It's Matt McClane here, wedding expert, travel photographer and jackhammer mechanic. Sure enough, you guessed it—I run this blog, and while you are here reading it, you're totally my bitch.
That's right, readers, you guys are reading this right now because you have no choice. I put this awesome addictive chemical into the HTML code of this thing, so now every time you click the link to my blog, you have the sudden urge to both read every single thing I write and also somehow put my blog in a syringe and shoot it up into your arm.
Don't ask me how you're supposed to do this! I don't have all the answers! You'll have to get creative and do what you've gotta do to satisfy your burning addiction.
At any rate, we're not here to talk about written and verbal narcotics, people! Today I'll be showing you the amazing weekend that I shared with some good friends—at the wedding of one of the greatest human beings and best friends I've ever known in my entire life, Mark Bernard.
As you read this, Mark Bernard is a married man. Also, he happens to be married to another one of the coolest people on the entire face of the planet. How these two people, who are so cosmically cool, got together is a mystery of science and also faith. The scientists are working on the answers as we speak... but don't count on any results anytime soon. Their funding is short, their staff is sparse, and it's just not easy to unlock the mysteries of love in some giant aluminum-can-looking laboratory. No, my friends, I discovered those mysteries a long time ago: in the back of the Food Lion shopping center behind the trash dumpster. That's where it all happens.
Anyway, back to the point... somehow... Words seriously cannot describe how happy I am for these two wonderful people, and to be a part of their ceremony was nothing short of an honor.
Newlyweds: thank you for letting me be a part of your lives!!! The weekend of August 9th was one of the happiest times of my life, and being able to share so much joy, hilarity and love has put a smile on my face ever since. All my friends that were there: You guys left me with enough inspiration and comedy to literally stop time with my mind.
You probably didn't even know it, but while you were reading this blog... I stopped time, came over to your house, ate some of your leftover hamburger helper, took a few DVDs, took a giant crap in your master bathroom and finished off the rest of your Tequila. Also: you know that weird, foul smell in your living room? I also placed a half-drank carton of whole milk over in the corner behind your surround sound speaker. Last month.
Anyway, sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. Moving on...
I had my camera with me the entire time in the treacherous city of Rock Hill, South Carolina, but I always forget to whip it out at the important times. So instead of a bunch of important pictures, I'll share with you the "behind-the-scenes" ones from the weekend of August 9th, 2008.
Experience the genius by scrolling on down. And believe—with all your heart and soul—that Rock Hill, SC could be simultaneously the most dangerous place to live and also the boring-est. Thank God for our Friday the 13th boxed set. It helped us get through the hard times and long nights.
Jym Davis, Best Man Greg Simpson, the guy who runs this blog, Thom Maurer and the honorable Chris McAdoo, Esquire. We stayed drunk through the entire ceremony, but if you tell Mark and Hope, I'll kill you with a meat plow.
One of the finer things in life: Mr. Waffle. This was of major interest to me, since (as you all know) I'm always in the middle of a PASSIONATE love affair with the Waffle House. Could "Mr. Waffle" be the Waffle House's arch nemesis? Would they play each other in the Waffle Super Bowl? Are they actually the same person... much like (((spoiler alert))) Brad Pitt and Edward Norton in Fight Club? I don't know... it's my job to just get the conversation going.
Yeah, that's right. I was the official "Guest of the Day" at the Hilton Garden Plaza Inn Hotel Place on Mark's wedding day. When I saw my name on the sign, I grabbed Mark and forced him to take this picture with me. We later had a threesome with the sign.
"What does this 'guest of the day' stuff mean?" you may asking yourself. Well, in short, it means that I'm apparently an official sponsor of the USA Olympic Team. Also: I got a nice gift bag with some Skittles, a little bag of popcorn, two bottles of water and a road map of Charlotte, North Carolina.
Believe it. In my heart... I'll ALWAYS be the guest of the day at the Hilton in Rock Hill, SC. Always. I'll also always be the "2008 Official Sponsor of USA Olympic Team."
