And, after telling her that the Doomsday device production is on schedule, I said:
"I'm so lazy. Oh my God, I'm so lazy."
Which is true.
I'm also becoming incredibly...shaded.
From the sun.
I could be a man in a cave. It's in me.
I don't mind being referred to as lazy.
As much as I don't mind being referred to as 'gangly.'
You call a spade a 'spade.'
I just wish that the term didn't sound so dirty.
Am I that unsavory?
"Yes," would be the short answer from the stock brokers and salmon sexers.
Who go out there every day and give it their all.
I give it my all every day as well.
To relaxation.
You tell me who's the dirty one.
(I know. It's still me).
Like most young lads, I too used to fantasize about my wedding day.
The song that would be played during the bride's eventual fleeing of the church.
For a while, and I'm embarrassed to say it, I was going to use 'There She Goes.'
But I think a lot of boys in junior high went through that phase.
I've somewhat settled on 'Take the Money and Run.'
There will be no money-taking involved, of course.
But it just seems to fit.
Anyway, I also decided from a young age:
I'm having my wedding on a Wednesday.
In February. Or January.
One of the shitty months.
Because everyone has their wedding during the summer on a weekend.
And that's bullshit.
It's clogging the nuptial industry.
But a wedding party's like an asshole group of tourists.
It's all 'me me me.'
Well fuck them.
Wednesday in February.
You can book the day off from work.
Because if there's stiff competition for a reservation at Fong's...
...something has gone wrong.
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