... you see, what we MEANT to do was to get dressed and go see some shitty movie and eat some nice shitty expensive dinner at some upper class yuppie resturaunt and then go home and fuck our brains out and then pass out on our beds happy and content.
What REALLY happened was we TRIED to go to the movies, got there way too late, went to Target, bought new clothes, new lingerie, and then drove down to the Elephant Bar where some toothless crazy guy whom we decided to call "Toothless Joe" just up and bought us a shitload of free drinks (as long as we listened to his frightening theories about how the Jews run the media and about how salt keeps people's sex-drives down, therefore keeping the population in check) and then we randonly decided to suprise the fuck out of people and go to the Maple Room where we saw my brother and drank a lot (and sang the absolute WORST EVER version of Tenacious D's "Wonderboy" that was so incredibly bad that I am so-o-o-o glad that no one I know was there to witness) and then we drove home, giddy and giggling, the whole way there.
And somehow we made nana believe that we weren't toodrunk, then we went home. And here we are. Taa-daa!!!
(note the only existing picture of the night's events BEFORE the atrocious singing of Wonderboy)
One year married. That's fucking awesome!