In a weekend shadowed by a grotesque, hideous, unthinkable plague that may make a few Americans experience flu-like symptoms for a slightly longer period of time than a typical flu, a number of brave, hardy souls made the difficult trek to State College, Pennsylvania to see our friend Rick Williamson marry long-time girlfriend Rachel Senior (now Williamson obvi). Before I get into shenanigans, congrats guys and best of luck in Phoenix, even though I said that twenty times on Saturday and Sunday.
Even though we're all grown up now, it's pretty clear we ungrew up this weekend. I can honestly say, it never got more ridiculous than the below, but that's not saying a whole lot, as you will quickly see.
Apologies for the poor camera work here. My very audible laughing rendered me incapable of filming properly.
Another funny happening was a continuing theme of the weekend. Part of me thinks I should tread lightly while discussing this but a bigger part of me thinks God has a sense of humor. One gentleman noticed that there was none other than a basket of plastic fetuses in the back of the church. Not like a couple, but a very, very large basket of small plastic fetuses. It said "8-12 weeks pre-born" on its back, which clearly isn't a marking real fetuses have on their backs at 8-12 weeks, but I forgive them for this oversight. This picture gives you and idea of the relative size of the fetus, which prompts the question, is the fetus really molded to scale? I don't have enough (or any) fetus experience to know.
In any event, this prompts a lot of other questions too. Who makes the fetuses? What's their production cost and sale price per fetus? Or do they quote it per dozen? Per ton? What's that God? It's not funny anymore? One more joke and see what happens? Got it. Moving on.....
The greatest t-shirt ever for a boy younger than 4 but the creepiest t-shirt ever for anyone else. We love seeing Brady (and now Tate too).
Late in the weekend, I finally thought to start taking down some notes on what was being said but it was far too late. The only thing I really got was a quote not fit for print that involved pickles. I do, however, remember drinking a ton, eating a ton of eggs, meat, and cinnamon stickies, and laughing a ton with a lot of great friends....and lastly, saying hello to Joe Pa. Apologies to my father and my brother Brian for the outright betrayal shown below. I can actually say that I like State College. There I said it. I like State College.
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