Why I Should Never Be A Wedding Planner

Most girls grow up, dreaming of how perfect their wedding will be.  Not me. I'm not most girls. Do  you know how I know I'm not most girls? Because my boyfriend became my fiance by turning to me one night while we watched an MST3K episode and muttered, "You wanna go to Vegas and get married?"

I shrugged and said, "Okay."

Based on this exchange, I would probably make a horrible Wedding Planner.

To test this theory (and because I've been stuck on the couch for the last three days with a miserable sinus infection and have already re-read all my comic books), I decided to come up with a variety of Themed Weddings, which I thought were awesome, but which I suspect most women would burn me at the stake for even suggesting.  Which actually makes me want to be a Wedding Planner even more  (I'm a matrimonial masochist, apparently).

So if you don't mind, I'd like to dump the contents of my scratch pad onto the blog and see if any of these ideas tickle your romance bone:

1. The Wedding Themed Wedding:

In this scenario, all the guests would be required to wear the same outfits that they wore to their own nuptials (so the Happy Couple at the altar would be competing with pews full of women in poufy white gowns and men in hired tuxedos and polyester cummerbunds). But what if you've never been married?  Well, chances are you've still been in a wedding, so protocol would oblige you to wear that outfit, whether it was a hideous bridesmaid dress or a flower girl's pinafore.

Now I know what you're thinking: "What could this possibly accomplish, besides a lot of rage and humiliation?'  Well, if you're one of those people with a bloated and unwieldy list of Facebook contacts, this should help streamline things, because I guarantee you the day after the ceremony you'll be greeted by a blizzard of "Unfriend" notices.

2. The Saw Themed Wedding:

There comes a point in every reception (usually right about the time when they start doing the "Bunny Hop") where you think, "I'd give my right arm for a good excuse to leave."  Well, here's where we find out just how sincere you really are.

Suggested party favors include petite hacksaws, decorative scythes, and whimsical Chinese Finger Traps that can only be escaped through traumatic amputation.  (As your wedding planner, I would instruct the caterer to put up a sneeze-guard to prevent getting excessive blood spatter on the cake.)

3. The Thunderbirds Themed Wedding:

This theme would require the wedding party to act like Supermarionation characters.  The dress code would include molded plastic wigs, thick, caterpillar-like eyebrows, and words that were completely unsynchronized to your mouth movements, while guests would be encouraged to get into the spirit of the affair by rolling their eyes slowly from side to side, and prancing around like the Lonely Goat Herd from The Sound of Music.

So, those are my horrific Wedding Theme ideas. Do you have a nightmarish nuptial concept? I mean, more horrible and horrifying than mine?

If you do, please share it in the comment thread, and Scott and I will decide the winner based on its degree of horribleness and the likelihood of it helping you shed friends and estrange family.

The winner will have their idea brought to life should Scott and I ever decide to renew our vows.  (Which, I'll grant you, isn't likely.  For instance, unlike most couples who freeze a piece of their wedding cake and eat it on their first anniversary, Scott poured lighter fluid on ours and burned it in the driveway, because that's what he used to do with his Aurora model kits when he was a kid, and at the moment, I couldn't seem to muster a compelling counter argument.)

Them The People

Hi Y'all, Keith here. It's dreary and damp today in my neck of the woods, so why not enjoy a romp over to WorldNetDaily and see who's hanging out in the peanut gallery?

Hey, looks like Larry Klayman has an interesting take on the election:

Many times in the history of the world, God has destroyed His people and started anew when they strayed from His word. Just ask Noah what the flood was all about!

Larry, this is a persistent problem with g*d. The terrible and unpredictable temper tantrums revealing a disturbed, conflated narrative (too many script-doctors, etc).

And "what if" we were able to ask Noah about the flood? Might he have said: "Best pipe I ever boogied down with -- dawg!"? But before delving deeper into this, we advise that if you are quoting the word of g*d, please use a capital letter for "Word." He/She would appreciate the thought. Remember, Larry, the universe began with the "Word" (Logos).

This time, even with the floods of Hurricane Sandy and the re-election of the President Barack Hussein Obama, God has spared us for the moment. Instead God has sent a dire warning and encouraged We the People to rise up, in His name, to restore His kingdom.

Larry, again, and I don't mean to be a nit-picker, but it's "His Kingdom." WTF is wrong with your shift key?

Had Mitt Romney been elected president, many among the flock would have been lulled asleep and deluded into thinking that a Moses had appeared to deliver us out of the Egyptian-like bondage we find ourselves in --- thanks to our "Mullah in Chief" and his growing voter hoards of socialists, communists, anti-Semites, anti-Christians, atheists, radical gays and lesbians, feminists, illegal immigrants, Muslims, anti-Anglo whites and others who last Tuesday cemented his destructive hold on the White House and our country.

