Even more Before the wedding




Hear the fabulous exploits of one complete reject



He being in preparation for the coming wedding rehersal dinner, He felt that He should sit right down and write a bit, so as not to completely cop out on the originally intended daily Gism updates. Sure, these updates ain't going to be up daily, but at least they were written daily.

So here He sits, in the bowels of a row home on Long Island, slowly contemplating the horrible fate that awaits him. Tomorrow is the wedding, and with it comes a near endless procession of embarassing moments at the hands of well-meaning relatives. He has never really felt at ease with this end of the family. He has also lost his East coast legs, and now feels himself wobbling back and forth upon the shakey ground of New York. Perhaps it is His strange sense of style, something most on the Eastern seaboard would consider "gay." Of course, most of those that would consider it as such are wearing bermuda shorts, old Nikes, and Big Johnson Clam Shuckers T-Shirts.

And so He sits, awaiting his fate. Family gatherings are the bane of Hs existence. Very few, if any, have ever offered entertainment. At least now He can imbibe in the ritualistic drinking of the wine, and thus, lubricate the social aspects of the evening's festivities.

And still, His parents are overbearing. Kind hearted and well meaning, but extremely bossy. Even now they becon him upstairs to inspect his attire before they venture out. He is sure that He will not be allowed to wear his Sergant Pepper jacket.



















































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