I had to write a wedding homily for class...

(This is the first part of that homily.)

David ... Ansley, this is it. Your special day. I’d like to encourage you to take a moment to let it soak in. All the hard work and the pictures and the stress let it fade for this moment, and try to enjoy yourself.

Let me begin with a short story. Once upon a time, there was a young girl and young boy who fell in love and decided to get married. This story should sound familiar because first it’s generic, and secondly because it’s your story, and it’s been a engaging story so far.

For those of you among friends and family who haven’t kept up on the courtship, David and Ansley have asked me to share a couple of stories. The story of when they first met is somewhat unique because it is also the story of their first date. The two were set up by David’s good friend Alban, who happens to be Ansley’s brother. Alban, being the loving friend and brother that he is, arranged everything, even arranged for a limo to pick them up and drive them to dinner. Although they weren’t given all the details of the evening’s itinerary, they were assured there was going to be a fancy meal and fun activities. When their ride stopped in front of Chucky Cheese’s David and Ansley were a little confused, but their driver insisted a table was reserved for them inside. Like penguins in a puppy kennel, the two, dressed to the hilt, felt a bit out of place but managed to make it work and have a good time. That somewhat awkward beginning began a steady habit of time spent together.

Everyone realized things were getting serious when David bought Ansley a special gift for her birthday. Ask David and he will tell you in thorough detail the brain-energy he put into this gift: a leather bound copy of his senior history paper about the Roosevelt Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine. Ansley says she was speechless.

It has been a unique humor-filled journey, that has led these two to this point today.

Like a Cheap Fiddle...

Last Tuesday, two members of the estate were treated to a master-course in Machiavellian Dating Tactics.

Alban and Tommy were able to get their grubbily little hands on some free symphony tickets courtesy of Alexander the Great. Next, they cleverly decided that they would find each other dates to the symphony because they are both too chicken to get their own. Tommy, upon advice of council, called Jenny Sloop and was able to convince her to be Alban's date.

The day of the symphony, Alban decided it was time to find Tommy's musical counterpart. In a fortuitous twist of fate, the gods smiled upon humanity and sent the muse of awesomeness to impregnate Alban's mind. After conception, he also called Jenny Sloop and left her a message asking her to be Tommy's date. This is where Jenny's true genius shines through.

Immediately realizing what had happened, she quickly accepted Alban's request without revealing the rest of her devious design.

The night of the symphony, as Alban and Tommy began to nervously wonder who their male companions had chosen to temporarily replace them, they began to exchange information.

Alban: " Hey Tommy, where do we need to pick my date up at?"

Tommy, revealing his choice: "We need to pick Jenny Sloop up from the dorm."

Alban, clearly confused and wondering if Tommy had discovered who he had chosen for him: "For you?"

Tommy: "No... for you."

Alban: "What?"

(Tommy and Alban turn and look at David, who says nothing but widens his eyes)

Tommy to Alban: "Did you?"

Alban: "Yup... did you?"

Tommy: "Yup..."

(David and Cody laugh uncontrollably in highly pitched fits)

This situation reveals a few things, but most importantly it sheds light upon the obvious quality of Jenny Sloop. First, it appears that both Tommy and Alban may have suppressed feelings for her, which explains why they both quickly accepted her as the first choice for their male counterparts. Second, it appears that David has a ridiculous laugh. Third, and most importantly, it reveals the genius and quality of Jenny.

Not only was she first in the minds of two of WWU's most eligible men on campus, but she also had the mental agility to play them off of each other like cheap fiddles without skipping a beat. Speaking of Jenny Sloop, where's my cell phone...

aMused

All members of The Estate journeyed to Seattle to experience Muse live in color at the Key Arena. Nothing resounds solidarity like 20 thousand people screaming lawless lyrics with their fists in the air. The pit was about as wild as you'd expect at a legitimate rock concert mosh-pit to be – at least it looked that way from where we were sitting.

