C’mon, girl, dish. You can tell us. What are the colours? Indoors or out? How many attendants? Have you started planning the menu yet? Dress shopping? Are you going to make Steve the ring cat? Gazebo or bridge? Chicken or veal? High heels or …
<watches flatlined’s eyes begin to glow with some concern>
You know, maybe I’ll just … duck out of this thread. Yeah.
'scuse me!
<scurries off>
Oh, that’s perfect.
I mean, blatantly lie about the wedding plans that he’s making, and act like he’s changed his mind every day. One day it’s midget Elvis in Vegas, another day it’s a Zen Buddhist temple in the mountains in California, another day it’s getting married in St. Thomas while snorkeling. Plus he was shying away from a potluck reception because his Aunt Agnes from Minnesota will want to bring hotdish and jello salad, but maybe it’s a little overboard to try to get Masaharu Morimoto (from Iron Chef) to cater with a major sushi spread, so now he’s looking into a combination BBQ/fire juggler act to serve as catering and entertainment.
Either you’ll amuse the crap out of yourself, or they’ll learn it’s not worth asking you. Or maybe they’ll like the tales and keep coming back for more, but whatever happens, you’re not actually talking about your wedding, so it’s a win.
Ferret Herder shows signs of genius here.
But you’ve got enough things to worry about without coming up with a different cover story every day. If you do decide to go that route, I suggest you start a thread in MPSIMS, and invite people to submit their own ideas for what to tell everyone. Lot of talent here on the Dope. You might as well exploit it.
So, flatlined, how’s your lovely Zen Potluck Wedding in St. Thomas coming along? With the snorkeling juggler and the jello sushi salad…
OH
MY
GODS
just the mental image of Steve in full panic mode running around the church walls, say about six feet up…
:eek:
round and round and round…
I just completed that one with a vision of Tony (who probably looks better in my mental image than in reality) standing in the middle of the church, windmilling his arms and going “I told you that cat was fuckin’ NUTS!”
I think you should get married at the Taj Mahal (I mean, mausoleums are just so romantic!), with travel accomodations for guests covered by having a raffle. I do not recommend asking your coworkers whether they’d like to provide raffle prizes, because - they might just do that!
Contact Rick here on these boards.
What the hell people…when you use a public bathroom, especially the one in our little office at work, and you take a dump and make a big mess of streaks in the bowl, how fucking hard is it to hang around after the flush then flush again until all the streaks are washed off? Honestly, is it really that much time out of your precious day that you have to leave the can in such a state that it totally grosses out the next person to use it? What the hell is wrong with you?!
I suspect those are the bag of poop that I see lying around all over. I’m not a dog owner so I’m not completely in the know here, but I fail to see the benefit of a bag of poop lying somewhere over just a pile of poop.
OH MY GOD! Someone has pooped in a toilet! {Faints dead away.} 
The old “it’s not my responsibility to clean this place” gambit, eh?
Which apparently means that it becomes the responsibility of the next person who wants to use it because you’re too fucking lazy to clean up your own shit.
So. Fucking. Annoyed.
I’m supposed to talk with my boss about a presentation I’m giving tomorrow on a complex, technical subject I’m not entirely comfortable with. However, he’s a half hour late to our meeting. Goddamn it, I’ve got better things to do than sit around and wait for him to see fit to talk about this fucking presentation, which was due at noon. It is now 3 p.m. And it’s Halloween so most people get to leave early to take their children trick or treating, but I’ll probably be here waiting for his sorry ass 'til god knows when. Just like I did when I missed my a family birthday celebration thanks to him being a total dick.
And speaking of birthdays…my mom called and left me a message that she wants to talk about her visit during my birthday. Goddammit, woman. I don’t want you to visit during my fucking birthday. Or even on my daughter’s birthday (which is the day after). You’ll sit on your ass in my home, bitching about how no one has time for you when I work full time and it’s the absolute busiest season of the year. And you know that. Plus, I’m taking time off for my daughter’s birthday so we can do what she wants.
But my mom will want to sit around on her ass in my home and won’t want to do anything. And she’ll either want us to do nothing with her or she’ll want me to put my daughter in daycare so I can do nothing with mom by myself. No. Fucking. Way. I’ve been looking forward to this for months and you are not going to fuck it up like you fuck up almost every birthday you visit for. Which is specifically why I no longer invite you to my home on my birthday or my daughter’s. grrrrr.
Little guy, maybe three years old, comes trick or treating. He doesn’t have a bag, his mom does (along with two other bags - I think they were down by the street). While mom is on the stoop, little man is counting the row of lights we have along the path.
Mom: “Quit touching those lights!”
Oh, it’s fine - practicing his counting is good.
“You don’t tell someone else’s child what’s right or not. You’re not his mother, it ain’t your place”
I’m sorry, you’re right.
At which point she roughly grabs his shoulder, yanks him across the yard, and yells at him “You need to fuckin’ listen to me, dammit! Didn’t you hear me telling you not to touch shit? Get your damn ass movin’.”
Happy Halloween, little man.
No Halloween two years in a row because of the weather. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. And I have the friggin cutest little tiger costume for my eighteen month old, damn it. Also the hurricane winds smashed the pumpkin I put outside and forgot.
But the toilet has been flushed - it just isn’t pristine. I’m planning to release some bodily wastes into the toilet, not eat off of it.
Do you have a good friend in the area? Who knows about the problem you have with your mom screwing up birthdays?
Camp out with them for the weekend. DON’T TELL MOM!
Skin starts to turn green…Hulkess starts to look for cat to fling.
Honestly, I do know that the people who are constantly asking and bringing magazines for me to look at are trying to be nice. Its just making me nutz.
Nutz enough to think that Ferret Herder has the bestest idea. If I run out of ideas, I will follow kaylasdad99’s suggestion to post a thread in MPSIMS. People here are smart and snarky and nobody can do a snark thread better than Dopers.
Description of Tony…when he has his hair cut, he gets what he calls a “No-hawk”. Thats a bare stripe in the middle of his head. When he forgets to get his hair cut, he has an extream part.
Tony often forgets to wash or change clothes, so his black tshirts are usually pretty tattered. The toes of his boots are scuffed so much that the steel toes shoe. Tony wears a belt with his road name on the back and doesn’t understand why he gets so much shit about that.
Tony wouldn’t be standing around while Steve was running around the walls. Tony would be chasing him and tossing the wedding guests around. I can just see the grooms being tossed at my attendents, penis happening, photos happening.
Oh man, that would be the best wedding album ever!
Makes note in wedding planner…thorazine for Tony. Ketamine for Steve.
overly, in my family we describe your mother’s attitude as “she wants us to just sit there, admiring her face”. And as Littlebro puts it “it’s not like there’s anything particularly interesting about her face… it’s a useful face, it’s a face I’ve known a long time, but it isn’t exactly the face that launched a thousand ships.”
I need to throw up. :mad:
Mom ?