What’s in a name?

Brian and I got our marriage license last Friday.  It was a big deal and not all at the same time.

The courthouse closed at 4 that day, so we each took off work early and met there super early in case there was a crazy line.  This wedding planning madness has trained me to plan for, well, madness.

I got there way early, earlier than Brian, and ended up getting super anxious just because I could.

Did he get away from work when he’d planned to?

Had he gotten in a car accident?

Why wasn’t he answering his phone?

Naturally, everything was fine except for in my head.

So he got there, and we walked into the courthouse hand-in-hand. (It had taken all my willpower not to take out my anxiety on him, because I did not want to pick a fight right before going in and getting a piece of paper that proves we want to love each other for the rest of our lives……you know, priorities.)  There was no line.  The paperwork was easy.  The lady made us raise our right hands and asked us if everything on the paperwork was true.  The way she phrased it made us both say “I do” at the same time and we looked at each other and had a moment.  I giggled.

The whole process was pretty quick and easy and we left feeling special and lovey-dovey, but as we left with our paperwork in hand, I felt a pang of….sadness.

There was a spot on the paperwork where each of us could denote if and how we wanted our names changed.  I have given this issue a lot of thought, and I think I finally came to the best arrangement for me and for the two of us, although I must admit, I still have misgivings.

I decided, we decided, that I would take Brian’s last name as my own, and I am replacing my current middle name with my maiden name.

Lots of factors went into making this decision.  I don’t want to “give up” my own last name because it’s been connected to my identity and how I exist in the world.  It’s German, it’s amazing, and I love it.  Brian’s last name is…..pretty freaking fantastic, for those of you who know us in the real world.  It’s cooler than my last name, and it sounds amazing as my own last name.  Like, I could be a rapper it’s so cool.

I love the concept of hyphenating, and I also like the concept of creating a whole new last name for two people getting married.  Those ideas, in a perfect world, seem the most egalitarian to me.  Buuut….we just didn’t like either of these options for us, with these particular last names.  As for hyphenating, our last names end with the same sound and it sounded weird.  As for creating a new name…..we just couldn’t bring ourselves to chop Brian’s awesome last name in half with mine.  Trust me, it’s just too good.

We thought about just keeping our own last names and not changing anything.  That’s still an option, but I know I’ll want to have the same last name as my children, and having an in-common family name just makes sense to us.

As you all know, I really have a problem with blindly following traditions just because, which is why all these options were considered and lamented over.  In no way was I going to take my husband’s last name without considering all my options first.  And my birth name will still get that spot on legal forms…and in my heart.

So.  I’m going to honor this sadness….It’ll be weird to introduce myself with a new last name.  My therapy services will be advertised under a different name….my new business cards are going to make me do double takes.

I wonder how long it’ll take me to get my new signature right?

All of those thoughts come with pangs of sadness….and some excitement too.

Crabs Don’t Burn

Brian is in the kitchen and I am watching TV.

It’s evening, and Brian is making his lunch for the next day.  To do this, he’s gotta toast bread because we freeze our bread because we’re only two people and we can’t eat that much bread before it molds.  This is important, people.

Me: …Is something burning?

Brian: No….my genitals.

Me: …what?!

Brian:  My genitals are burning for you.

I look at him, unamused.

Brian:  Because I have chlamydia.  Chlamydia can do that, right?

I roll my eyes.

Brian:  …or crabs?

Me:  Crabs don’t burn!

Brian:  Well, I have chlamydia crabs.  My love burns so bad that even my crabs have chlamydia!

He stands proudly.

Brian:  And I’m willing to share that with you.  For the rest of my life!  Only 72 more days!

He then raises his arms, opening and closing his hands like crab claws, and moves his head from side to side, Egyptian style.

—-

Is it too late for me to back out?

And don’t ask how I know crabs don’t burn.

The Big Online Wedding Reveal

The day has come, Psychos, and I just had to change my pants because I am so excited!

