Catastrophuck 2007!

Prologue of Events:

About five days ago, my sister Rachel (age 24) announced her intention to marry a man she has known for less than three weeks. Ever since the house has been in complete chaos to prepare for the impromptu wedding. Every time I have tried to speak to the groom, he looks at his shoes and blushes, leading me to believe that he may have some kind of mental impairment. No confirmation of this yet.

12:34~

As of this moment my father and I have yet to completely fix the deck on which my sister Rachel is about to be married. Whenever we drill in another wood screw our pet pygmy goat makes gentle braying sounds. I am very curious as to the cause of some malformation in its chest cavity, as each side seems to stick out approximately six inches, and are lopsided.

1:48~

Just had a chance to shower. The deck is still unfinished. No guests yet. Working on getting a camera.

Current count of muttered C-words in Rachel’s direction: 7

3:24~

The deck is not finished and we have run out of materials. We have decided to say “fuck it.” My father has flipped out on me for having hair that’s too long, and for throwing out a board that was rotten without letting him see the rotten side first. When he looks at Rachel he just looks like he’s going to cry and kill someone.

The camera is coming soon. My brother’s clumsy friend Zach fucked up my lap top.

3:41~

I now have my laptop downstairs on the deck. Where the fuck is my camera? God damn it!

I am referring to the area of the deck in the shade as my “Command Center.” No one else thinks this is funny. In fact, they have all gone inside. Fuck them. I’m going to doll out NATO Alphabet names to every important position at the house.

The deck is going to be called Foxtrot position, because that’s the coolest name and that’s where I am.

Rachel’s room is Omega Zeta, because she is evil.

Bryan’s room is Beta One.

My father’s room is Gamma Three.

The kitchen is Charlie Seven.

Also, anyone I have taking pictures for me is officially going to part of the “Catastrophuck Task Force” which will also be known as the “Omega Zeta Initiative.”

More to come.

3:54~

I have discovered my lap top clock is an hour ahead. I don’t know why.

The groom is curiously missing. Cross your fingers lady and gentleman. Rachel could be stood up!

3:55~

In the event that Rachel is stood up the name of this entry will be changed to “Miraculophy 2007: The Greatest Story Ever Told.”

4:08~

To phishey: I will be describing people as they come. No worries. I even intend to put up pictures (I am now shouting: WHERE IS MY GODDAMN CAMERA!)

No worries, this will be a blast no matter what happens. But I don’t think anyone from on-line is coming, even though I begged all of them too. The bastards.

(Someone just told me to shut the fuck up, because it’s not my special day)

(I flipped them off and rolled my eyes.)

4:14~

My dad’s girlfriend is looking at me wondering what I’m doing.

Our semi-retarded neighbor Spencer (age “this many” while holding up three fingers) has informed me that he just stepped on a screw. Not for the first time I am sure he has Asperger’s Syndrome.

My father’s girlfriend is asking Bryan to come help her haul equipment for the band that just pulled up. Between the three of them, I believe they may have several hundred years of guitar experience. Fuck they’re old. Bryan just looks depressed, and smirked at me while he walked in the door.

~4:23

I just had to go inside because every time the band members stood in front of the door the connection went out. They keep talking about how “nice” the waterfall looks.

~4:26

God this is depressing.

My dad’s girlfriend is giving me the stink eye for not helping carry shit. Fuck that, I’ve been working on the goddamn deck for the past three days.

~4:29

People are yelling. Someone forgot to get ice apparently.

Oh, and I still hate myself.

~4:30

Spencer just told my dad’s girlfriend that since Rachel gets to get married, he gets to marry her.

My brother’s clumsy friend Zach just picked up a napkin in my periphery.

The band members keep looking at me. I’m just staring intently at my laptop and pretending I’m doing something important.

~4:33

Spencer has just announced that even though he doesn’t get to drink diet-Pepsi right now, he will be able to when he is grown up. In the past I have had him hit my palm as hard as he can. This above all else is what has convinced me that he has some kind of affliction. The boy has a swing that can only be explained by tard-enhanced strength.

~4:35

To Bud: Apparently we have a second cousin who is also an ordained minister. They have yet to show up. I don’t know how this is going to turn out yet.

Spencer is drinking Sprite.

My dad and his girlfriend are having an intense conversation in low tones, where they nod a lot, and put their hands on their hips.

5:38~

My dad just handed me a pile of clothes, and told me to take them upstairs. He looks pissed. I also have to take a drill out to the garage. I will be back in a couple of minutes.

Spencer picked up a seashell and a piece of quartz and said that he could figure out what his birthday was from looking at them. I told him “Awesome.”

