Come on...

Like you were really expecting anything out of me. 27 hours from right now, I should be on the beach with a frosty beverage in my hand, not worrying about commutes, or internets, or pants for the next ten days.

Barring some sort of bizarre accident involving a manatee, a rickshaw, and an eight year old named Hector who teaches me to love again (?), The FYC will return the week after Thanksgiving, with a thorough recap of all hijinks which will inevitably ensue on the drunken white beaches of Tulum, Mexico.

Also, I will be married, and, just to shake things up, The Lady Friend will be a robot.

Adios, amigos.

[have a great two weeks, earth. enjoy the leftovers.]

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Congrats! I just got back from my own honeymoon. If you guys are doing a "destination" wedding, you're very very smart. Wedding planning blows.
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"I'll be dead in the cold, cold ground before I recognize the state of Missouri."