Thank you, THANK YOU to everyone who expressed interest in becoming a part of Shirtless Ryan Gosling’s and my special online day!  Y’all make me feel special and loved…even more so than Ryan does, which is pretty hard to beat because his photoshopped abs are out of this world.

Now, I’m sure you’re all changing your pants as you read this because you’re dying to know who made the cut.

Well, I’m in the business of making people feel better, and so there’s no way I’d deny anyone the pleasure of taking part in two sexy souls becoming one unstoppable love factory.

Which means…all of you beautiful people who sent me applications in the form of prose, pictures, and babies covered in bacon…y’all win!

The following are everyone’s entries for roles in the wedding party…when the word party is used as loosely as possible.

Matron of Honor – Emily from The Waiting

If you missed her post from yesterday, I highly recommend you go back and read it.  Because of her, my inhibitions have been dangerously lowered by cardboard flavored wine and I am armed with copious amounts of mace.  Look out, Rachel McAdams! (only I love you and kinda want to be you…so just be nice to me and pretend to rub your eyes while you roll around the ground in agony.)

Officiant – Jen and Tonic

I would like to nominate myself as the officiant. I would write fat rhymes for the wedding:

We’ve gathered here today to celebrate this crazy couple,
While they’re still in love, and photograph well because their bodies are supple.
She wants nothing more than to be his spouse,
Especially after she learned he owned a country house.
For better or worse, he wants to be her mate,
Or until her friend takes him up on the offer for a date.
It’s time to get this show on the road,
So they can finally hump as man and wife in their humble abode.

Bouquet Toss Maniac – Quirky Chrissy

Not only did Chrissy write her own post about joining the Shirtless family, but she also sent me photographic evidence as to why she’s a maniac, maniac…on the floor.

She will cut you.

She will cut you.

Bouquet Toss Girl – mysweatyshirt

Sweaty, you’ll have to duke it out with Chrissy.  May the best crazy person win!

Crazy Bridesmaid – Amb from Words Become Superfluous

I am so all over this like the bridesmaid who takes a cell phone picture of drunk cousin/uncle/baby dancing on the bar, turns it into a GIF, and charms the DJ into borrowing his equipment so that the thing can run in a continuous loop projected on the wall behind your least favourite aunt when she’s making her toast.

For my application to be your online bridesmaid, I’m sending you an early wedding present. It will help you cope with the stress of planning your online wedding and ensure that you are as radiant and well-rested on your big day as you were when you and Shirtless Ryan Gosling first met. I give you … 

 

The Gos-line. 

 

Yes, this is really a thing that is really happening. Now Ryan can talk to you during the difficult times you are apart, and the endless days and nights between now and your super amazing online wedding will fly by! 

 

http://o.canada.com/2013/03/27/hey-girl-missing-ryan-gosling-call-the-gosline/ 

 

See you at the online bridal shower, 

 

amb 

Combination Florist/Flower Girl – Katie from Words for Worms

If you missed Katie’s post desperately vying to heal childhood trauma by becoming my florist slash flower girl, better go take a looksee.

Plus, she’s adorable:

Can’t wait to see you coming down the aisle!

Wedding Planner – Speaker7

Okay–get ready for your socks to be knocked off and flung into the stratosphere. This is why I am the only wedding planner you should have.

 

First look at this cake I scored:

Can you taste the rainbow? I sure can.

Can you taste the rainbow? I sure can.

 

Then I found the perfect bride/groom outfit combo:

Do you see how it matches the cake?!?

Do you see how it matches the cake?!?

 

That’s all you need, yes? 

 

Nailed it.

 

Your wedding planner,

Speaker7

Indeed, you nailed it.  I want that cake in my mouth.  And it’s like those leotards were…meant to fit together.

Photographer – Sara from Laments and Lullabies


I want to take pictures at your wedding because I have an excuse to get drunk in heels. That’s right, I’ll get myself fancy for your wedding time with RG. 

It would please me greatly to snap pictures of drunk babies. 

