Just returned from St. Cloud, where Lindsey and I did our best Wedding Crashers impersonation, thanks to our friend Jenny, who immediately called and invited us to her friend's open bar wedding when she first heard about it. If Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn have taught us anything, it's that it is perfectly acceptable to go the wedding of two people that you don't know. It was a lovely ceremony. Hands-down highlight was the gospel reading that came from, you guessed it, Paul's first letter to the Corinthians. True story. I had to battle to not laugh out loud, or "LOL", as it is commonly known these days. Lindsey and I fought off the looks of puzzlement from everyone who didn't know us. It was borderline OK for me, as I could pass as Jenny's date. Not so for Lindsey, but she handled it well. Rule number 76: No excuses, play like a champion. Kind of an MVP weekend all-around for Lindsey, due in large part to the 394 fist pounds that she handed out to strangers while bar-hopping the night before.
The open bar was a huge success, and Jenny's ex Adam and I had a great time grabbing beers, giving them to some random person, and telling them to deliver them to each other across the room and give each other a sexy wave afterwards like we were buying drinks for a girl. Good times all around. Unfortunately, since it was approximately 137 degrees and bridesmaids were passing out from heat exhaustion, the dance was cancelled, and my bullpen let me down with the bridesmaid that had been eye-humping me all evening, and I ended up with a no-decision.
All-in-all good times, and now I feel like I am primed for Josh and Heidi's big day this Saturday. People like to be in the prescence of true love. It's powerful stuff.
P.S. I swear I could've heard The Ville calling my name this weekend, Benny.