Oh Larry, not Moses ... not after Noah. Many of the flock would have dozed off watching reruns of "Antiques Roadshow" or emptying their toasters of crumbs. And while not an historian of antiquity, did you ever consider that Egyptian-like bondage might be fun? Besides, what is an "anti-Anglo white" exactly, would you please?

It is now clear that there is no Republican Moses. 

 "Because I'm dead."

Indeed, if Mitt Romney could go back in time, he should have first advocated putting the Grand Ol' Party into bankruptcy, along with Chrysler and GM.

Larry, false on two accounts. Charlton Heston was and will forever claim the title of the Republican Moses,  just as Jeffery Hunter will always be anointed the Republican Jesus.

Jesus or Thor?  You make the call!

In addition, Chrysler in particular is doing very well and GM is doing respectably well. Ford never required a bailout. Which of these is your broker shorting for you today?

Now, with this latest stunning political defeat, the party has finally had its last hurrah and is dead once and for all. Good riddance!

My sentiments, exactly. Larry, you be spot on, bro!

The bottom line is this: Americans of faith and those who believe in capitalism and hard work as the means to achieve, not "Atlas Shrugged"-portrayed government handouts, have now seen their country taken over largely by uneducated and lazy morons, goons and thugs who want to dismantle all our Founding Fathers conceived of and fought for.

Gee, the last moronic, goonish thug I remember who wanted to dismantle the Republic was ... Ayn Rand?

And, their hateful Marxist desire to destroy Western civilization is not limited to the "Great Satan" the United States, but to its biblical Judeo-Christian roots, embodied in the nation of Israel.

Mr. Klayman, let me remind you that Marxism is a product of Western Civ. Don't go into trading commodities without having read the first half of "Capital." Really. You'll get burned.

Now, this column would have concluded, due to disinterest, except your next paragraph actually produces a bit of a "buzz" and a challenge!

With no racial slur intended, but only to employ the same lingo used sarcastically by many of Obama's supporters to describe their past plight, if we do nothing and simply look to future elections to restore the nation, we will soon become the "new niggers," relegated to the back of the bus -- as the bus speeds away to quickly fall over the fiscal, social and moral cliff. African-Americans were right when they said this years ago, and we're now right to feel the same way today.

Well, that's quite something. We need to parse this ...

First, in my conservative, Southern Baptist household nothing would get you to the "woodshed" faster than using the "N"-word. We may have been a dysfunctional family but we did have some decency.

Second, the white male is already the Jew of liberal fascism -- can't you be satisfied with that?  Topping off the Suburban Shoah with a dollop of blanched Jim Crow seems a bit piggy, as though you were making your third trip to the All You Can Eat Outrage Buffet.

Lastly, Mr. Klayman, have you ever taken the bus (any bus) anywhere? If you have, where the fuck do you get off?

World's Worst Poetry Slam

The other day we marveled (from a safe distance) at how the results of the Presidential election had driven Mary Matalin into a kind of fugue state, in which she was only able to communicate in words that began with the letter "D" ("The President is a debauched, declassé, and dandified dentifrice with dandruff, dressed in a daring dashiki and downing Darjeeling.  He's deaf to deacons, dowses for dimes in the demimonde, and dances with demons as he defaces the Decalogue!")

Well, Weird Dave discovered (via rumproast) that she went on CNN and performed this same masterpiece of alliteration as a one woman show.  Enjoy!

Someone defuse her before she detonates.

Murder By Micro-Donation!

Novelist and Friend of Wo'C Debbi Mack is taking a bold step into the New Future of Old Media, shifting paradigms and geisting zeits at will, and all while dealing with crabs (or so I assume; I mean, she lives in Maryland, and the one time I visited Chesapeake Bay the locals seemed primarily interested in shoving soft shell crustaceans down my throat).

Anyway, Debbi is the author of the Sam McRae books, a fun series of twisty and suspenseful murder mysteries about a Baltimore attorney who is sort of the female Perry Mason, except she has more sex than Perry did, and likes to get on top occasionally.  She even has her own version of Paul Drake, so if you ever wanted to see Raymond Burr and William Hopper doff those somber suits and loud houndstooth sport coats and get down to some serious flirting, this is the series for you.  Unless you're Della Street, in which case you'll probably just wind up going home alone to eat a pint of Ben & Jerry's Lusty Lawyer Lingonberry and watch Body of Evidence with your cat.

I've been meaning to write reviews of the first two books (I'm still hoarding the most recent volume as a hedge against a boredom emergency, such as Jury Duty, or the flu), but suffice it to say that I'm a fan of the series, and I'm not alone:

In 2011, the first Sam McRae novel, Identity Crisis, made the New York Times ebook bestseller list. That book and the sequel, Least Wanted both became Kindle Top 100 bestsellers. Both novels also went on to reach the Top 100 on Amazon UK, with Least Wanted hitting the Top 10 and reaching at least as high as #6 on the charts.