It would please me greatly to snap pics of you being hilarious and sexy at the same time. 

I want to touch Shirtless RG on the pecs. 

Sorry about that last bit. Just slipped out. 

I can make gifs. No wedding is complete without gifs. 

Will work for beer and the opportunity to touch pecs. 

 

Dammit. 

 

Sincerely, 

Saradraws of Laments and lullabies. 

Touch him and die.  Waiting for some gifs!

The B-list friend – The Cutter

I’d like to be the B-List friend who you didn’t want to invite, but also didn’t want to offend, and you figured I “wouldn’t show up anyway.” And so I get placed at the oddball table in the back corner.

The Narrator – El Guapo

I’d like the role of narrator (or soundman) for the crew fiming this as an episode of the reality show “Don’t you wish you were having this much fun???”

Rapping Granny – calahan

I want to be the rapping granny that entertains at the reception party.

(in response) The Waiting – You will be paid in meatballs. That OK?

Not those Swedish ones, though. As an elderly person, I am slightly racist and the Swedes are scum.

Drunk Ex-Girlfriend – Pixie Girl

Love the idea but I wanted to marry Ryan Gosling! Is there another non-shirtless option available, and also so that I can still stay married to my husband?

Also, I would make an awesome therapist, but I fear I’d lead to your divorce so I can get my paws on Ryan. So perhaps I’d be better as a drunk ex-girlfriend-turned-co-worker who would use the mike-plus-knife opportunity to keep everyone hostage until they hear her drunken story?

Under no circumstances can you have Ryan, with or without his shirt.  If I suspect foul play, you’re out. 

Sexy Maid – renxkyoko

I want to cosplay and be the sexy maid in uniform at the wedding reception.

I hope you plan to bus the tables!  I plan to drop my fork…a lot.

Body Painter – TGVA

I would like to be the fashionista dictator and painter of the bride. Seeing how the man to be is shirtless, the bride will also be shirtless. Please don’t get all upset or offended as the bride to be will sport body paint!!! Some lovely lines on the lovely lines with an artistic flair thanks to ME! . hmmmm????

Mega points for creativity.  My boobs really need to be made into fine art.

Drunk Wedding-hater – nevercontrary

I dislike being in weddings so I would like to get drunk on my favorite drink crown and attend this wedding. I will be sitting in the back wearing black and throwing popcorn.

Only if I can catch some popcorn in my mouth.

Baker – Melissa

I see you don’t have a baker… so I nominate myself as your official online-wedding-baker. Will and Kate cake ain’t got nothin’ on this shiz… because it’s cupcakes frosted in dreams, wishes, and baby tears. Too much? Fine, chocolate is good too.

Let me know if I can link to you…because I want this cake in my mouth yesterday.

Wedding Favors – Last, but oh so not least…Le Clown has offered up some extremely sexy wedding favors for y’all.

I am offering my candidacy as the official virtual party favors for Ryan and Lyssa’s wedding. Why?
1. Ryan is Canadian—so is Le Clown;
2. Ryan is magnificently™ hot—so is Le Clown;
3. Ryan has a six pack—so does Le Clown’s naked figurine (not to be confused with the real Le Clown who sports the one-ab™);
4. Le Clown has a crush on Ryan—but that is a whole other story;
5. Le Clown is French Canadian—therefore the ambassador of love;
6. [Insert something about Lyssa];
7. Le Clown believes in self-promotion—please follow my blog.
8. Le Clown is eco-sensitive—you don’t have to print this e-party favor if you care about mother Earth.
9. Fuck you, Eva Mendes.

Fun for a girl or a boy!

Fun for a girl or a boy!

6.  Fuck you.

9. I couldn’t agree more.

——-

And that, my Psychos, is the wedding party!

This is better than eloping!

I have the best online Matron of Honor evar

Hello my wedding-enthused Psychos!

Remember back when I announced my online engagement to Shirtless Ryan Gosling and invited everyone to take part in our online wedding festivities?!

