$5000 Flowers? Sign me up!

Ah, weddings. A bride’s day. A mother of the bride’s day. Probably more so. In fact, I know so. We all know the moms are the fucking crazy ones. Demanding this, demanding that. You paid for it? Suck it. Well, actually, don’t. Those who pay have a say. Which is why, don’t be a cheap ass. But wait! I can’t afford my awesome perfect once in a lifetime wedding on my meager salary? How can I have the day of my life? Well, let me tell you one thing right away little miss cliche of America. Your super special once in a lifetime day? Yeah, I leave your wedding hall and I can walk into 4 fucking more of them. Your’s ain’t special. You’re a number. A statistic at Inn by the Sea or whatever the fuck it’s called, a wedding factory.

You’re getting married this summer? Fantastic. I would like nothing more than to spend $300 on a place ticket. Another $100 on a gift (if I actually bought them), and another on a suit (if I already didn’t own one that sniffs out my sexiness.) But hey, I’m a guy. Girls have to buy the dress that always looks like shit, usually strapless. Hello? None of you are models. Strapless does nothing but accentuate. And where I’m from, that means arm and chest fat. Lots of it. They don’t call ‘em Chicago girls for nothing. We know, we know, the bride cannot let anyone look better than her on her day. How fucking insecure are you? All of these fuckers drove, flew, spent tons of money just to be there, to see you, and yet you fucking still go apeshit when your high school friend shows up trying to get laid. Give a girl a chance! You think some drunk stud in the crowd will notice her dancing like a slut if she wearing a poofy shoulders and knee length dress?

And all you fucks who are in the wedding party? Sitting in the limo an extra hour, drinking all that extra booze, when I have to mingle with the unruly relatives, deliberately eating no appetizers so the alcohol kicks in faster, so their questions pertaining to my future and their lack of understanding don’t drive me mad? I have a personal salad I’d like you to try. Tossed.

The Orchid Thief

So. I’ve been pretty busy lately. Hard to have time for things when I need all my sit around and do nothing time. I’ve been rummaging my collossal head for something to write about, or something to make myself laugh, which is what I always find the funniest, but alas. Nothing. Two months, and nothing to say. Those who know how loud and annoying I am, will find that impossible. Problem is, every time I think of something to write about, I’m sober. Hence, it doesn’t get put on the page. Drunk Anton doesn’t care that what he’s writing is of no consequence to those reading; he merely types away as fast as possible, testing his inebriation accuracy as well as his train of thought. Anyhoo, I’ve gone Donald and Charlie Kaufman. Nothing to say, so I’ll write about it.

Ok, as usual, I’ve got some stuff rolling now. Just bought a fucking kiss ass new tv. 61” DLP 1080p Samsung HD. Am I bragging? Am I being boisterous? Fuck yes. Weep at your pity you watch every night. Know that I own greatness. This not only is 1080 quality, it is 1080p. That’s better than 1080i. A difference my television whored friends. One you should heed if you decide to embark on my recent shopping journey.

Let’s see…run through the cliche topics. Oceans 13? Sucked. Boring with a capital Clooney. Clooney is the shit, but this movie ain’t. Give me Michael Clayton. Knocked Up? Absolutely incredible. Seth Rogan is the man. Go rent Undeclared and Freaks and Geeks dvds. Ok, enough movie critic. I’ll have my true critique on one of the most underrated films of all time soon enough.