But right now, I’m waiting for Girlie and Co. to pick me up for a night of drinking and merriment with Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers, so y’all will just have to wait (or figure it out if you’re in the NWI).

Y’all remember the Megan Meier nightmare, yes? Today, GMA had on the young woman who dealt the proverbial final blow to Megan: Lookit. Didn’t watch it live of course, but I caught the discussion over on Jezebel, like I do. And one of my fellow Jezzes (that’s what we call ourselves) brought up the point that Ashley, now that she can scarcely leave her own house because of death threats and has actually attempted suicide herself as a result of the backlash, is at 19 but a child herself and that perhaps life should go on for Ms. Grills.

(Let me point out that for the sake of brevity, I’m completely oversimplifying what she said; my fellow Jez did NOT condone what Ashley did. Rather, as someone who was deeply ill herself at that age, she was empathizing with being in such a dark place and that much of the time, 19 year-olds don’t know what the hell they’re doing.)

My armchair assessment after watching the interview was that yeah, Ashley’s life probably WAS shitty prior to Megan; if I had to wager a guess, she comes from poor-to-modest means and was bullied for it and all manner of crap. Then when uber-cunt Lori Drew hired her, she got access to something, be it a lifestyle (the Drews DID have money at one point) or a mother figure, that she wanted and thus would do anything to keep being a part of it. I’m sure there was all kinds of self-hatred going on there, too; you can see that just looking at her. The difference, however, at least to me, is that my fellow Jez turned her pain and self-hatred inward, hurting herself primarily and her family secondarily. Ashley didn’t.

I said it over there, and I’ll say it here: Maybe she doesn’t deserve to be harangued by the rest of the world for the rest of her life, because having to live with what she did is punishment enough. But it’s certainly a punishment well-deserved.

Someone can stick THAT up their ass real quick. Good Christ.

(A summary of the Bower-Mollin wedding)

So, the wedding to end all weddings, right? I don’t even know where to start other than to say it truly was a fantastic night, full of joy and love, great friends, designer couture and all the free booze you could handle (as long as the bartenders were at their posts—whut up with dat, Ben-ha-meen? Like, every time the band went on break, so did the barkeeps.) Ben wore the hell out of his ascot, suit and silverish pimp shoes, of course, but Ann?

How ‘bout I just show you:


Ok, she doesn’t have a head in this shot,
but you had to see the back of the gown first
to get just how gorgeous it was. (Standing
next to her is her son, Lathan, who cut quite
a dashing figure in his mini-tux.)

Not good enough? Then how ‘bout this:


This was taken after mucho drinkage,
and she STILL looks unbelievable.
I, on the other hand, had started wilting
at that point.

Lessee, what else? Oooo! Here’s a cool shot of the Hava Nagila that killed my feet and knees:


Ben’s momma and pop sang it.


My seester and I as she took a break from
all that shooting (and man, did she get some
awesome shots.) (And if you’re thinking we
don’t look that much alike, you’re correct. I
got all the Eastern European features, while she
got the pretty skin that tans.)


Thas righ, Reality TV sneetchez! That most certainly
IS Steven Rosengard of Project Runway Cycle 4.
That’s who designed Ann’s incredible dress and day-before
wedding ensemble, which was equally sharp. (The hot chick
is Girlie, who accompanied me.)


Joe Winters and me. Don’t he clean up nice?


After Girlie and I split the reception, our presence
was requested at a local benefit at the Hobar
American Legion, where we ran into this cat,
the infamous Randy Anderson ("Buck Daddy”
to his musical fans). Evidently Randy doesn’t
remember ever seeing me without my specs,
because he kept marveling at my eyes the whole time.

And so as not to give you the impression that the wedding was all about me even though I acted like it with all that prep and planning my outfit, here’s one of my favorite moments of the night:


Right after the three of them walked out to
the chorus of “Come Sail Away” by Styx, Ben
yanked Lathan up and swung him around.

My other favorite moment was in the video of the wedding: The moment the judge told Ben to kiss his bride, the sheer elation on their faces was proof enough that they’re going to be a couple for the ages. You don’t see love like that often, and it’s always so breathtaking to see.

And then I started doing a little jig at the bar.