If at first you don't succeed, and all that.
Yessir, Constant Retard, yours truly is poised to take the leap/plunge a second time, this go round with MORE FEELING. It truly has been a charmed second life, and I look forward to sharing the rest of it with Legs, my significant other. We had wedding photos taken this past Sunday (an ordeal in itself, let me tell you), and at the end of the month it becomes official in a ceremonial sense. My little sis, Pauline, is flying in to represent Clan Forbes, and my significant brother, Kmart, will arrive a few days after that to represent this hallowed blog. (You, Constant Retard, will of course be there in spirit.) His wedding present better fucking be myriad cheese-flavored snackfoods.
It promises to be a joyous occasion, one replete with faux snow-covered birch trees, neon lights, one helluva dandy tuxedo on the groom's part, and an immaculately beautiful gown on the bride's. (You should see her train. It's longer than my ex-wife's crime record!) My two wishes for our special day are that Bill's assassins don't show up to spoil the party and that no one notices Legs's baby bump (kidding!).
Since Legs and I eschew the traditional, the following day we're taking our honeymoon in Osaka, Japan. We initially agreed upon a trip to Singapore, but that was nixed when Legs reminded me that I expectorate like a flaming-mad cobra and that spitting there is verboten. Plan B was Cebu in the Philippines, but I vetoed Legs's suggestion on the grounds that I refuse to honeymoon in formerly colonized nations, because I'm principled like that. So, how did we settle on Osaka, you ask? Simple. Legs said, "How about Osaka?" and I said, "Fine."
Easy, peasy, Japanesey.
I'm genuinely excited about our impending nuptials, and I hope you are, too. I
rarely make the same mistake twice, and I can't wait to live alongside my faithful companion until the day one of us dies, likely I before she.
I love you, Jikko. (You, too, Leon.)