Marriage is like the army. Everybody complains, but you’d be surprised at how many re-enlist.

August 3, 2010

“Marriage is the process of finding out what kind of man your wife would have preferred”

Marriage quotes – they’re hysterical!

Hello world! I am not hungover anymore. I am tired. I slept like 10 hours last night, but I feel like I could easily go back to sleep for another 8. But I can’t. Why? You. You and your menacing passive aggressive digital stares. And because I have to move my car. FUCK! When I post for you, I get some sort of compliment or at the very least attention. People love attention. I get paid a little attention. Where as the street sweeper patrol gives me no attention. If I correctly move my car every day for 10 years to avoid getting a ticket, I don’t get a pat on the back, chest, top of the head, inner thigh. Nope. I’ll get nothing. And if I don’t move my car BAM! $42 ticket. Immediately. Always. Fuck these streets. Fuck the sweeping of them 4x a week. But you, my readers, I do not say “fuck thee” oh dear ne’er dost I proclaim “fuck thee”. I perch e’er fortnight on the hill tops with a whisper, “Hark my call not fuck thee, but ‘fuck me’. Aha! Fuck me in Jersey City!” Ca-CAW! Jezebel gypsies of the nigh’ with your pleated skirts…

Anyway, I went to a wedding over the weekend. I took pictures. I will tell you about the wedding and show you some of the pictures. But I have a problem. My problem is that I don’t have too many stories to tell about this wedding that involve myself. I was going to talk about my friend Dave’s wedding and how I got blackout drunk at that, but I don’t remember if I’ve already told that story on KSWI. Have I? Have I dear readers? Why don’t you answer me!?! Speak up, damn it!

Well, I’ll tell it or retell it once you tell me if I have told it or not told it. So… later this week.


BOOM! This is where the wedding was. The one I went to on Saturday. Not to be confused with the wedding where I blacked out, which oddly enough was only a couple miles from where BOOM! is. Back to BOOM!

This is Oheka Castle. You may remember Oheka Castle as where one of the heads of the Jonas Brothers got married. In my mind, the Jonas Brothers are almost exactly like mythological hell dog Cerberus. The Brothers Jonas share one body, but have three heads. They don’t appear to be the guardian of the gates of Hell, but at the same time I don’t really keep tabs on what they’re up to day-to-day, so they could be watching those gates. I do know they sing professionally. Generally speaking, professional musicians work at night and have a lot of free time during the day. So one could guess that the Jonas Brothers guard the gates of Hell to make sure no demons get out and no unwanted fool hearty heroes want in. Then at night time, they may hire some other menacing creature like Emmanuel Yarborough or Arizona Governor Jan Brewer to watch the gate for them, so the Brothers can go sing their songs for a happy nation of squealing girls.


Oheka Castle is on Long Island. Is it “on” Long Island or “in” Long Island? I think it is both and it needs to be solved with throwing a cat in a metal box with poison in it. You know what I’m saying? So, there is a castle called Oheka on Long Island and that is where my cousin got married. A castle. Pretty amazing, right? The castle comes of course with a golf course as all castles should.


Here is the hoopah. The chosen people, the gilded crew, the Dream Team from Bene Barack, the Israelites, the Jews… get married under a hoopah. Why? Because Jews are very conscious of sudden showers. Rain on a wedding day? Pffft, we’re Jewish! We’ve thought ahead! We’ve got a hoopah! Actually, it has some religious reason I suppose, but Jews are a practical people and the hoopah is a wedding umbrella.


Here is my cousin, the bride, with my aunt and uncle coming out of the castle(!). If you are sitting there wondering why I didn’t zoom in this picture it is because I took this picture with my PHONE! MY PHONE! So, it is a dame good picture for a phone. Literally, this picture is passable as a picture taken from a device that simply takes pictures. Instead this picture is taken from an electronic device that actually allows me to have a conversation with anyone in the world and send them dirty messages that I regret sending when I’m drunk.


