Stanford Quad a couple of weeks ago.
Always good to be back at the Farm, although I noticed that The Thinker's fricking gone. I guess when you're thinking without pants while your bare ass chafes against that rock for all those years, it finally dawns on you how pointless it all is. And then you get up and go get a burrito
Just can't do normal wedding photos anymore. I found this position improved the airflow to my moist armpits, a usual byproduct of summer weddings when the dumbest thing you can do on a hot, sweltering day is wear a long-sleeved shirt, necktie and a wool jacket. People, if you're going to get married in June, July or brain-melting August, at least have the courtesy to make it a clothing-optional ceremony.
The significance of this wedding was that the bride was the first member of the Wedding Bet group to even get married. Ironically, the guy almost everybody picked to get married first is now our points leader with one correct guess.
He and I were the only ones from the Wedding Bet group who were able to make it to the wedding. Funny, considering how tight we were back then. But that's time and space for you.
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