Let's make out and stuff.

Let’s make out and stuff.

Neither do I.

Now that I have sobered up, keep your glassy, dilated-in-the-presence-of-true-love eyeballs peeled for the big reveal of which esteemed bloggers earned coveted roles in the online wedding to end all online weddings….coming tomorrow!

But first, here’s a word (or 698) from my online Matron of Honor, Emily from The Waiting.

Dearly Beloved and Psychos,

We are gathered here today to get through this little thing called life.

Wait. I am not Prince. Dammit. I am always thinking that I am Prince. I blame it on the raspberry beret I found at a second hand store. And the pills.

I was honored when Lyssa invited me to be her online matron of honor, and by “invited” I mean patted me on my head as I strong-armed my way into her wedding and insisted I AM THE MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL THE PEOPLE. I knew immediately that she was a real friend because she humored me in my ill attempts to make her wedding all about me. Me me me me MEEEEE.

But today, I suppose I have to actually do something for her as she prepares for her walk down the aisle. Come with me as I take a trip to Target – AKA the Mothership – to buy all the very necessary items both a bride and a matron of honor need to make it through the big day.

Here I am emerging from Target after my last shopping excursion

Here I am emerging from Target after my last shopping excursion

1.     Boxed Wine

Because we are classy gals who live it up in the classiest ways available, I will be bypassing Milwaukee’s Finest and purchasing the choicest box of Chardonnay available for Lyssa. We’ll shoot it back with Dixie Cups right before the ceremony. What is a wedding without inebriation? That was not a rhetorical question. Put your best punchline in the comments.

2.     A Sewing Kit

Here in Irony World, we spend three month’s salaries on a dress we will only wear once. Said dress was fashioned out of tissue paper and that gauzey spiderweb netting you see around Halloween at Dollar Tree. So I’ll be bringing along a little sewing kit to remedy any snafus that may occur prior to the ceremony. My girl Lyssa needs to look good. She will not walk down the aisle to an awaiting Shirtless Ryan Gosling with a missing sleeve.

3.     Band-Aids

Murphy’s Law is the prevailing law of wedding days. On my own wedding night, I sliced my toe open on a broken bottle of champagne and had to phone my own maid of honor to deliver us a giant box of bandages and Neosporin. I think the word you’re looking for is “sexy.” Screw something borrowed; I’ll be setting Mrs. Shirtless Gosling up with a fully-stocked first aid kit to remedy any paper cuts she may incur from rogue wedding invitations.

4.     Mace

I am anticipating a lot of jilted ex-lovers of Shirtless Ryan Gosling showing up on the day of the wedding. Therefore, I will be arming myself with a giant can of mace to show them who’s boss. Lyssa will likely already have a katana sword with her on the big day, because, y’know, LYSSA. Mace will also come in handy in case the chicken being served at the reception is a bit underseasoned. Two years in fine dining taught me how to spruce up an entree in a pinch. Lyssa is so lucky to have me.

5.     Beef Jerky

The one thing they don’t tell you before you get married is that it’s really hard to get food in your facehole on the big day. You are too busy posing for pictures, gettin’ your hair did, and pretending to care about makeup to actually eat something. So by the time the day is over and it’s time to get your groove on with your hubs (AND celebrate the fact that you can now use the term “hubs” to refer to him because we all know what a winner that term of endearment is, amiright?), your blood sugar levels have dipped so low that you barely have enough energy to extrapolate yourself out of your dress, much less make sexy time. So what better way to ensure that Lyssa will have the energy to make a man out of SRG than to fill her up with dehydrated meat throughout the day? That’s as filthy as it sounds.

May Lyssa and Shirtless Ryan Gosling have a wonderful day and lifetime filled with love and shirtlessness.

Forever and ever, Amen.

Register THIS!

It’s wedding registry time, my fellow Psychos, and this is shaping up to be tougher than I thought.

Brian and I are pretty Type A when it comes to researching what stuff we want, wanting good quality stuff for a reasonable price, and then taking good care of said stuff.

Stuff takes a long time to research, my friends.  We also realized that we should probably agree on what stuff we want…cuz marriage is all about compromise, I’m told.  In actuality, it seems to be more about yelling.  And if you’re in Bed, Bath, and Beyond, the secret is to let your partner know just how upset you are with their choices without actually yelling.  This takes some talent.  High heeled shoes and sharp, long nails tend to help.

I chose a partner who has strong opinions about stuff.  I generally thought this was a good thing; if I’d wanted a partner who didn’t have opinions, I’d have dry humped a sack of potatoes back in college.

This is really lumpy to hump… Lumpy humpies!

Turns out, it’s harder to pick stuff out when non-potato sack partner opens his mouth, but that’s what I get for picking someone incredibly awesome.

Speaking of non-potato sack partner, he and I both get upset when vendors only address me, the female, when making wedding decisions and transactions.  Not only is it sexist, but it also puts a lot of pressure on me that I don’t want.  I usually try to mitigate this by always turning to Brian when a vendor asks me a question.  And a few times I even just blurted out to a vendor that Brian really has opinions about this stuff, and so we’ll both be making the decisions, and to please address both of us thankyouverymuch.

I find it hilarious, because Brian is outwardly quiet, polite, and generally shy, but I can totally tell when he’s feeling shut out by a vendor.  I can just hear his inner voice shouting LOOK AT ME!  I AM A PERSON, TOO!  MY EYES ARE OVER HERE!  And then I place a hand nonsexually on his thigh and we get through it like the troopers we are.

I really think that these modern traditions of registering and showers and crap have evolved to become a sort of boot camp, or litmus test for marriage.  Sort of in place of pre-marital counseling.  Take our experience at Bed, Bath, and Beyond.  We went in there thinking we’d be handed those cool laser zappy guns and let loose in the store.  We figured we’d be out in an hour.  90 minutes tops.

No effing way.

They sat us down with a friendly effeminate gentleman and he took us through china patterns and serving bowls and made us sign away our future first born child (to be named Joffrey).  And the manager came over and offered us popcorn.  Were they gonna show us a propaganda film too?!

After about 2 hours in those chairs making decisions, we got up and that dude got to keep the gun, and he led us through the store, trying to sell us freaking everything.  Remember when I said we only thought it would take 90 minutes?  Remember when I blogged that one time about what happens to me when I don’t eat sooooper regularly?

I turn into Melissa the Attack Marmot

Yeah, our patience slowly but surely degraded.

I was so hungry.  So weak.  Getting light headed.  But I just wanted to get this OVER WITH.  Maybe we’re almost done……no?  Towels now?  What fucking color?  What does Brian think?  Bedding?  I’d love to go to bed, thank you.  A cheese grater?  ONLY IF YOU GIVE ME SOME CHEESE FIRST!

Finally, shortly after our friendly gentleman went to take HIS break, I couldn’t take it anymore.  Brian and I had started to fight about the merits of suction of different vacuum cleaners, and I wanted to take that Dyson and suck his face right off.  Instead of doing that, I turned to the nice replacement saleslady and kindly asked her if we could come back another day.  She said sure and then ran away before I ate her.  Brian was relieved.

It was 5pm.  We had been there since just before noon.  All I had eaten that day was a bowl of cereal.  Miraculously, no one had to die.

I think we passed the test.  I gave Brian the signal not to talk to me until after I had fully engulfed a Five Guys burger and then we made up, debriefed, talked about what mistakes were made, and then made plans to set fire to the store first thing in the morning.

At the moment, we’re still struggling to find plates and cups and stuff that we both like.  Aaaand as I just reread that last sentence, so I now have to add (and close with): #firstworldproblems

It’s all in the [shirtless] family

Psychos!

Go read Quirky Chrissy’s post making her case for why she should be allowed to fight to the death for the right to walk away from my online wedding to Shirtless Ryan Gosling with my bouquet in her bloodied hands.

