Ah L'Amour!

Love is in the air. Amidst the molecules of oxygen, carbon dioxide, and even the methane that was just emitted not a second ago from my rear end, love manages to be found! I refer not to my everlasting love for my wife, nor my uncontrolable lust for Mountain Dew but rather my brother's love of his newly acquired wife. Yes, Buddy got married! And what a wedding! There were Celtic musicians, dapper groomsmen (if I do say so myself), and above all things: a 1957 Cheville classic. Dang was it pretty. A hired chauffer was dressed to the nines to make sure people got from the parking lot to the church at the end of the lane. You see the church for this wedding was unique from all other wedding churches I've attended because it is the smallest church I've ever been in. Here's a music video for reference; try to skip to the guitar solo.



Ah November Rain. The video that begs the question: "If they can afford to hire an orchestra for the video, why can they get studio musicians to play for the damn song?" Oh yeah, the church.
The church in the above video is actually one steeple larger than the church into which we crammed 12 wedding party members, 35 guests, a Celtic band, and oh yes, the bride and groom. There was no room left for any more guests (who were exclusively invited to the reception), or things like parking, and a little item known as a bathroom. That's right folks; if you had to go, you'd better find a large headstone in the cemetery outside to crouch behind. Fortunately there were no casualties and the wedding went off with a hitch. There were a few laughs, a lot of tears, and a few random utterances from my senile grandmother (whom I love dearly).

After the service, we walked down to a wharf (not the klingon) were the S.S. Playbuoy (not kidding) was arriving to take the wedding party to the reception hall. To contrast the driver of the Cheville (aka my hero), the captain of this boat was wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt to show off his ugly tattoos. Three glasses of champagne later, I was not complaining. In fact there was plenty of sparkling wine and Whoppers to amuse most of the party as we floated upriver. Lindsay, who was not the biggest champagne fan, decided after one brief toast that one glass was too many and decided to throw the contents of her plastic wine cup into the Mullica River. This brilliant maneuver was thwarted only by my lovely wife and her 65-bobby-pin hairdo which ended up soaking up most of the champagne intended for Davy Jones (not the Monkees miraca player). To exacerbate matters, the shock from this miscalculation caused Liz to spill her glass onto the best man's lap. Good times. We eventually arrived at the reception dock where we were greeted properly. An angry mob who was only invited to the reception was waiting on the shore posied to throw severed mum heads at us (that was Buddy's brilliant idea). After picking a few petals out of my teeth, I was ready to get smashed.

The rest of the evening went how a reception should: whiskey, toasts, whiskey, the Electric Slide, whiskey, and a chocolate fondue fountain (mmmmm). Two words for you guys: Nutter Butters. A good night was had by all.

Let's back up to before the wedding and have a quick story. The groomsmen (myself included), were all gathered at the in-laws' cutting the heads off of flowers. For once, this was encouraged instead of forbidden by uptight neighbors so I was not enjoying it in the least. Dave, who had repeatedly been proving his incompetance as a groomsman, wandered into the yard to smoke a cigarette. He stumbled upon what can only be described as one of the coolest battles in nature. A hornet had become entangled in the web of a small spider. Normally, if an animal is too large for a spider, they simply cut their losses and retreat. This little guy, who was a little smaller than the hornet's face, was no coward and was fighting for his meal. The hornet was attached by his abdomen and was struggling furiously to break the bond. The spider was methodically running up and down this strand of web and fortifying his tether. Whenever he could, he wrapped in a leg or a wing to further enfuriate the hornet. The hornet was no quitter either, it was biting the strand and occasionally trying to bite the spider. All six groomsmen, the groom, and a couple random girls were all gathered around this battle like it was the freaking parthanon. It was even cooler that the best man happened to be a versed entomologist. In the end (which we missed), the hornet got away. I was rooting for the spider myself, but hornets are pretty resilliant.

Speaking of resilliant hornets, this next video may be the coolest thing ever. Somehow 11 hornets slay about 30,000 honey bees and take over their hive. Leave it to National Geographic to get some great slowmotion footage. And leave it to some pubescent douchbag to score it to the slap-happy sounds of Mudvayne. Your bee massacre: