yevlax

Ugh,

I am still recovering from the wedding that I participated in this past weekend. I was allowed a total of five hours of sleep over two days, given a fresh bottle of Woodford Preserve as a present, and stuffed beyond capacity with two huge and fabulous meals, one of which was Claudia Sanders (the 'original' Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant, where you can eat the Colonels 11 herbs and spices as they were meant to taste, before Yum took over and fucked everything up). After two days of toasts, toys, and twine, I collapsed.

This wasn't being killed with kindness. This was a fully planned assassination of joy, with armor-piercing ammunition, a judge-proof alibi, and an unmarked black helicopter for a getaway vehicle.

I don't even think I'd party this hard at my OWN wedding, to be held in 2047. If you're still alive, you're invited. Of course.