There we go. Here is the happy couple actually literally getting married. It is happening right there! Can you see it!?! CAN YOU FEEL IT!?! At one point, the Rabbi I read an excerpt from a Rumi poem and if it weren’t for this website I wouldn’t know who Rumi is/was. A commentator from long ago mentioned Rumi. I do not know what happened to that young lady of Rumi. Does she still read the website? Has she given up on me? Was she such a fan of Rumi she gave up all her worldly possessions and now she walks the desert of the Middle East? Did she get a job where blogs are blocked and she does not take the time to read my comedic ramblings at home? Who knows? I don’t. Nevertheless! Fidelity! Marriage! Consecration vows! Conviction! And afterwards…


TA-DA! The married couple. Looking great. Feeling great. And best wishes to them in everything they do. They are in Amsterdam right now I believe, so if you want to give them your best wishes just go track them down over there. I would imagine they’ve changed their clothes, so don’t look for my cousin in her wedding dress. She’s probably in a t-shirt or jeans or something, but definitely not the wedding dress.

So yes! It was a beautiful wedding.

And I was there. Don’t believe me?


Ah-ha! That is me! Oh me oh thee oh me.

What other stupid faces can I make?


Left eyebrow raised. Confident. Kind of a “Why yes, I did key your car now what the fuck do you want to do about it.”


The right eyebrow raised. Concerned. Kind of a “Did I set-up my DVR to tape ‘Mad Men’? I don’t think I did. I hope Dawgz does. And I may have farted.”


Ahhhh, I’m fucking with you. I didn’t fart. Not in the tux at least. That thing was rented. I can’t sully the fabric of something I need to return.

And lastly… I will say this. I will submit other “want” pictures, but this is about all you have to do. Can you beat this?


I want it. But, I am going to emphatically say “YES!” that all of you can want that much and/or more. Plus I cannot win my own contest.

One more picture from the wedding…


Everyone is dancing.

Even me.

Kind of.

Given certain circumstances, I will dance. Not well. But I’ll sort of get into it. By and large, I do stay away from dancing because I am not good at it. Why? Well, I’m not good at it. This stems from a general lack of practice I suppose. I believe anyone can get good at anything given practice. Shooting a basketball, writing with your other hand, speaking a foreign language. Dancing falls under that category as well. So, I’m at a wedding. They’re playing music I don’t really want to dance to. And, I haven’t danced in who knows how long. But it is what you are supposed to do. Not only supposed to do, but have to do. There is nothing else to do. You can’t say “drink” because you are supposed to dance and drink.

But I don’t want to. I don’t want to dance. I feel like I’m in the reverse of “Footloose”. I’m in a town of people who are forcing me to dance. They’re yelling at me, “You have to dance!” But I don’t want to dance. I don’t want to dance, Shaw. Please stop yelling at me to dance. Plus the songs that I’m supposed to dance to are not songs I want to dance to. Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl”? It’s a good song and all, but I don’t find it particularly dance-y. I generally picture that song as more or less background music. I never hear that song and immediately am like “I need to fucking dance!”

Anyway, it was a nice wedding. And congratulations to them and their marriage and their future and hopefully their insane times in Europe this week and next week on their honeymoon.


18 Responses to “Marriage is like the army. Everybody complains, but you’d be surprised at how many re-enlist.”

  1. kt said

    I love your cousins wedding dress. Very pretty. I don’t dance either. I have been to a wedding and managed not to dance and I have been to weddings and danced of my own accord. I think you are right, a lot of it has to do with the music, and for me personally the people too. I am more willing to make an ass out of myself in front of strangers that I will never see again.

  2. PWG said

    I’m sorry for suggesting you bag a guest since you were looking so dashing and all, I didn’t know it was a relative’s wedding.

  3. tiffanized said

    You should buy your own tux because (a) you look great in one and (b) you’ll be able to fart freely.

    Were the bridesmaids wearing white? I’ve never seen bridesmaids wearing white. They look like decoy brides. Usually the bride jams her attendants into the ugliest, least complimentary color possible in an effort to divert all positive attention onto her ownself. Your cousin must be tremendously self confident not to have taken this tactic.

    • Pol said

      decoy brides, LOL!!
      It does look pretty though, makes all the photos that much nicer.

      I love, love, LOVE dancing!

