Do you still love us?

HoBiscuit and I are still doing a lot of work getting ready for our upcoming wedding, so things will continue to be a little slow around here for at least the next two weeks. We’re doing pretty well crossing things off our list of ‘things necessary to do in order to get married’. We’ve got the Dress, the place, the flowers, the DJ, the food, the invitations and almost everything else. You could say we’ve got just about everything we need for this wedding, so what could we possibly be doing that’s taking up all of our precious internet time?

Well, you see, we haven’t found anyone to perform the ceremony yet.

I know, I know. We are stupid. Yes, yes, I understand that we seem to have plenty of time to find someone to marry us, but I can assure you that we do not, especially since I will be traveling for the next two weeks. That means we need to book someone before I leave or we’ll really be up a poo creek without a T.P. boat in October. With evil, little fishes made of corn chunks with sharp, pointy teeth circling us as we sink into the stinky sludge.

Ew.

So, as I get ready to loose my mind trying to please four different parental units with two different religious beliefs at one wedding event, I would appreciate any show of support you might want to express to my future wife and I. A comment here would be nice, or an email, if you’re feeling eloquent, would be even nicer. But to truly show your support and love for us, you might do something even better! Now, you might be asking yourself, “What could possibly be better than an email of love?!” and on any other day I’d be hard pressed to give you a good answer.

But this is not any other day.

So from today, and until our happy wedding day on January 2nd, if you really want to show HoBiscuit and I just how much you love us, you can buy us a little something from our brand spanking new Wedding Registry! Personally, I’d think you were a cheap llama-loving loser if you didn’t buy us the new Sony Clie, or at least the complete Ranma ½ Digital Dojo collection. But that’s just me. HoBiscuit says she’d be thrilled to get even a single CD or book from someone, but I don’t think she’ll really be happy without The Complete Monty Python’s Flying Circus Megaset to go with it.

And Half-Life 2. We must not forget Half-Life 2.

BTW, if you actually know us in real life then ignore the GeekMan & HoBiscuit registry since we’ve set up other registries under our real names for our family and friends. So, if you actually thought you could get off easy by buying us a DVD for $15 and calling it a day, you’ve got another think coming. That’s right, grandma. Can we say “Wüsthof”? How about “All-Clad”?

And Mr. Hentai; if I see even ONE gravy boat I will kill you. Dead.

I’ve become a monster.

At what point does an otherwise normal man, with the typical dismissive male attitude towards his own wedding, suddenly become so infatuated with a stupid and trivial wedding decision, the invitation font choice and color for example, that he is willing to throttle his own mother rather than back down from his font of choice? Holy crap, we haven’t even started haggling over the invite list yet!

I just hope my mother doesn’t kick me in the nuts again.

I’m going fricking nuts.

This week is all about the Mighty Wedding Invitations, so I have almost no time whatsoever for anything HoBiscuit considers unnecessary or off-topic. You know, things like eating, sleeping or breathing all take a backseat to the construction of the perfect wedding invitation, especially when we (read: I) need to finish them before the end of the month. In fact, the only way I’ve been able to get on the web at all has been by secretly tapping into my previously latent psychic abilities and warping the time/space continuum in such a way as to halt time long enough to properly wordsmith this missive without letting HoBiscuit find out what I was doing.

So if anyone tells HoBiscuit that I Blogged today, I’m a dead man.

BTW, anyone know any good love poems and/or travel poems that are wedding invitation worthy? I’ve come up with a great design for the invitations but I need a love poem about marriage and a love poem about travel for it, and I can’t seem to find any good ones anywhere on the web.

Excuse me while I use this spoon to pop my left eyeball out of my skull and then squash it in my own fist.

Also, if you are a hairy man in need of sleep, do not attempt to light your farts to impress your mate and/or friends. Explaining the four alarm fire engulfing your entire neighborhood to the fire marshal is neither a fun, nor an enjoyable, experience, no matter how loud the laughter is from your so-called ‘friends’. It is especially un-fun when you are completely covered in third degree burns and every hair on your body has melted into the top layer of your skin making you look like a giant talking mound of flesh-colored wax.

And technically, you were working with flammable materials in a confined area so when the fire marshal gives you a ticket, don’t act so surprised.

Don’t ask. Just trust me on this one, k?

It must run in the family.

