Weddings Make Women Go Crazy

There is no such thing as a sane woman. Period. End of story. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying, or a woman, and since woman are predisposed towards lying as a natural condition, it's really all the same thing. Women cannot be caught by lie detector tests because such devices are designed to test whether or not the person believes what they are saying, and women internalize their lies and weave such elaborate fantasies around them that they are unable to read words coming out of their mouths as anything other than gospel.

Additionally, women, unless chastized otherwise, enjoy talking about whatever situation they're involved in, as long as they feel free to do so, which usually involves another woman being present, since they would likely be the only ones that another woman would trust her deep dark secrets to. Keep in mind, that to a woman, nearly all of her inner workings are private and deep dark secrets; this extends from how many Snickers bars she ate that day, to how she really feels about the new guy at the office. However, if you add a little pressure to the situation, their willingness to only extend the privilege of talking about their issues and problems becomes enlarged to include everyone that is around them and they will constantly remind anyone listening of exactly what is happening and then force them to do something. This brings us to....


The Wedding

My little sister got married a week ago, and since like most weddings it was essentially run by women it was an incredibly stressful affair and we are all very lucky that no one was killed or maimed. Now I'm not saying that some people didn't want to kill each other, I'm just saying that it didn't happen.

My part in the whole wedding began when I arrived home and since my experience with anything important in my family involves not being told about anything till the last minute and then getting directions shoved down my throat, and being forced to wear a tie, and finding out 30 minutes prior that I have to pick someone up from the airport I wasn't exactly looking forward to the whole process so I tried to stay out of the way as much as possible since it's very likely that I would be in the way and whatever it was that needed doing would probably be done better by the women involved anyway.

So I had just arrived home to have the "family dinner" which involves my parents and all 4 "children" sitting at the places that we sat at our whole lives around the family dinner table. My father tried to make an elaborate speech about how important it was to my time to have the whole family for dinner again but it was quickly interrupted by my brother complaining about something involving food or reminding everyone what someone else at the table used to do 10 years ago, followed by my other sister chiming in an laughing and my mom commenting about how they didn't have to eat their food in "such a vulgar fashion". Sometime during this chivalrous exchange my dad managed to slip away and go upstairs to read an action novel in his underwear with the fan on.

Meanwhile at dinner, a lot of squawking ensued, some food was eaten, and I was presented with the opportunity to be the mc for the wedding which should have been a warning sign to me head for the exits, but I'm a poor sap that can't say no because saying yes just feels so doggone good. Also whenever anyone in my family tries to say no they get made to feel like a schmuck, an argument starts, and then someone slams the door and leaves before fists fly.

I'd also been told about being the greeter some weeks before which I was fine with. I have excellent skills in saying "hello!", "Thanks for coming", and my favorite "try an hoedurve." So this, mixed with my new all important duties as M.C. meant I was going to be the relative face of this wedding for everyone who was coming, be they redneck, white trash, country bumpkin, or just plain ol' next door neighbor. M.C. however, is another story entirely, you have to get up in front of everyone with a microphone and talk, lesser man have had bowel problems and sleepless nights over a post like this, but I resolved to honor the position with honor and respect, because that's who I am, and that's who I care about - the people of this great city, and fine town, and I'm very glad to be here.

In the days before the wedding, there were a thousand little tasks that needed to be doing because they had not been hired out, instead my sister who was not getting married hired herself out as slave labor for the weekend, making hundreds of baked chocolate goodies to put in bags to give away as party favors and to sweat over. Despite my best efforts to remain unseen, I was recruited to put chocolate in bags, which I can safely say that I didn't do as much as I could have. I was just there to lend my moral support to anyone who needed it, and at a wedding, you can bet that there will always be a need for that.

Then there was some discussion that my aunt was trying to take control over her perceived (accurately of course) idea that the wedding was not going according to how it should be. She was correct, although it was going according to plan. Chaos is a plan after all, and so it ensued.

Then the day of the wedding rehearsal dawned and everyone looked respendlant in their tuxes and gowns while all of the grooms family took a well deserved smoke break, after all, they showed up on time, wasn't that work enough? During this time I was grabbed, pushed, pulled, and mauled by my sister, mom and 2 different aunts who all wanted my ear, or a piece of my time, or to adjust my collar, or get me to move a plant. If it hadn't been for them, none of those things would have happened, and then where would we be? Not married, that's where.

So then, the wedding itself went off without a hitch. This means that it was wierd just like all weddings which should be like a pressure valve letting off steam. When they say "I do", all the woman involved should finally be relaxed and they can have a good time and not obsess over the little details.

Obviously this was not the case, and during the reception I was pinched half a dozen times to get up and say something as the MC. It probably would have helped if I had known the names of half the people that the groom picked to be his "mighty men" as it was, I had to read their names off a card as they came in, and it's a good thing they came in the order listed, otherwse they would have been seriously embarassed, and then had a few drunken words with me after about 5 corona's which they would brag was only the beginning of how much alcohol they could hold, and how it didn't affect them at all.

So the kids got married, and I greeted people, who did their best to shove past me and sit down, while I calmly reminded them that they needed to sign the guest book, because otherwise they would be forgotten about 10 years from now when Anna and Shawn went to look at that guestbook and see who was there that fateful day. I kid, I kid, the guestbook is actually really unimportant and I don't know any married couple who ever looks at it again or even knows where it is. Perhaps there's a huge collection of them stored in that big warehouse right next to the ark of the covenant.

