Wedding Follies Part 2: The Perp
From Bellybuttonporn
This is Part Two in a Four Part series about my sister's wedding. There's just way too much for one post. Part One
Another quick wedding-related note. Two, in fact.
I went back down to Des Moines Friday night in a hurry because I got word that my grandma was in the hospital with chest pain. She's doing fine now and back home. Anyhow, there was a wedding on Saturday of an acquaintance of mine. A friend, Jen, wanted me to go with her since her boyfriend backed out, so I went. Why? I love weddings. Shut the fuck up. I'll kick your ass if you tell anyone. The wedding was nice, and I went back to Ames that night so I could relax for the rest of the weekend.
In more-important news, Iowa (briefly) legalized gay marriage. And a couple guys I (sorta) know managed to get married. No shit? Yeah, really. You may have seen pictures of them on CNN or whatever. Here's the Youtube Video. Congrats to them and good luck.
Contents |
Shopping
So after I rolled out of bed and took a cursory shower, I emerged from the faraway land of upstairs.
Mom had prepared a list of everything I needed to buy, painstakingly inscribed on a small notepad. Hey, did I mention she was drunk when we wrote this list out? After rewriting it to make a little more sense and making sure I understood everything, I opened the gate and drove my big fancy automobile out into the world.
If memory serves, I went to Dahl's (which is like Hy Vee or any other chain-type grocery store). Did you know the french word for market is 'marche? Guess what the french word for supermarket is? Okay here you go: supermarche. Hope that tidbit gets you laid; hasn't helped me any. The highlight of the Dahl's trip was buying a case of cheap sparkling wine. I have my very own bottle I'm saving up for a trashy occasion.
I also visited Sam's Club and then Wal-Mart later with my sister. Sam's club didn't have the cheap sparkling wine, so I guess I've caught myself in a logical trap. Maybe I went to Dahl's twice? Someone get timecop on this one. I bought a big friggin jar of pickles. This much I know is true.
My sister needed a new speaker setup for her computer since she wanted to use it to play music for the wedding and reception. I helped her pick one out. We got the cheap one, since they all suck.
Cooking
Going from my mom's cooking out into the real world, I've noticed two main facts:
- My mom cooks better than everyone else's mom, and everyone else agrees.
- Her dishes are given names of other totally unrelated dishes.
The first point is self-explanatory, I think. If you disagree, it's simply because you haven't sampled her cooking. Are you busy this Thanksgiving? As for the second, let me give you a few examples: Goulash, sopapillas, mostaccoli. They have almost nothing to do with the dishes you're thinking of. Interesting, huh?
I made the mostaccoli salad, baked beans, loosemeat for sandwiches, tomato salad, and probably some other stuff I forgot. Oh, and some shrimp dip. And some other meaty dip stuff. It was a big dippy, fatty, caloric blur.
Saturday
My mom has this thing where she rents 5-10 DVDs at once. She just picks them out by their cover art, I think. She brings home the weirdest shit. Friday night I recall trying to watch the Number 23. Let me spare you this shitty movie: The number 23 didn't do it. It was really 27. Where did the Eternal Sunshine performance go?
Oh, Saturday. I tried watching "Are We Done Yet", which she inexplicably rented. Oh, mom.
The sun set, and the sun rose, and it was the day.
Shopping Again
My job for saturday primarily consisted of getting the final few things we'd forgotten. Also, a keg of beer.
I lobbied for a full 1/2bbl keg, but we got a pony keg instead. Turns out it was the exact right size. Oh, that's in part 4. My car has a movable cargo thingie in the back (go look at the pics, I'm sure there's a dozen of the cargo area). It's pretty good for keg-related hauling.
Cooking Again
Cooking was limited. We broke out the heavy machinery for slicing the tomatoes and onions. Mom has an old spinny slicer. Sorta like a professional meat slicer, except made out of plastic, with a dulled blade, and about 400 times more dangerous. It sliced the onions just fine. It sliced the tomatoes just fine. It sliced my fingers down to the second knuckle just fine. Not really. This thing could be used for pickle slicing.
Just don't stick your dick in the pickle slicer. Speaking of putting your dick in the pickle slicer, Blaine did that. Her name's Cecilia. Since he couldn't come to the ceremony I took her. Some McHoes are hot. More on that in Part 3.
Gazebo Hoooo
Okay, so gazebo in the middle of a park. There's no seating there, so we have a bunch of folding chairs. They wanted me to bring 5 over, since I could fit 5 in there, right? Whatever, I threw all 20 in the back and headed over to set things up.
What else is there to set up? Well, music. At weddings there are certain pieces of music that are expected to be played. I copied the requisite songs to my laptop and my mp3 player so we'd have a backup.
Music. Gazebo. Speakers. We bought speakers. Come on guys, what are we missing? What didn't we think of. Electricity. Damn straight. You need to plug that shit in, mang. Guess who thought of it and assigned tasks? Okay so I unpacked the little speaker things and hooked the mp3 player up and made sure they brought the power inverter (hooked up to a nearby minivan, obv) and bigass extension cord.
Since my car has the cleanest interior (by a margin of a zillion to one) of anyone my sister knows, it got coopted into transporting my sister, the maid of honor, and the flower girls (MoH's kids) to the ceremony.
Everything's fine, and we're ahead of schedule. I've got to kill about 10 minutes, then go get them.
Go!
My phone rings. It's Kristina (Maid of Honor). Jose's car broke down on the way to the Gazebo. We need to go pick him up before the police show up.
See, when you're an illegal immigrant, a lot of public services are cut off from you. For example, if your car is stalled out somewhere, you don't want to get the cops involved. For another quick example, if you're in a traffic accident, you definitely don't want to be there when the cops show up. Luckily his car was just broken down. It's not like he got rear-ended or anything.
My phone rang again.