4:43~

An eventful trip. Caught Zach and his girlfriend making out on my way to the garage. Hurrying too much to pay attention to them. It has been decided that Rachel is getting married next to the pond.

My dad’s best friend Dutch showed up. Dutch is the greatest cook that ever lived, and other than the mysterious golf-ball sized growth on the back of his head that no one is allowed to talk about, a vision of human perfection. I hope he gets to work the bbq.

4:46~

Dutch’s girlfriend asked me where the paper towels are. I don’t know.

The band guy just told me “I’m setting my guitar here so the sun doesn’t get it all…” and then said something in what I assume was tongues.

Dutch is asking everyone to help out.

4:48

Dutch is arguing with me about whether or not be “blogging the crap out of this wedding” is helping out. Dutch says “there is a new sheriff in town.”

I am not moving.

My cousin Kendall has promised to take pictures for me on myspace. Awesome! I love you Kendall! Get here soon!

4:50~

Dutch tells me to “close that thing” and “get off my fat ass.”

I hope someone gives him something to cook soon.

4:52~

Dutch is threatening me and doesn’t find the meta joke of me blogging about the fight while he fights me to be funny.

I have to go help move chairs and shit. I’ll be back in ten minutes.

The band guy keeps breathing “testing one, two” into his mic. It’s very annoying.

5:22~

Sorry that took so long.

When I got outside, Dutch said “No, go back, all the work has been done” in a very condescending manner. Then my dad said “No it ain’t” and I had to wipe down a table with Dutch’s girlfriend.

She said “Ooh, cat tracks.”

I said, “No. Raccoon tracks.”

She gasped.

Then my dad sent me out to get some MGD and take some money out of the cash machine for him. Rachel found us at the cash machine and demanded $40 for a down payment on a keg.

When I got back, my aunt Debbie and uncle Joe were here. Legitimately the two most well adjusted and nice people on the planet.

Also, my mom and my little brother and sister. I love them both so much.

The lady that’s marrying Rachel and her “man” wants to sit down with them for a few minutes. Yeah right. Like she’s going to suddenly decide they can’t be married.

5:26~

I have to go make sure Spencer doesn’t use his tard strength to murder Karen and Jacob. That would be awful.

5:31~

I keep getting the stink-eye for being on a computer at this “wedding!”

This is not a wedding, ladies and gentleman. This is a “Mulligan.

5:33~

Karen keeps wrapping her hair around her tongue, while she sits over my shoulder and watches me type. She wants to know why I call her “Karen.” I told her so it’s no one will know her real name.

Kendall is here! With a camera!

5:45~

The kids and I went to go look at the goat, but it was pooping so we had to leave it alone for a little while. My Grandmother (the good one who doesn’t know what gay people “do” not the one who had a stroke and has an evil eye) showed up, as well.

Kendall is going to get the camera, but is trying to work up the motivation.

I can’t swear for the rest of the night, because my little brother and sister are reading the entries over my shoulder. Spencer is here too, but he can’t read so it’s fine.

5:47~

Some Asian guy showed up, who has an ugly hair cut. The sides of his head are shaved, and I have no idea who he is. He looks like Seung Hui Cho. I have decided to keep an eye on him.

5:52~

We have one of those photo cakes, with a picture of Rachel and her fiancee on it. It says “This is what Love looks like.” Firstly, have they even known each other long enough to have pictures developed? Secondly, I think it should be amended to say “This is fucking bullshit.” I’m sorry that’s not clever. But the kids are gone now so I had a chance to swear and I felt like taking it.

My aunt Debbie said “I’m not judging, I just think three weeks is a very short time” during a conversation.

I said, “Don’t worry. I can judge enough for everyone here.”

~5:55

My mom is “introducing” my sister’s fiancee to everyone. How the hell do you introduce someone you don’t know? He looks like he wants to kill himself, and did not say a word back to anyone who introduced themselves?

Is it a sin to kill someone who really isn’t a full human being?

5:58~

Pictures coming soon!

Bryan is tapping on some kind of large thing I’m pretty sure is an egg… but Jesus fucking Christ it’s a big egg. I had my aunt Rita take a picture of it, but I might not have those till tonight. Kendall’s should be up in 30 min to 1 hr.

6:03~

Bride and groom are here. I can’t believe this is actually going to happen. Intellectually, I guess I knew it would, but right down where belief meets bone… god this is shitty.

6:05~

I’m sorry Sean (Sean is the guy Rachel dumped a month or so ago, so she could go nuts and marry a guy with social anxiety).

My Grandmother is talking to me.