    • I’ve never seen bridesmaids in white either. Very different. I don’t like it, though – simply because that would get more confusing the drunker I got…

    • cledbo said

      I thought back in ye olde tymes that bridesmaids were meant to be decoys – so if evil spirits came to fuck shiz up, they’d get confoozed and run off, or accidentally curse one of the maids instead.

      And also, that hilarious custom in the event of the bride getting cold feet and not turning up, the groom was meant to marry the maid of honour instead, or else it was bad luck.

      Marriage, man. That’s some whacked-out malarkey right there.

  4. MLF said

    what type of person can resist dancing to brown eyed girl?! the last time I heard that song I was in Daytona Beach at a restaraunt on the water with my dad and aunt and uncle. The song came on and I immediately said OMG YAY LET’S DANCE! so my dad and I went out to the dance floor and danced. That may sound creepy but it’s actually not. My whole family loves to dance. Espesh my dad. It’s kind of embarrassing but he was actually some sort of disco king back before I was alive and is a really great dancer. anytime we go someplace lots of women always want to dance with him which is just weird.

    • cledbo said

      Your dad sounds like fun.

      That seems creepy too but you assure me it’s not. I bet I would dance with him. Or ‘cut a rug’, if you will.

      • MLF said

        cut a rug is pretty apt. I forget what movie we were watching (my dad and I) but a scene came on where the two main characters were at a club and started dancing, and everyone made a little circle around them and started clapping. I scoffed and said how they always show that in movies but it never happens in real life. My dad turned to me and said “that happens to me all the time”

        a deffinite FML moment.

  5. I’ll dance. But not well. The fewer people I know, the better. I never stepped foot on the dance floor at my dad’s wedding 5 years ago. But I never got off the dance floor at my friends’ weddings this past April and July.

    Add in enough booze and I end up doing stupid theme-y dances. At the April wedding, there were glowstick necklaces involved, which resulted in:
    1. connecting them all together and jumprope dancing.
    2. connecting them all together and hula hoop dancing.
    3. connecting them all together and playing some demented form of Twister? dancing.
    4. whipping my college roommate on the ass with one repeatedly.

    There’s photographic evidence of every single one of those on the internet. I will never be elected to public office. But that’s mostly because I’m too lazy and will never run, and has absolutely nothing to do with my kinky, sordid glowstick past.

    Your cousin looks gorgeous. I like the influx of tuxp0rn lately. Also, if you’d just give SubtleButt a try like I asked you to, you could fart worry-free in your rent-a-tux as much as you’d like.

    • MLF said

      1- glowsticks are the shiz
      2- where can I find these photos because I need them in my life
      3- I love you (and it’s not gushing if I only say it once)

      • They’re on facebook, but they’re probably friends only else you’d all have seen that shitshow by now. They’re about as unflattering as they come, plus there are innocent parties involved, so I’m not going to link them here. But I will tweet links to you. At least that way people have to put some extra effort into judging me. You may laugh so long as it’s good-natured.

  6. Pol said

    I’m almost too scared to ask: What is SubltleButt?

  7. Pol said

    I think a review would be great 🙂

  8. cledbo said

    Your Jewish wedding adventure looks like fun.

    I love to dance, usually after 5 beers. 3 beers is my pool-playing zone, and 4 is when my dirty mouth really makes itself known. 6 or 7 is usually enough for me to start inappropriately propositioning young men, despite the fact that I would have spent the previous hour or so talking non-stop about that bloke I live with. Alcohol is the cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems.

    Thanks for loving us enough to remain out of bed after moving your car to write teh funny. For that, I may attempt another want picture, though the weather isn’t conducive to wanting anything other than for the goddamn rain to stop!

  9. CampbellD said

    Man, I have only been to one wedding and it was my uncle’s who was 42 and so I was pretty much the only person in my age group there. I mean it was fun, but it was also the first time I have been around free alcohol and family at the same time. To cut a long story short, my mums cousin and I got really drunk and made fun of heaps of people. It was ok, cos he was being totally respnisble, cos he’s in his mid thirties. That was a weird evening.
    Ahhh, I’ve been to more funerals than weddings. By a considerable margin. Damn. That’s depressing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: