Thursday, June 23, 2011

This post is brought to you by the phrase, "Oh dear God."

I'm getting married today.

What was I thinking?!

In desperate need of escape routes.  If they involve spaceships, that's fucking awesome, but I need to make sure the aliens will be able to deliver my baby without killing me.  Or maybe we can go with the classic, cowboy shoot-outs.  Except I don't really want to go to jail and I'm terrified of guns.  Maybe booze.  But I need like, a booze bypass so that the baby doesn't get any.  I never liked sharing anyway.  My booze, you little brat.

Only, crap.  I don't really like alcohol much either.

Oh, God.

I'm screwed.

P.S. In case you read this before we're married, uh.  I love you.  No, really.  I do.  Maybe.  But I'd really like the spaceship option right about now.

P.P.S.  Should probably go blow-dry my hair now.  Fuck.  This is really happening.

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