Domestic Supply Stores = Depression

So, not sure if I mentioned this to anyone, but I am getting married in less than 3 weeks.

Ya know, no biggie. It's not like I am the stressing-type.   /sarcasm font

So I moseyed ("mosey-ed"?) on down to the local Home Outfitters to add some stuff to the registry. You know, some reasonable kitchen crap instead of the overpriced pots and pans.

Holy shit.

Want to feel inadequate in the kitchen? Roam the stemware aisle (that's, like, fancy glasses and wine goblets and the like. You know, gold chalices. What every household needs. Like cowbell. MORE MORE MORE).

Want to feel inept in food preparation? Glance at the food combustion/chopping/processing/flame-throwing Cuisinarts. Read their boxes and STILL walk away perplexed at their actual purpose.

Want to feel overwhelmed? Try selecting JUUUUST THE RIGHT garlic peeler and press. Out of 20. All overpriced and looking similar to what I assume torture devices look like.

Then I come across the devices designed for the ridiculously lazy. Or those phallic plastic banana cases. $7... really? I think I will just take the extreme risk of a bruised banana. I'm crazy like that.

Strap sheets to "ensure your bedsheets stay attractively flat". Yeah, um, there may or may not be dog pee currently on my bedsheets right now. That are half off the bed. I think I'm fine without the straps.

And don't even get me STARTED on the Martha Stewart shit out there. Soon enough she'll have suppositories and lubricant. (What?!? She WAS in prison, folks, regardless of her ridiculously fake I-have-a-team-but-I'll-make-you-feel-less-than-inferior domestic skills.)

I came home and made soup from a can. I stirred it with a metal spoon, in my metal pot from Walmart, and didn't have a fancy spoon rest. *gasp*

I may or may not have eaten it straight from the pot. I'm not telling.

Domestic mastering is just not my thing. What a depressing "shopping" outing.

*sigh*


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Ridiculous Wedding Wish List

I have decided that the following must occur in order to have a fun wedding.

Anything less will result in severe disappointment:

• A flash mob must break out in the surrounding park, or at the reception.
• I must be able to drink as much as I want, but still only remain 'buzzed' and coherent, so as to remember the night.
• There should, nay, MUST, be people on flying trapeze. I don't care where, just within eyesight.
• I expect Michael Jackson to be there. Motherf*cking moon walking. I don't care how it happens, it just needs to happen.

Like this, with more Michael Jackson, less headband, and more safety for the surrounding children.

• Elvis should arrive in time to sing my parents' song.
• I really hope the speeches are good/heartwarming/loving/filled with minimal content that is extremely embarrassing.
• My friend must break out an x-rated rendition of "I Like Big Butts", complete with dance moves.
• My dress should have a built in hoist in order to facilitate toilet usage.

Add some ribbon and lace and that should do the trick...

• All of my body hair must miraculously fall off the day before the wedding, except for my eyebrows and the hair on my head.
• And, finally, I hope to find the right balance between a romantic updo hairstyle and that of the Bride of Frankenstein... as well as subtle-but-flattering make-up vs. waxen whore vs. Jim Carrey's "The Mask".

Why So Serious, Eva Longoria?

Or:

You know, a nice, soft, natural look...

 See? I'm easy to please. No weding diva here. Nope. Not at all.


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