  To remind myself to attempt to live up to my own ideals, here is a hopefully funny, but probably lamely egotistical posts.*

I often confuse Cracker Barrel with Crate and Barrel.

I thoroughly enjoy and support high school robotics competitions, but worry about the use of drone technology by any entity.

I don't read as much as I'd like, but I am playing video games much less than earlier times in my life.

I can barely keep up with the pace of the New Yorker's print schedule, mostly because I spend so much time in my garden during the day.

I have not applied to jobs because I was worried I would be offered those jobs.

I find mowing my lawn tedious, but will spend hours weeding around my roses, hyacinths, irises, and lilies.

I am willing to shoot a deer, but almost cried when I ran over a hiding rabbit with my lawnmower. 

I refuse to look in medical textbooks, unless I am forced to perform surgery after the whateveralypse.

I have many books on my shelves that I haven't read because I want my guests to think I have read them.  This desire has greatly lessened since Lady Chemisty joined my life.

I like to think advertising doesn't work on me.

I have yet to finish writing a single story.

* 90% of this sentence is redundant.

Washington Times Video of DC's Regional Air Guitar Competition

I'm in it, briefly.

Hobbies And Wikipedia

I was strolling around Wikipedia* and looked up some information on one of my hobbies. I was looking at a page and then wondered what the discussion page looked like. People sure do get snippy over a crappy army that my titan would roll over in two turns.

Pictures of the painting process of that titan are coming soon. If I care about something, that means you care about it, too. That is how this whole bloggio thing works, people.

*STROLLING, not trolling. I never mess around with pages because I just don't have enough tolerance to deal with the people that seem to care about their little corner of the wikiwebtubenet.

The Celebration Schedule

Why have a birthday party when you can have a week long series of events in your honor?

Monday night - Fort Reno with Pup Tent, North of Canada, and RaRa Rasputin.
Tuesday night - Iota with The Moderate, Brandon Butler, and The Wax Standard.
Wednesday night- Class with Our Instructor and Adobe Creative Suite 3. I will probably play Guitar Hero until my arms cramp after class.
Thursday night - Fort Reno with Statehood, Imperial China, and Tsarina. (What's with all the commies this week? It's like a tribute to my childhood!)
Friday night - Guitar Hero and libations at Le Maison du Smartass.

If you can't make it to these events, I expect epic gifts in the mail. If you don't know my mailing address, just guess. Someone will end up happy.

In yet another public calling out, I have found three bands that have been around for a while that fulsome would probably like, if he weren't married to his job and his cable television:
Death By Sexy (don't judge a band by their goofy name)
Screen Vinyl Image (kim k. even kinda looks like fulsomegirl, too)
The Apes (Although I am not sure about vouching for a band that doesn't have a guitar, given my predilection for air guitar and guitar hero)

I've Abandoned My BLOG!

Not really, but There Will Be Blood comes out on DVD today and I could think of no better explanation of my recent vacations from bloggy-land. Anyway, World of Warcraft is now giving me splitting headaches, which could be related to my three year old glasses or could be caffeine withdrawal symptoms. Probably both.

Expect more blogging later, especially after I file a few year's worth of tax returns.

You heard me.

8 Things I Hate About You

First, a little preramble. There are times when I want to write more stuff about my life, but lately events have changed the way I feel about that. There are more people reading this blog than before the Tucker Incident, but that is okay. One of them is my boss (I HAVE KNOWN FOR A LONG TIME, DO US BOTH A FAVOR AND STOP) and this presents me with a conundrum. I want to feel free to write again, but I don't like my coworkers to be included in everything about my life. If I want them to know about my life, I'll tell them. My brothers also read this, but I am not worried about them reading it, even if it does eventually filter back to my parents though I have no reason to suspect that it has or will.

I am a little concerned with the difference between the way I write about myself and the way I write about other topics, although to be honest my posts since March have all been of lower quality than I like. For instance, how do I follow a post with three links to a plane flight with overflowing toilets with a post about my dating foibles and seem at all genuine? How do I get righteously angry about major issues in federal and global politics while bitching about all the dogshit cluttering my neighborhood sidewalks?* How do maintain any sort of emotional authenticity when the thing I am most known for is joking about having an 80 foot penis?** Maybe I should just say fuck it all! Damn the cognitive dissonance and full blog ahead!

Random fact number 1: I am very colorblind. The best explanation is that the 8 box of Crayola crayons is perfect for me but if you give me the 64 or 128 box, you might as well just punch me in the nuts.

Random fact number 2: I like to sing in my apartment, but totally choke at kareoke. I do not choke if I need to use the announcer voice, just sing. I was rather relieved when the DJ in Chicago denied our song picks, even though he was being a total cobag.

Random fact number 3: I used to be afraid of heights. I was unemployed and I took a job with a gutter cleaning company. I got over that fear really quick.

Random fact number 4: I am not claustrophobic but I think caving would freak me the fuck out, even had I not seen The Descent.

Random fact number 5: I stick to my principles, to the point of getting out of bed with a girl who had voted for Bush in 2004. BEFORE anything sexy happened. Republicans don't deserve the Wang.

Random fact number 6: I play World of Warcraft. This is not very new, but the following information is: Realm: Cenarius. Horde: Chazme, Gorhead, and Tezcatlipoca. Alliance: Haznabel. If this means anything to you, look me up and we'll go questing. We might even find some unicorns.

Random fact number 7: I like to say that I paint and write. When women call me a painter and a writer, I don't disclose that I paint these guys and write blogs. Romance is honesty blended with deception, battered with banter, sauteed in mystery and served with a nice fruity beer.

Random fact number 8: Depending on your interpretation of Article 2, Section 1 of the US Constitution, I can never become President. My parents are two American citizens who were on assignment overseas with the US government when I was born. I only recently passed the required 14 years of residence in the US.***

No person except a natural born citizen, or a citizen of the United States, at the time of the adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the office of President; neither shall any person be eligible to that office who shall not have attained to the age of thirty five years, and been fourteen Years a resident within the United States.

Thanks to Cornell Law School for the Constitution citation.

*I think they are both linked in my mind, if we were better people and thought of our effect on other's lives, we would pick up our dog's shit and stop wars.
**And that's just the girth!
***Despite all this, I was a rather sheltered child and remain rather sheltered. Some might describe my life as charmed/cursed, given my luck with meeting famous people and women.