Debbi has launched a kind of Kickstarter-ish campaign to publish hard copies of the McRae e-books under her own imprint, and to fund the next volume, and I'm hoping her efforts are a big success -- not just because I look forward to the series continuing, but because this is something Sheri and I are considering for the sequel to Better Living Through Bad Movies.

So click here to find out more about Debbi's books, and her scheme for world domination.

Bonus Weekend Caption Contest!

Jobless Grim Reapers, who claim they were fired after voting for Obama, wait for their numbers to be called at the local unemployment office.  "It was worth it," said one.  "The economy is my number one issue, and Obama promised Death panels!  Finally, a jobs program for the working stiff!"  However, a spokesman for their former employer, the Angel of Death, denied the assertion, stating that the three were discharged for "abusing their paid holidays and playing chess during working hours."

Drop yours in the comments.  And here's hoping you have Monday off.

This Post Brought to You By the Letter M and the Number 2

My grandfather was a tough old bird.  A rancher and a gun-totin' member of the San Dimas Sheriff's Posse, I once watched him kill a rattlesnake with a shovel, then stomp its head under the heel of his cowboy boot.  The rattler's venom sac burst, which I mention only because the resulting spatter reminds me a bit of Mary Matalin's current output at National Review:

Mendacity and Malice Won

What happened? A political narcissistic sociopath...

By which she means Obama.  Ordinarily I'd reject this kind of language as bitterness and hyperbole, but Matalin worked closely with both Karl Rove and Dick Cheney,  and while I can disagree with her diagnosis of the President, I can no more dismiss her knowledge of narcissistic sociopaths than I could tell Orville Redenbacher to bone up on popcorn.

 ...leveraged fear and ignorance with a campaign marked by mendacity and malice rather than a mandate for resurgence and reform. 

Obama could have made this election about alliteration, but he refused to take the high road.

Instead of using his high office to articulate a vision for our future, Obama used it as a vehicle for character assassination, replete with unrelenting and destructive distortion, derision, and division.

I respect Ms. Matalin; she's been a professional wordsmith for many years, and I appreciate her sharing a few tricks of the trade.  For instance, if your deadline is looming and you've got nothing in the way of an original or coherent thought, flip the dictionary open to a random page, pick the first four words you see, and use them in a sentence.  I guarantee the results will be delightful, delovely, delicious, and De Soto.

Mitt Romney distinguished himself and conservatism with a grounded, courageous, forward-thinking problem-solving reform agenda for a nation ready to renew and starved for leadership and maturity.

So Mitt Romney's platform makes perfect sense, provided you're suffering from low blood sugar, a bloated belly, and dangerously depleted electrolytes.

He is a man of integrity and character

The character, for those playing along at home, is Baron Münchhausen.

...as is his whole family. And unlike in the 1996 and 2008 Republican campaigns, which — though led by men of great personal integrity — were marked by dead-end policy prescriptions, Romney/Ryan laid a durable philosophical and policy foundation for the next generation of conservative leadership.

Those prescriptions sound pretty amazing, and would probably benefit the current generation of conservative leaders; but I guess they've been earmarked for the next generation because children are our future (teach them well and let them lead the way), and because actually zeroing in on Romney/Ryan's position on any given issue is a bit like an Easter egg hunt, and despite their refreshing lack of shame, even John Boehner and Mitch McConnell might feel a bit conspicuous wandering around with gaily painted baskets stuffed with plastic grass, hard-boiled eggs, and durable philosophies.

Unfortunately and unfortuitously, forces of nature bookended the general election:

I hope they exchanged insurance information.

Our convention was compromised by one weather disaster and our momentum stalled by another. 

When you carefully consider it, the outcome of the Presidential election is really just a matter of opinion: liberals think Romney was beaten by Obama, while conservatives believe he was trounced by Thor.

Two human hurricanes also radically altered the political atmosphere: 

American boxer Ruben "Hurricane" Carter and Irish snooker player Alex "Hurricane" Higgens -- neither of whose intervention in our electoral process, I might add, was predicted by Nate Silver.

Bill Clinton’s unique windbaggery constituted a campaign updraft, while Chris Christie’s deplorable and gratuitous gas-baggery infused the campaign with a toxic political pollution.

So basically, the American People were happily sharing an elevator with Mitt, when Chris Christie farted.

We live to fight again. See St. Paul from today.

Okay.  Nice enough looking town, I guess, but I'm still not voting for Paul Ryan in 2016.

Oh! I've Got a HORN!

The entire 2012 Presidential Election in condensed, evaporated form, courtesy of Mystery Science Theater 3000:

These Suffragettes Are Taking Things a LITTLE Too Far

As a bit of inspiration to see you through the end of a long and exhausting campaign season, I give you Mrs. Lucile Wheat, who we find exercising her franchise on August 26, 1930, the first election in which voting machines were used in Los Angeles.

So I guess we should be thankful that while these newfangled touch-screen devices may be tricky to operate, at least they don't require you to dress like a Smurf.