Everyone in my family seems to really, truly enjoy mentally and emotionally torturing the people they love. Not just in a little way, either. Oh, no. We can’t seem to pass up any opportunity to destroy the mental stability of the people around us. And should someone be foolish enough to actually leave their emotions on the table for us to see, well let’s just say that we always carry around a special ‘Emotion Crushing Hammer Of Gotcha!’

Let me give you a perfect example.

Last night, after a wonderful evening of watching Shakespeare In The Park with his lovely girlfriend (Papaya), my brother (Fishman) was shocked to find himself being called up on stage. There, in front of a few hundred strangers, Papaya got down on one knee and presented Fishman with a beautiful bracelet and proposed to him.

Isn’t that sweet?

They’ve been together for six long years, a fricking lifetime for someone to put up with Fishman let me tell you, and I guess she finally got tired of waiting for him so she decided to take matters into her own hands. She probably decided this during one of the many, many discussions on the subject when I bet he said something to the effect of, “If you want to get married so badly, why don’t you propose to me?”

Isn’t he a bastard?

Now, I know Papaya pretty well and I bet she planned out the whole evening far in advance of the actual event. She probably planned out everything from what she would wear to what she would say and even various scenarios of what Fishman would say in response to ‘The Question’.

But I bet she never expected the reality.

You see, unbeknown to Papaya, Fishman had done some planning of his own. Knowing her and her stubborn nature he had purposely planted in her mind the thought of proposing to him. His reasons were threefold;

1. He knew that she would come up with something far more romantic and memorable than his idea of putting a ring inside a dead fish and smacking her in the head with it while screaming “Look out! That’s a North American Killer Proposal Fish! The only way to stop it from attacking you and eating your brains is to say ‘I do’ and then rip open its stomach and remove what’s inside! Quick! Say you’ll marry me or it’s going to eat through your skull and suck your brains!”
2. He needed to keep her from realizing that he had already begun shopping for a ring.
3. And because my brother is my brother, and he truly enjoys mentally & emotionally torturing those he loves. The bastard.

So, after making Papaya gather up the courage to reverse the customary roles and do the proposing herself, and making her shop for an engagement bracelet in ‘secret’, and having her plan a very romantic evening out with the man she loves, and arranging for a spectacular proposal in front of hundreds of people she didn’t know, my brother reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring he’d been constantly carrying around for the last two weeks.

Isn’t he a BASTARD!?

Well, luckily for Fishman she really does love him, because instead of beating the crap out of him and shoving that bracelet up his butt, she merely got misty eyed and said yes. He said yes in turn and the audience did what any audience would do in that situation and pelted them with rotten fruit and vegetables for their lousy performance and demanded their money back, even though it was a free concert.

Actually I think they all clapped, but the fruit would have been cool.

So, congratulations to my brother for finding himself a woman who loves him enough to forgive him after putting her through all that. And to Papaya, congratulations, I guess. More like condolences, actually. I don’t know what you’re thinking girl, but you should run away as quickly as you can. Don’t think even for a moment that it’s going to get any easier as the years go by. You’ve met our family, so you should realize that we’re ALL crazy. We ALL like our practical jokes and the mental games and emotional triathlons we put our loved ones through. Don’t believe me? I’ve got three words for you;

Grandma and Grandpa. ‘Nuff said.

This is me after only one day of wedding planning.

Saturday was our first official day of searching for a wedding reception site. By the end of the day I had driven over 100 miles, been on the receiving end of The Look™ six times and been informed by no less than three reception site marketing weenies that money comes and goes, but marriages last a lifetime. The last was usually followed by, “So a loving husband, like yourself, would of course opt for the deluxe package for only [astronomically large sum of money] more.”

Proudly, I only went into cardiac arrest due to sticker shock once.

Sunday was more of the same, only we went to more places where I was either ignored completely or ‘subtly’ prodded to spend more money to prove my love. By the time Sunday night rolled around, I was so starved for any kind of social interaction regarding anything other than weddings and/or money that I actually called my mother and asked her to tell me about her weekend at the Stamping Convention.

Can you even begin to imagine how low I had sunk?

Yesterday, instead of doing anything constructive, like post something here, I sat around and played video games until my eyes bled and then I watched Ocean’s Eleven, The Matrix and Desperado on the VEHTS. I’m sorry I didn’t post anything, but sometimes a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do to regain his masculinity. Tomorrow I’ll be back to top form and I might even write a song parody for the holidays, just like last year.

Anyone have any song suggestions?