After the wedding I was off to my new duties as MC which meant essentially that I had a lot less time to eat than most people because I had to stand up and look stiff in front of everyone while people paid me no attention at all as I announced "Hi, you may remember me from earlier when you signed the guestbook. Guess not huh? Alright...moving on. Howz everybody doing tonight?....alright tough crowd tough crowd.

I did my best to allow for some patter but I saw no heads turned my way at all so I just stood there and waited for official type things to say like "Here they are now for the first time ever...the married couple that you came here to see for crying out loud!!!!!"

My favorite part of the night was when people came up to talk on the microphone and toast the new couple. Most of them who came up forgot to introduce themselves, so I had to do it for them while they were talking. I was put on a tight leash at this point and several key woman in the wedding came up to remind me that I'm doing great and that I better not screw this up. It was all going great, what with people talking and me handing the microphone to them, until some ugly rednecks came up with their little daughters and asked if they could toast the couple. I had already been ordered and pinched on the arm to let no one else speak after my grandfather "But I haven't spoken" I protested. I was accused of being stubborn. But I spoke anyway and I could hear some sighs coming from the ladies who were upset that I was taking too long with the talking.

Then the ugly rednecks got in my face and started threatening me right before I was supposed to announce the first dance. They were on their 8th corona and out of their mind that I wouldn't let their little daughters speak. They were just hovering over me in front of the dj table from which I was talking on a corded microphone with only an 8 foot cord, so I had nowhere to run. They wanted me to let their daughters talk and I said that I was ordered not to let anyone else talk and they informed that they were going to "get this straightened out". I had this vision of me being thrown over a table followed by a bench clearing brawl. It was really amazing. There was 2 huge dudes just standing in front of me and no one seemed to notice that anything was wrong and they were just wondering how come I wasn't doing any announcing.

Amazingly enough all the women were still nervous and the dancing part of the afterparty must have only lasted 20 minutes and there wasnt any of that cute "daughter dancing with her father or grandfather stuff" nope, no time for that, that's for sure. How could they possibly have time for that? There was a schedule to keep! The schedule was so important that the cutting of the cake and the boquet toss was sorta mashed together and I don't even think there was a garter toss. Sorry guys.

Before I knew it, I was handed bubbles and we were blowing them a stupid bubble filled goodbye. I think party streamers or confetti would be more fun. And it wouldn't it be cool if we used noise makers more in real life?

Norman Ferguson retires

The 4 time champ

It had been a long time coming, but yet most of his friends and family didn't see the telltale signs of a man burnt out from the near daily stress of checking lineups and scorecards and trying to sweettalk his best friends into gift dropping him their best players. And at 12:31 this morning, it officially happened - Norman Ferguson retired from Fantasy Football.

In one last post to the league where Norman had spent the better part of the last 10 years of his life he cited mental fatigue and a desire to spend more time with his family as some of the major contributing factors. "Apparently I have a third son now and my daughter graduated college. When my wife gave me the dates of these events I tried to track down where I was at the time to figure out how I could have forgotten about such important events.

According to the timeline, I was likely reading my foxsports news update about Priest Holmes possibly missing a game during week 2 of the "Big Dawgs" epic playoff matchups. This just blew my mind. I mean for gosh sakes the man was a fantasy monster for years without skipping a beat and now his hamstring hurts when I have to play Damage Inc. in the second round? Thank god I was smart enough to hang a roster spot onto Larry Johnson or I would have been in serious trouble. I mean stud running backs are just impossible to come by.

And now it turns out that this was exactly the time that my precious baby Boy, Randy Moss Ferguson, was born. And then the year after that I was in the middle of trade talks to move Jimmy Smith and Michael Vick for Tom Brady but Born Winner wasn't having any of it. Smith is too old and Vick too unpredictable he told me, sure it's cool to see him run for 100 yards but running quarterbacks don't win championships. Heh, I sure put him in his place 8 weeks later when the Vick Experience threw and ran for a touchdown.

It sure would have been nice if I could remember Rachel's smile as she finished up her B.A. in whatever it was she majored in. Now I think I was there, but I really can't remember much during that time except how Jimmy Smith hung 200 yards and a score on those pathic Saints. Good thing I held onto him."

Sometime later in the very long and increasingly rant filled post Norman finally admitted that the thrill of competition just didn't stir him on anymore knowing that his family couldn't be there to cheer him on. "It just didn't seem real to me anymore", Norman admitted during a moment of quiet reflection. "I mean it was like I was living a double life and always coming out on the short end of the stick."

Shortly after becoming the manager of his second son's little league football team, The Bulls, Norman started to realize that he had some problems when he traded little Cody, a respectable second string receiver at the time, for defensive help and next year's fifth round draft choice from crosstown rivals, The Rabid Wolverines.

"That and the fact that my wife left me after that really opened up my eyes a little bit," Ferguson allowed. "When you have to make your own dinner every day and the dishes pile up and visitation rights for your kids are every other week, you start to realize there's more important things in life then staring at Stat Tracker and watching Terrell Owens eat up the yards every Sunday afternoon."

Mr. Ferguson will now be undergoing group therapy with his family on Friday afternoons and passing out Cambell's chunky soup to hungry fans on game day and he's feeling good about himself again.