That was an awesome sentence I just typed up there.

I didn’t even realize, but in this post Chrissy informed me that, if her current beau Shirtless Jesse Metcalf ever grows a pair and puts a ring on it [her], we’ll be Shirtless in-laws!  I can’t WAIT for the family reunions.

(You should click for the hilariously shoddy photoshopping if for nothing else.  It’s even funnier if you’re drunk first.)

Hello, Gorgeous!

My photographer said that the 40s could be summed up with an “Oh, my!” and a skirt twirl.

…we’ll see if that comes through in the photos.

*I am wolf-whistling at myself as I look at this*
Thems victory post-war birthing hips.

Thems victory post-war birthing hips.

Basically, I was born in the wrong decade.  My hips belong in the 40s and 50s and my feminist brain belongs in the 60s and 70s.  And I think I lost my ovary in the Great War.

Anyone call for…..a pilot?!

This is like the best picture ever.  Brian’s inner child was squealing with joy like a greased pig who just outran Christmas dinner.  That, and he looks damn sexy.  Coolest part: there was no wind while this pic was taken.  Whaaaat.

I look forward to the professional images, because if we look this amazing on my iphone, we’re going to look like frickin old movie stars and shit.

Best part for me: I think I ended up looking a lot like my grandma.  Must unearth a picture of her for comparison.

Don’t forget, Psychos!  Send me emails to tell me how you’re gonna turn my online wedding to Shirtless Ryan Gosling into a drunken love circus!  I *just* found out he’s Canadian – what the what?!  I didn’t know they made beefcakes that beefy.   Deadline is March 31st.

Ride the healing train to sexytown

Good news, psychos.

I wrote a post for The Official How To Blog when I was feeling rather saucy.  I’ve since completely forgotten what I wrote, and therefore I take no responsibility.

People tell me the post is about how to find a therapist who won’t bend you over his knee and give you firm, swift swats to the rump in an attempt to re-create childhood trauma.  My hope is that you find this post mildly useful and a moderately good substitute for sobbing into your mint chocolate chip.  Ride the healing train here.

In other news, I’m sure you’ve all already read this compelling article about how Ryan Gosling is taking a break from acting.  I know, I know…I too was ready to start looking for a non-crazy therapist and had even clicked on my own how-to guest post before I began to read between the lines……the reason he’s taking a break from acting is because he’ll be too busy getting online married to me and being my online shirtless husband!!

The proof is in what he doesn’t say:

“I’ve been doing (acting) it too much. [And I need to focus on doing Lyssapants instead.]   I think it’s good for me to take a break and reassess [Lyssa’s hot bod] why I’m doing it [because she’s amazingly hot] and how I’m doing it [long and hard]. And I think this [online marrying the pants off her] is probably a good way to learn about that. I need a break from myself as much as I imagine the audience does [so that Lyssa can have my photoshopped abs all to herself].”

And the world makes sense again.

You’re Invited…to an online wedding!

Hello my Psychos!

As you all may or may not know…..*dramatic pause*…..I am getting married.

(And by know, I mean you’ve all vomited every time you’ve seen the words “wedding” or “love” or “matrimonial discharge” on my blog in the past 6 months.  I’m sorry…that you all have such weak stomachs.)

At some point in this journey, Emily from The Waiting very bitchily declared herself my online bridesmaid, and I said she could gladly have the honor as long as I got the naming rights to her next child.  I can’t wait to meet Sylvester P. Asskicker and give him/her ve’s first dangerous sharp object.

But Melissa, you’re thinking, What does the “p” stand for?

You ready for this jelly?

…Pootytang.

You’re welcome, little bundle of sex appeal that has yet to exist!

But I digress.  Emily’s bitchiness, besides adding kindling to the fiery rage within my heart, also gave me a really awesome idea.

Why should the joy associated with my upcoming nuptials be limited to those savory characters I know in the fleshy realm?  If Emily can be my online bridesmaid, then why not have a whole online bridal party…bachelorette party…online wedding ceremony complete with a hunky online husband-to-be?!