Is this just a really small guitar, or is McAdoo one seriously huge sumbitch? After he hit puberty in his mid-20's, I started calling him, "GIGANTOR," which cleverly alludes to him being a really big person with a small guitar. Not anything else. However...that didn't stop him from shredding up that hotel room like Twisted Sister lead guitarist Jay Jay French.
Greg Simpson: diplomat, philanthropist and cage fighter.
You see that? You can't buy that kind of love in a catalog. No, no, you have to find it by using a very thorough and dependable online dating service. It brought us together, and now we'll be happy for eternity. And beyond.
I could start typing right here about my VERY VERY FAVORITE part of Rock Hill, SC—THE SLAMMER— but if I do, I'll never stop. I'll leave you with this image... and this Web site.
COOLEST. BRIDE. EVER.
Jym and Mark hooked up this awesome brainwashing machine in the back of the room, just before the wedding. Their first guinea pig? You guessed it: Greg Simpson. During the entire ceremony, Greg was led to believe that he's actually Jon Voight's character in Anaconda. A few times during Mark & Hope's reading of the vows, Greg actually shouted out, "THIS RIVER CAN KILL YOU IN A THOUSAN' WAYS! MATEO! 'ETS CUT 'IM UP!!!"
Ah, the mysterious, old, abandoned Sagebrush restaurant behind the hotel. Never more than one car could be spotted there... yet somehow, in some dark capacity... they were open. McAdoo and I were very wary of venturing too close. Also: We saw like 12 werewolves having an orgy in there one night. Okay, so maybe not 12. But more than a few.
The first of Rock Hill, SC's three known bars. This place—called "Scandal's" is apparently THE hip place to rock out in Rock Hill. What's interesting here is the name "Scandal's" is actually spelled with an apostrophe. Who IS this mysterious "Scandal" and what does he or she have to do with rocking out in Rock Hill? How did he or she start this hip new club? Is anybody even listening to me out there? Scandal, if you're reading this: I want answers.
"The Money" is Rock Hill, SC's second awesome bar... but maybe the first coolest. Apparently these guys have to pay a membership due to party inside that lovely gray-brick building. Unless you can afford $1.00 a month, I'd find somewhere else to rock out. That's right. $1.00. I can't make this stuff up, people.
It might be hard to see this, but if you'll take note and look close, you'll see one of my favorite things about Rock Hill. In Rock Hill, you can literally go get your teeth cleaned, get a cavity filled or get your crown fixed at the Rock Hill Family Dentistry... and then literally walk a few yards to the strip club, to show off your new grill to the topless ladies of "Emerson's."
Side note: This strip club is literally right on the main strip of the town. You pass a McDonald's, a grocery store, and then POW... Emerson's. The neon sign on the side of the building lets you know you're about to see some boobs... because it's in neon pink. Bright neon pink. Next to the Dentist's office.
Some call it "the mess to clean up the morning after." We call it "breakfast." I don't know who the pussy is who left all that beer in that Miller High Life bottle... but that's alcohol abuse, and it's punishable by up to 20 punches in the groin.
"Wha? You talkin' to me?"
This is a picture of the Hilton Garden Plaza Inn Hotel Place where we stayed the whole time. If you saw what a terrifying place Rock Hill, SC is, you'd stay in there too. According to THE SLAMMER, Rock Hill is one of the most dangerous places in the entire world. Poisonous snakes around every corner... and tons of people who engage in senseless bank fraud and tax evasion. Do NOT get caught on the streets alone at night, bud.
Jym whips out his patented Boris Karloff impression. All I'm saying is... if Bella Lugosi is around, you'd better not attempt that one, man. Lugosi has no patience for Karloff jokes. Jym seriously has a death wish or something. Lugosi could have sprang out from behind a bush at any time during our stay at the Hilton Garden Plaza Inn Hotel Place.