6:07~

Rachel is wearing some kind of white lace dress. God damn it! She said she was going to wear a shirt that said “No, I’m not Pregnant.” I’m disappointed as fuck.

I’m thinking of moving back onto the deck, but I know someone would keep reading over my shoulder. Assholes.

6:10~

The fiancee went missing for like three minutes, and everyone thought he had run off.

Apparently he was just taking a dump.

6:12~

My mother is very concerned I’m writing about her “again.” She asked me if I wanted to go outside and meet “Sally.” I asked her who Sally was. She very snidely said “Rachel’s mother-in-law.”

I found this very funny so I laughed.

6:15~

Dutch saw me typing and made the sign of the cross at me. Then he looked over his shoulder an told Rachel to stop looking so stupid.

I hope he cooks something soon.

6:19~

Ceremony is supposed to be happening now. I gotta go outside. I’ll be back with the details. The groom looks like he’s going to pass out because everyone is looking at him.

6:34~

Well… Rachel has been married. The guy mumbled through all of his lines. I feel like I just watched a great work of art destroyed by a mob of illiterate pedophiles. Where are the people who want to defend the sanctity of marriage? They didn’t ask if anyone objected one time. I was going to cough really loudly, and then mutter “why bother.” I feel cheated.

The band is playing now. The lead singer looks like a were-wolf that lost energy part way into the transformation.

A girl named Candice is here and wanted me to mention that she is drinking quietly in her seat.

6:36~

My mom took a seat behind me so she can read everything I write (although she claims that isn’t the reason).

Dutch is dancing with my great Aunt Ellen.

Everyone pray that Rachel and her husband will be killed by a feral pterodactyl, that will come clawing down out of the sky before they can have children. Idiot children… who drink Sunny De-Lite and drain our tax dollars.

6:40~

My mom is now dancing with Dutch. Which would be fine if she didn’t think she was Fred Astaire. I predict twenty minutes before she pulls the mic away from the lead singer of the Geriatrics.

6:43~

I am sitting next to my uncle Doug now in the lawn. I think it may be tomorrow before we get pictures up. Kendall needs a USB cord. Also, Candice is afraid to say anything around me because I “listen to everything.”

My uncle Doug would like to add that he’s only ever arrested one member of our family. Personally.

6:45~

Candice just tried to take some food off of my uncle Mike’s plate. He assured her that this was a “Sure way to die.” Then that “that’s the truth.” I asked him if I could record this truth for posterity. He agreed.

6:54~

Kendall is drunk now, and wants me to break someone’s nose. I’m not sure whose.

Candice laughed when she saw the comment about me hitting on her. I am way to good for her guys.

6:56~

Kendall said “BC Woods! You better write about how I’m the coolest f’ing cousin ever, duh!”

Dutch made kebobs…. SOOOO GOOOOD

6:58~

Rachel is double-fisting drinks. Her husband is holding his child. That’s right. I forgot to mention that. I’m an uncle now, and Rachel is a mother.

I just shivered.

7:01~

Who the hell are all these Asians?

7:02~

To Dude: Of course you can come over. I can’t believe you and your mother weren’t invited.

And for the other comments, the chances of me getting laid at this thing ended when Chicka couldn’t put together enough money for air fare.

7:05~

The band is doing the thing where they talk really slow into the microphone. They now started playing “Pretty Woman.”

When I look at Rachel I find this very ironic.

7:11~

Chicka, it’s not my fault I am only attracted to women over 35. Blame Freud.

My aunt Debbie and uncle Joe were looking over my shoulder for a few minutes so I couldn’t type. I respect them too much to make them read this.

7:23~

My dad has decided that my new name is “Ta’Tonka” because my hair is thick, and he says from behind it looks like I have a Buffalo Head, just like my Grandmother (the one who had the stroke).

The Aunts Debbie (I have two) say I can have whatever kind of hair I want.

Sorry I slowed down for a while. My aunt Debbie and uncle Joe were behind me… and like I said… I have too much respect for them to write this in front of them.

7:27~

The band is leaving soon to go back to the Pourhouse tavern. It’s like the bar from Roadhouse, except with less class.

My mom took off her shoes and started dancing. I think my mother tried to talk them into letting her sing and they said no.

My dad’s girlfriend just lifted her beer cup at me. Then she turned it over, showed it was empty, and made devil horn’s in the air.

It’s surprising that I don’t drink sometimes…. just to chase the pain away.

I’m still waiting on that pterodactyl to come out of the sky and pull Rachel into the abyss of space. (I stole that idea from Adam Carolla by the way… but fuck it’s a good idea).

I think the pictures are coming tomorrow. Or probably the day after. I think everyone with a camera is going to be hung-over. Sorry guys.