Why not INDEED.

First things first- I needs me someone to online marry!  Now, let me be clear: while no one, and I mean no one, could replace the real-life manly cuteness that is my Brian Boyman…I still get to choose me an online fiance who ignites the burning in my loins and makes my ovary do flips.  Without a second thought, the perfect man for this online job goes to……..

Hey, Wife

Hey, Wife

…Shirtless Ryan Gosling!

I know, we’re so excited!  We can’t wait to start our online life together!

Now I’ve stopped gushing for the moment, this is where y’all come in, y’all.  I need me some imaginary people online bloggers to help me escape the hell of planning a wedding celebrate the most amazing time in my life!

Emily already butted into my bubble of joy, and for that, she’s getting promoted – Girl, you’re now officially my online Matron of Honor!   Now I need all my Psychos (yes, you….and all the voices inside your head) to fight to the death to help me make this online wedding a non-reality!

Basically, we’re gonna have an online event (in the form of a blog post or posts) for every wedding event that takes place in the real world – bridal shower, bachelorette party, rehearsal dinner, the wedding itself – and everyone who earns a role will get to contribute.

Here’s how to become a part of the action:

1. State in a comment two things: who you’re nominating (yourself or someone else), and for which role from the below list.

2. The person who is nominated must draft a well thought out (or drunkenly typed) answer to the question or prompt posed that corresponds to your chosen role, and email it to me at psychobabblepants@gmail.com by March 31st 11:59pm PST

3. My matron of honor and I will judge the entries, and the winners will be posted at some date after March 31st when I decide to sober up.

4. Feel free to campaign for yourself via a post on your own blog.  I’ll also accept bribes in the form of chocolate, human babies, and human babies covered in chocolate.  When shipping, please overnight them.  I hate spoiled babies.

5. Also feel free to “vote” for your fellow bloggers by responding to their comment declarations with a LIKE or a boob squeeze.

Without further ado….Lyssa’s Bridal Party:

1. Bridesmaids – Shirtless Ryan Gosling has just made a pass at you and now it’s time for your speech. What do you do?
2. Officiant – Write an intro to the most beautiful wedding ceremony ever.
3. Mother of the Bride – You’re planning the bridal shower.  What theme do you choose and why?
4. Mother in Law – The china pattern at the wedding doesn’t match your new lace skivvies.  What do you do about it?
5. Wedding Planner – Lyssa and Shirtless Ryan Gosling has asked you to find them a dozen flying monkeys to act as ushers. Go.
6. Drunk Cousin/Uncle/Baby – You have stolen the cake knife and the DJ’s mic.  What happens next?
7. Best Man – You realize that one of the bridesmaids is your ex meth dealer…and your ex.  Do you hit that?
8. Caterer – What delicious meal do you have planned for this special night?
9. Florist – Lyssa and Shirtless Ryan Gosling have requested a floral jungle theme.  Describe what you’ve created.
10. Photographer – What’s your style of photography?  Describe how you would capture our raw sexual energy on film.
11. Bartender – The drunk cousin/uncle/baby starts dancing on the bar and demands another scotch and soda. What do you do?
12. DJ – You’re playing the best dance music evar – which jams do you play?
13. Marriage Therapist – How would you know when Lyssa and Shirtless Ryan Gosling are ready to publicly declare their eternal love?

 

…don’t see a role you like??  Make one up!!

You can also tell me, in lieu of the above prompts, how you plan to ensure the safety of Shirtless Ryan Gosling and me in the event of a zombie outbreak, should one develop during the course of merriment and festivity-making.

Squee,

Mrs. Shirtless Ryan Gosling-to-be

These pictures pretty much sum up our relationship

“I want you to run after her, Brian! Like you’re the bear and she’s the honey!”

I’m pretty sure this is when the blood was drawn. See: face.

Gonna vom-

I can fly!

Too cute for words.