Are you Sarah Connor? Come with us if you want to live.
No caption needed. This sums it all up.
Ah, the adorable Stacey. One of the bride's maids of honor and also world-renowned numchucks expert. There's also one of my many robot clones in that picture as well. While this picture was being taken, I was actually over at Emerson's, enjoying some late afternoon delight.
Seriously, though: Stacey, Ben, Nicole, McClane and Nate—the coolest people from California I know, and also my long-lost friends. I miss you guys!
The wonderful parents of the groom, and when you say it like this, it's pretty awesome: Linda, Mark, Hope and Fred Bernard. That's them. The Bernards 4 life. Man, what a great photo!
The McAdoo couple from hell: When Chris and Robyn touch their rings together and say the magic words, they combine to form the world's most powerful robot ever: GOBOTRON!!! We never really get to see them fight monsters, though, since all their fights happen up in Canada.
Aaaannnddd... there we go.
Well, it's been fun sharing these pictures with you, readers. If these pictures haven't convinced you that I had an amazing weekend, I don't know what will. You're going to have to trust me on this one, I guess.
Leave me some comments and good luck trying to inject the blog into your forearm. Before you try to stick it, be sure to wrap a rubber band or something around your arm to make your veins pop out really far. That'll totally help.
When you feel that warm, relaxing, refreshing sensation of my blog flowing through your veins and into your crotch... you won't be able to quit.
Have a lovely day and an even better week!
-McClane
5 Comments:
So this was the best thing ever. But don't leave out zombie night, where we drove around rock hill for a couple of hours to find...nothing...except flesh eating, crazy assed zombies. Also, there was a nice couple walking into a restaurant. A F***ing zombie restaurant.
Anyway, this is also the weekend where I got my Friday the 13th cherry popped, as the kids say. Good times had by all...by all zombies.
Also, awesome, beautiful wedding. Now it's time to get those kids down to TN...
sincerely,
the man they call the Flash in the 50 yard dash,
Walter Payton
the san fransisco 49'ers were playing a team who's name has been lost to the sands of time. a man by the name of ronnie lott was involved in a multi-player pile-up from hell. amongst the carnage he rose to reveal a mangled pinkie finger. he was snapped like a twig, with blood pouring from a gash that rusulted from the bone poking thru the skin. he went to the sidelines and the team doctors immediatly made a phone call to the local hospital so mr. lott could have surgery to repair his mangled finger. mr. lott said, "no. cut it off." macadoo, i see your football reference and raise you a dollar son!
FOOTBALL IS HERE!!!!
awsome wedding pics matt. plus i can guarantee you it was bernard who left the half-drunk bottle of high life.--tf
Believe it or no, we old farts tho't that weekend was, well, we are still laughing off our asses. Can't begin to compile the stories but one of the best was when I ran into the bride's dressing room to take a couple of excedrin. I looked around, saw a huge Taco Bell cup and was shocked when I washed those pills down with a huge swig of straight Smirnoff. After my throat stopped bleeding from that jet fuel the warm fuzzy feeling began at the upper regions and slowly spread to the netherregions. Then my BEST friends on the green side of the head table sent over to me, via dj kevin porter aka butt nugget, a lovely flask full of Jack or Jim or Jose, not sure. By then the night was mine....chicken dance and all. I didn't even wince when there were 1,000s of cheap sparklers (which turned out to be skinny candles shooting 5 inch flames) aimed at the bride's skirt 6 feet in diam, or the groom's curly 10" long hair. Took it all in stride. Yep, McCain - er, I mean McClane, there are a million stories in the hills of rock on the weekend of Aug. 9. One more, tho....the father of the bride wore his jogging shorts to the City Club and changed clothes there. Escaped his mind that he didn't have underwear. Ever wear a tux going commando? So, Mark's best friends are now MY best friends from the rockin' south.
I LOVE PAM DAVIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I also love the picture of you with the Guest of the Day sign. Lookin good ;]
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