As usual, the seating wound up strangely segregated. The dexter side of the aisle was hip to the lingo and the responses, while (apart from Hal) the sinister side of the church was full of silent ungodliness. The best moment of all was when the attendees were to call out "I do" in response to various pieces of Catholic dogma and what-have-you. Statement number one out of the priest is something like, "I renounce Satan and all his works, the pomps and vanity of this wicked world, and all the sinful lusts of the flesh."
This is sort of like "Have you stopped beating your wife?" I can't say "I do" and I certainly can't say, "No way, Jose, my lord and master has promised me all the vanity and fleshy sins I can eat." But what does <I>no comment</I> mean in this circumstance? What is running through the priest's and congregation's mind when the unbelievers over there <I><B>refuse to renounce Satan?</B></I>
Then there was an exquisite lunch at their homestead. Tamales made by the mother of Amy's old penpal (she of the Flat Rita or whoever the hell it was). And plenty of other fixings, including a ridiculous Amy-cake creation (supplemented by two other desserts, since one is not enough). I believe I told the story of Aaron's Hollywood Boulevard experience about three times. I had McInnis in absolute stitches. Aaron is a legend. Hopefully, we didn't annoy the relatives or the nun too much.
Then I headed home, to rest a bit and change into my duds, kiss Rebecca goodbye and head off into the wilderness. First, to pick up Richard, my date for the evening, and thence to the Avalon and <B>Destiny</B>.
And now, since he requested it, a picture of Prime and Wonder Woman from the Larpies
|Prime & Wonder Woman
The Jazz Devil gets all the ladies