Well, this is it, ladies and gents: crunch time. I’ve got just a little bit over a month until The Wedding, and nearly ever single weekend from here on out until November 11th is going to be packed with ridiculous activity.
I’m exhausted just thinking about it: over the next six weeks, all but one weekend will be spent away from home, either in the wilds of Long Island or getting my balls frozen off and my ass kicked around up at Faire Play with Legacy. I’m at the point where I’m seriously reconsidering just running off to Vegas and getting married by the first Klingon rabbi Elvis impersonator I could find. Alas, the fiancée vetoed that plan with extreme prejudice – a shame, really, as who could ever say that they had a more memorable wedding ceremony?
It’s really hard to wrap my head around the idea that I’ll actually be someone’s husband. For fuck’s sake, I can’t even keep people in The Sims alive and happy, and all of a sudden I’m going to be Head of Household on my tax forms. Not only that, but I’ll have to start paying my taxes, period! This is some heavy shit to lay on someone. Well, with any luck I’ll be so inebriated by the open bar that the marriage will be invalid because I lacked the capacity to enter into any contracts that day. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
I’m probably going to pay for that comment.