7:31~

The band is playing their last song. It’s “Born to be Wild.” How ironic. Again. I wonder if the werewolf has mind powers….

Rachel is dancing in the middle of a bunch of women on the deck. Bryan is recording it on his camera phone. We may be able to put it on youtube. May.

7:35~

My brother just showed me the video of my mother. I can’t stop laughing. I don’t know if he’ll break down his moral walls enough to post it. I hope so.

You guys sure as hell better show up at Rachel’s next wedding.

Everyone’s going to move onto the tavern. You guys think I should go, take notes, and then transcribe what happens when I come back? Leave your vote in a comment.

7:38~

I should call a cop to take everyone’s keys away.

This is amazing. It’s like an exodus of drunks.

7:43~

Despite HybridVigor’s objections to the contrary I am apparently going to the tavern.

I will get back on-line tonight and fill you all in on what happened.

I promise to take a swing at Rachel if the opportunity prevents itself for me to escape legally unscathed.

The Tavern~

We ended up not going to the tavern for about an hour after I posted that we were going to the tavern. It’s hard to shepherd drunken mobs.

I took the opportunity to play football with my little brother and sister. The brother of my new brother-in-law (I don’t know what that makes him) decided that he needed to treat it like a real game, and ran around without a shirt, smoking a cigarette, and yelling “Fuckin’ catch that mother-fucker” as he darted in front of the kids to catch the ball. He wore jean shorts, an unbuttoned shirt, and a pony tail. He left and then a bunch of the neighbor kids came out to play.

Spencer’s older brother (age 12′ish) asked me if I had ever had a “Corn Dog.” When I told him no he threw his arms around my neck, hoisted himself upwards, and tried to bury his knee cap in my rectum. The children decided that this was pretty funny. The neighbor girl that lives across the street continued her long tradition of striking me whenever the mood hits her. In the past she usually only struck me when she wanted to see our pygmy goat.

Eventually, the kids had to go back with my mother. As I said good-bye, my mother made as if to give me a tight conciliatory hug. Deciding that I felt somewhat guilty for the things I had said about her, I decided to give her a kiss on the cheek.

She took this as an opportunity to grab hold of some of my hair, and whisper “you really do look like a Buffalo Head” into my ear. So I decided to be quiet and just say good-bye to the kids.

Eventually, I ended up in the back of my uncle Doug’s car sitting between my uncle Bruce and the brother of my new brother-in-law. Brother in law squared as I will call him, showed me a number of interesting techniques. The Nantucket Nipple Twist , the Cleveland Claw, and the Pennsylvania Penis Puller. Before he could perform the last, I promptly shoved him roughly into the door of the car. Nobody touches my penis without my say so. Nobody.

Once at the tavern, Rachel’s new husband disappeared into a corner of the bar and didn’t say a word to anyone for the following three and a half hours. He could not be located on two occasions, prompting Rachel to call out “Where’s my fagot husband!” in between drinks.

Rachel also confided that “I hate you. I’ve always hated you,” to me, at which point I asked her if it was because she feared the spirit of the Buffalo. She flipped me off. Twice.
Rachel struck two women while at the tavern. One woman she slugged in the arm so hard I thought she was trying to knock it out of its socket. The other was my cousin Angie whom she kept hitting in the boob. Rachel announced that she was the toughest mother-fucker in the room, and slammed two shots.

The band from the wedding was also at the tavern. Despite their age their music is actually pretty good. And to the commenter: yes, the lead singer does look like Imus. They finally started playing “Knocking on Heaven’s Door” at which time Rachel physically dragged “her fagot husband” out onto the dance floor.

They did not dance however. Rachel jumped up on top of him, and made him hold her in place for the duration of the song. It looked like the old pictures you saw in grade school of Smokey the Bear holding onto a Forest Ranger. At the end of it, one of Rachel’s drunken friends came out, reached into the butt of her pants, and pulled her purple thong halfway up her back. Rachel then recovered her dignity by pulling her new husband into the corner of the bar, and proceeding to make out with him for about an hour.

No, I didn’t drink. Never have, never will. Sorry guys. And I didn’t hit on anyone either, although there was a very fetching redhead. She just didn’t hit the 35+ club. No offense to her.

I’m kind of out of things to say at the moment. This day has kind of sucked in terms of my faith in humanity. I’ll have pictures up tomorrow.

Long live the Spirit of the Buffalo!

9/9/07 8:52pm~

I stole some pictures of the wedding. I had to do some serious spy shit to get hold of them too. My family changed their minds about letting me have them, but I refused to let you guys down. I will post as soon as I can find time to black out some faces.