M&M, you're the only ones I'd be that cheesy for. Unless, you know, I was paid a great sum. Or given to bouts of punniness. Which is just wacky. I am acerbic and arched, not lowbrow and pandering.
Just don't say this to me, ever. I can't be held responsible for whatever beverage may come out of my nose.
In case you've been wondering what prompted my latest and long absence, I am prepared to blame Big Brother's wedding. Not because I was required to participate in any way that would preclude me from sharing my latest face-stuffage, but because they are on their honeymoon to Mexico. This makes them a) unable to protest and b) possibly hateable. I'm willing to bet my view of parking lots and air-conditioning units does not compare to their sandy toes and icy brews.
I'm always inclined to say, of weddings, "it went off without a hitch," which cracks me up because of the hitch/hitched paradigm and probably negates everything I claimed in the first paragraph.
The couple's pretty pretty prettiness was presided over by this:
while the ceremony was presided over by T. A lovelier, braver man I have never known, but I have a sneaking suspicion Big Brother is footsteps-following. Moms was gorgeous and radiant and adoring and remarkably composed. If I'd had to watch The Boy get married as the mommy, I'd have been a puddle. (Go download "Better" by Toby Lightman and envision Big Brother and Moms dancing to it. WARNING: It will make you shmoopy.)
I wonder when Americans decided that the best moments in life should be celebrated with cake. Birthdays, weddings, parole ... cakes all around! And they're guaranteed to cause a stampede. M's was yellow cake with buttercream icing and a slightly ominous aura, if these pictures are any indication. Future Sugar Daddy: Buy me a camera, would you? This is getting embarrassing. My only stipulation is that it should be easy enough for a monkey to use.
Big Brother's was a darkly rich tower with peanut buttery accents.
I didn't taste either—an evil migraine was digging a mine shaft behind one eye, so I was focused on keeping lunch down. But I think Zoe's Momma can provide a review of both. The passers from the catering company came out of the room shellshocked and empty-trayed, so I'll take that as an A+. I hope nobody lost any limbs.
I did, however, snag tiny potatoes on tiny forks.
How could I resist? That will be the theme for my wedding (I know, T, not until 2012). Diminutive things in vast quantities. There will be tea roses and piles of these. And herds of Shetland ponies.
Be nice to me, and you may just score an invitation. It will be extremely exclusive.
P.S. I may need a miniature man for the occasion. If you know an available one, have him e-mail onthewoodside@gmail.com.
2 comments:
at: 6:22 PM said...
The "herds of shetland ponies" comment was enough to put all our noses at risk.....Yes, everything about the evening was so lovely it defies description. Too bad I missed those potatoes. I think I was too busy inhaling those little squares of tuna on those little bitty forks.
at: 12:26 AM said...
one day perhaps i can teach you how to approach a buffet for maximum carbohydrate inhalation. it's a skill i've perfected.
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