I sat on my bed in my bra and panties and wondered what the fuck I was going to do with my hair. Up? Down? Curly? Super straight? Half up in a messy "oh I just threw this together" bun? While I contemplated the hair situation I read an article on page 122 of the April issue of Details, "It's Okay if Your Wife is Ugly".
Courting an ugly woman is like hands-free dating. No flowers, no notes, no phone calls-just the promise of all the socket blowing sex you can stomach. Because above all, the onus is on them to keep you happy.Men are motherfuckers. I had two vodka lemonades, actually it was alot of vodka with a splash of lemonade,just to lower my blood pressure. Now my mother, step father, and brother came in town for this wedding. I sat getting my buzz on while my mother ran around screaming we were going to be late. The wedding was to commence at 6:00p.m. We walked in the church, I shit you not, at 5:59. As I walked down the aisle I saw thousands of pink flowers. Mostly roses but there were Gerber daisies thrown in as well. I started to cry.
I wasn't crying tears of joy either. I was crying because I am of a certain age and realized I may never walk down an aisle strewn with Gerber daisies, dressed in white, the total center of attention. I know I am one girly little bitch aren't I? There were twelve bridesmaids and four flower girls. I just sat there throughout the whole wedding, sniffling like some kind of club kid who had done a pound of coke. My family kept shooting me looks like it was finally time to commit me.
I walked into the reception and headed straight for the bar. They only offered wine and beer. WHERE THE FUCK IS THE VODKA I NEED TO MAINLINE? So I settled on wine and drank. And drank. And drank. A young groomsman named "Brooks" asked me to dance. I danced one dance. I drank more. I asked my grand daddy to dance telling him he better take the offer now as I probably wouldn't ever have a wedding for him to dance at. I drank more. "Brooks" grabbed my ass in front of my brother and whispered in my ear something about having vodka at his place. My brother nipped that right in the bud with an evil look. I drank more. I briefly thought about what a good time I would have had if a certain person really had come to the wedding with me. We could have scandalized the South. Or at least a small portion of it.
It was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. My uncle, the bride's new father in law, said "Throw it to Lola, she needs all the help she can get." One of the fucking flower girls caught the bouquet. My mom swears I could have taken her. I just wandered off for more wine. When it came time to depart I kissed the Groom and he rubbed my left ring finger and said, "For luck, it's gotta happen soon." Bastard!
A few of us went to someone's house where I immediately did three shots of tequila. My brother took the previously posted picture because I said I wanted a memento of what weddings did to me. I came home crawled in bed and thought it would be a great idea to post an entry and out myself to the world. I woke up in cold panic at about 3:30a.m. realizing what I had done. I will describe the picture as best I can to those of you who missed it. It was a head shot of Lola, hair in her face, befuddled look in her eyes. Yes the beauty mark is visible. Yes, Very Intelligent Man, I know I am a complete dumbass for posting a picture on an anonymous blog. If you had been here instead of teaching little kids dirty words it sure as shit wouldn't have happened. We would have been too busy causing trouble for me to post anything on the internet.
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