All Man
The full pictorial holiday update will have to wait since I left our camera cable back in Austin (we're at Lizett's parents' place in Houston), but count on many adorable shots of my many adorable nieces and my one adorable nephew, and possibly some bonus closeups of my firm but supple buttocks. I got some new pants.
Two more checks on the wedding planning list. First, we booked our honeymoon, a place called Aventura Spa Palace down in Riviera Maya on the recommendation of my brother and sister-in-law, who said it's just all kinds of awesome and if you have a hankering for some steaks in the middle of the night, which we surely will, well then you just call down and they'll be shoveling beef down your gullet before you can say "I paid out the ass for this months ago so it feels free, free, freeeeee!" Also there's some pyramids or something which everyone assures me are mind-blowing, so we'll shoehorn in some culture between stuffing our faces, snapping our fingers at waiters, and long, fevered games of monopoly when the lights go out.
Secondly, we went and got our wedding bands. We were having trouble finding one for Lizett because I got her a very dainty engagement setting to contrast her plump, kielbasa-like fingers and maximize the bling factor of the main attraction, and everything we saw tended to fit poorly against it. Then, because I am God's favorite, out of the blue comes a perfectly sized wrap, set with deep blue sapphires and accent diamonds, which slides around the big dawg as if they were designed as one ring. BONG.
For myself, I got the manliest ring ever forged. Tungsten carbide, baby. You can't dent, scratch, or bend it. Also you can't resize it, so if my finger ever changes I have to get painful surgery in lieu of a trip to the jewelry store. How manly is that!? And the thing is HEAVY. It's like carrying around a big block of lead everywhere you go. Years down the road, my left arm will be a foot and a half longer than my right, and everyone will know it's because I'm all man. The guy who sold it to me said nothing will break it short of a bullet. A bullet! Dude used gunfire in his sales pitch for this ring. Another salesman, in an attempt to steer me towards more expensive platinum, told me about a "friend of his cousin" who got in a car accident and got his tungsten carbide ring caught on some part of the car, and the paramedics had to cut his finger off because they couldn't cut through the ring. It apparently did not occur to them to cut through whatever the ring was caught on. He wasn't a particularly bright salesman. The point is, his hilariously poorly thought out fabrication just made the ring manlier in my eyes, and anyone who says different is in serious danger of taking a big block of lead to the sternum.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Two more checks on the wedding planning list. First, we booked our honeymoon, a place called Aventura Spa Palace down in Riviera Maya on the recommendation of my brother and sister-in-law, who said it's just all kinds of awesome and if you have a hankering for some steaks in the middle of the night, which we surely will, well then you just call down and they'll be shoveling beef down your gullet before you can say "I paid out the ass for this months ago so it feels free, free, freeeeee!" Also there's some pyramids or something which everyone assures me are mind-blowing, so we'll shoehorn in some culture between stuffing our faces, snapping our fingers at waiters, and long, fevered games of monopoly when the lights go out.
Secondly, we went and got our wedding bands. We were having trouble finding one for Lizett because I got her a very dainty engagement setting to contrast her plump, kielbasa-like fingers and maximize the bling factor of the main attraction, and everything we saw tended to fit poorly against it. Then, because I am God's favorite, out of the blue comes a perfectly sized wrap, set with deep blue sapphires and accent diamonds, which slides around the big dawg as if they were designed as one ring. BONG.
For myself, I got the manliest ring ever forged. Tungsten carbide, baby. You can't dent, scratch, or bend it. Also you can't resize it, so if my finger ever changes I have to get painful surgery in lieu of a trip to the jewelry store. How manly is that!? And the thing is HEAVY. It's like carrying around a big block of lead everywhere you go. Years down the road, my left arm will be a foot and a half longer than my right, and everyone will know it's because I'm all man. The guy who sold it to me said nothing will break it short of a bullet. A bullet! Dude used gunfire in his sales pitch for this ring. Another salesman, in an attempt to steer me towards more expensive platinum, told me about a "friend of his cousin" who got in a car accident and got his tungsten carbide ring caught on some part of the car, and the paramedics had to cut his finger off because they couldn't cut through the ring. It apparently did not occur to them to cut through whatever the ring was caught on. He wasn't a particularly bright salesman. The point is, his hilariously poorly thought out fabrication just made the ring manlier in my eyes, and anyone who says different is in serious danger of taking a big block of lead to the sternum.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Lizett wins Christmas this year. We exchanged gifts last night to avoid lugging them to Columbus and she got me a Garmin Nüvi, which is just all kinds of awesomer than anything I got her. Now with google maps in my pocket and a disembodied voice in my car literally telling me what to do turn-by-turn in real time, my mastery over the physical world is nearly complete--all that is left is to become the ultimate fighting champion.
It's that time of year when things start to get real itchy and not a little horrifying: 
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3:35 PM, December 31, 2007
11:06 AM, January 04, 2008
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