First off, it’s so dry here. I have become a raisin. Well, not a raisin. If a raisin is a dried grape and a craisin is a dried cranberry, perhaps I’ve become a braisin. Hmm, I’m sure there are already folks who consider me brazen so maybe it’s apt.
Tuesday it was at least 70 degrees here. Today, I’m going to guess that it’s 35. And maybe going to rain.
I tell you, I looked out my window and laughed.
Today is my last day of appointments. Tonight I see Tatiana and then tomorrow, I think, I see the Shill. I should probably get in touch with her about that…
And then it’s off to get the Super Genius married off.
She’s asked me to do the toast at the reception. I’ve been practicing this ancient Viking* one:
Groom, groomsmen, kin, and friends of the groom, take a good look at us. If your man here does our Super Genius wrong, we will hunt him down, you down, and your friends down, tie you all to a log and set you adrift in the Atlantic, where, if the gods are merciful, you will be quickly eaten by angry seals. If they are not, your skin will slowly slough off while you die of hunger and dehydration. It will suck so bad you cannot even begin to imagine. Do not fuck with us.
But, hey, if you’re cool, we’re cool. Welcome to the family. A toast to a happy marriage, for your sake.
I hope she likes it.
*Okay, not really.