Everyone's so intimately rearranged, everyone can focus clearly with that shine

Look, I know it's been a while. Shut up already, will you? I've been busy. It's not you, it's me.

Actually, it's you.

In all seriousness, September was one of the busiest months I've ever had, and it's looking like October isn't going to downshift much, either. But I suppose I should write something, for fear that someone will give me even more shit. So here's the recap of the past week or so.

I went to a wedding this past weekend, which was fantastic. It was the wedding of my half-Indian, half Kansan friend, and his now-wife, who is Lithuanian. Let's just say it was quite eclectic. Saturday night was the dull-as-watching-paint-dry Christian church ceremony, with more than 50% of it in Lithuanian. It's bad enough that I don't know shit about Christianity, but now we have to do it in other languages?

As a side bar, let me just say - I've been to weddings of a variety of different denominations, and man - do Catholics know how to fuck up what is supposed to be a celebratory day. No offense to any Catholics, but... man. Did we really need the passage about the guy with sores all over his body? Did we really need that? Egads. And also - can we do something about the pews? I'm a naturally fidgety person, and I thought that if I shifted wrong, I was gonna tear that thing into toothpicks by accident. Small and uncomfortable is not a good combo if people are gonna be sitting (and standing. and kneeling. rinse, repeat.) for a couple of hours in a row. Though I suspect it would have been funny to see me standing in the wreckage of a church pew in my suit, waiting for the lightning to strike.

Anyway. Saturday night was the reception, which is where all the fun is anyway. And it was a ball. I, of course, remained sober and sedate, as is my way. And by that I mean... I got rowdily drunk, and my friends and I did whiskey toasts, which is never a good idea. But I succeeded in not spilling anything on myself, which is the equivalent of me winning a war single-handed.

The following day, after waking up and feeling like someone had left a steak knife in my brain, we went back and there was the Hindu ceremony, which was fascinating. Of course, one of my friends (and a groomsman, incidentally) was so hungover he simply left in the middle of it, to go (as he phrased it) "shout at his shoes". Not pretty. But the ceremony was great, we had a lovely brunch at a hotel on the Charles River with a great view, and I accidentally got drunk again. At one in the afternoon. Whoops.

Friday, Mrs. TK and I went to The Big E in Springfield, MA, which is a... I'm not sure how to describe it. It's a combination of carnival, amusement park, shopping expo and livestock expo. It's actually far weirder than it sounds. But it was a surprisingly fun time, and not just because of the inordinate number and variety of mullets. I think the highlight of it was there was a demonstration by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, where they did intricate choreographed patterns and whatnot on horseback. Mrs. TK was fascinated by the horses, I was fascinated because in my mind, the Mounties are always dressed like that. That's what I like to think, anyway. I picture bars and supermarkets up in Canada with guys dressed like this all the time wandering in and out. I think this is what they wear when they have sex, or mow their lawns. At least, I hope so.



Wednesday I got a new tattoo. I was gonna post pictures, but that turned out to be harder than I thought. It's on my shoulder and wraps around my arm a couple of times. Not an easy photo to take. It was a great experience and I love the new work. So anyone in the Boston area - Redemption Tattoo in Porter Square, Cambridge. Good spot. Ask for Josh.

Anyway. There's my recap of the past week, for anyone who cares. This week marks a momentous occasion - namely, meeting up with a fellow blogger for the first time. Should be interesting, though he's probably a gigantic douchebag. I kid, Matt, I kid.

Only not really.

Oh, and one more thing:



Fuck. Yeah.


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Listening to: Dropkick Murphys - Wicked Sensitive Crew