It seemed like a good idea at the time

I need to get that dead animal off the top of my page. So, now, even though I already posted a similar post to this one on MySpace, I'm going to talk a little about weddings and my socks.

NO MORE WEDDINGS!

Dom and Sue are the last ones. After that, no more. Read my, um, letters, no more.

I will have to say that I haven't had much of an opinion about the right for gays to marry up until recently. Let the straights keep that over 50% failure institution, though I. And I hate to sound like Carrie Bradshaw from that one episode of Sex in the City, but it does seem a little unfair that straight people get to invite a bunch of people to a party and get a bunch of presents and gay people don't really get to do that. I mean, I guess we can do a comittment ceremony, but it's not the same thing, is it?

I guess I still don't care. It's just that I'm really broke right now and the cost of renting a tux and thinking about getting a present is scary or at least in conflict with eating and shelter.

So, my new internet friend, Frank, introduced me to a new thing called the urban dictionary. It's pretty cool. Especially, cool are the example usage sentences. So, I give him mad props, yo.

Oh yeah, and lastly, here's a pic of my sock and Dominic.



It reminds me of my not-so-secret friendster friend [Frank: I'm back to being coy], Jack, because he has a picture of his socks on his profile, but they're big, wooly and stripey, while mine are merely tight and stripey.