David thinks Muse is Cody's soul music because it's loud and anti-establishment. I think David could be on to something.

The performance was "off the chain," as Alban says; the musicians metaphorically brought the house down. Actually, near the end of the set, a trunk load of balloons, roughly 4 feet in diameter, printed to look like giant eyeballs, came down from the rafters. Inside the white, semi-translucent balls, red graffiti made it look like blood was splashing inside the eye's as the balls bounced across the floor audience. After the encore, a girl two seats down from me, in a religious frenzy, started screaming with all of her being ... and kept screaming .... and kept screaming ... 2 minutes, no joke. She was saying what we were all thinking.

Booger Foul

(Notice: no picture due to the graphic nature of this post.)

I'm busy making black boogers. All day long, that's what I do, I mean, that's what I'm doing. Sure I'm chopping, trimming, raking, tarping, dumping, sweeping, etc. but that's all sand in my noyster. And every evening in the shower, with the aid of a Iranian water inhalation ceremony, out come the pearls ... black and beautiful. Sometimes I wonder what boogers the other estate-members/dirty-ponchos are making this break. I'd guess

David's making sun-burn boogers – flakey, red, hard.

Cody's making book boogers – sterile.

Alban's making the same boogers George Washington made – Alban'd have to tell you what they're like, he and G-Wash are boos.

Phil's making janitorial boogers – think "vacuum-bag contents" ... in a booger.

It's the truth, and the truth isn't always pretty. But if blogs aren't willing to call it as it's played then they shouldn't be reffing – black, white, salty.

Cherry Pie

David got into Law school.

So when it came time for family dinner this week, I gave him a call from the grocery store.

David, attempting to sound bored: What?
Alban: What's your favorite dessert?
David: Cherry pie.
Alban: Ha ha ha ha. Stop joking. Nobody likes cherry pie.
Cody, simultaneously in background: What? Cherry pie? Nobody likes cherry pie!
David, deadpan: I like cherry pie.
Tommy, to Alban: Tell him to try again.
Alban, to David: Nope. Try again.
David, becoming annoyed: Seriously, I like cherry pie.
Alban: How about ice cream cake?
Cody, in background: Yes! He likes that!
David, simultaneously on phone: No, ice cream cake is gross.
Alban, to Tommy: Do you like cherry pie?
Tommy: Nobody likes cherry pie.

Later, at home.

Phil: What's this?
Alban: Cherry pie.
Phil, making a "what is that funky smell" face: Ugh. Nobody likes cherry pie.

from Wall through Hamper to Blog

There is a creature in our house,

it watches while we're sleeping.

And sometimes when we we're gone to class,

I think it might start creeping

around our beds and bathrooms

and through our dirty clothes,

but exactly who this creature is,

none of us really knows.

David thinks its friendly;

Cody thinks its not.

Alban claims "It's our neighbors cat,"

and Phil said that he caught

a piece of its genetics

in a petrie dish he grew.

He said "It is perhaps either

a monster, or a shrew."

But I am still a skeptic,

about high-tech reliance,

and about the critter in our house

being defined by science.

I think it's far too smart for that,

I think it's far too clever,

I think it's Tinky Winky (just

disguised) in tight black leather.

DMack

I recently re-received my HIST 120 Blue Book, this time with a grade: 50 out of 50. Some may say I earned 100% by accurately describing the historical significance of terms such as Thalassocracy, Thermopylae, or Thucydides, but I know better. It was the extra term.

DMack:

DMack is a term derived from a legendary American, David Mack. David, who perished in a gunfight in 2081, was especially known for being loved by the ladies. To this day, the term DMack, when used as an adjective, means, "one who is loved by many females." It can also be a verb, in which case it has a slightly different meaning. To "DMack" someone is to make them experience a QL...

There are five share-holders of the West Whitman Estate, but just four associated pairs.

1. Cody and Jacqueline
2. Phil and Abigail
3. Tommy and Tinky Winky
4. David and Alban

Nuf said.