Justin Marriage : the stag
Everything was steaming along fine in our deck renovations. Once Kev and I had finished 3 weeks of procrastination and started work. We also fabricated and painted cupboard doors to complement last winters back-splash.
Long story short, I was 2 days late, and starting to scheem up very complicated methods for ‘biking’ (car ride, train, bus, fed-ex) the 500km to Justin’s (yet to be organized) Stag in KW. Tracy who was (thank muchas) flying my suit up to Thunderbay for the wedding, called to see why I hadn’t dropped my shoes off, and then suggested ‘wouldn’t it be easier to car pool with me to Toronto tomorrow?’
Thank you Tracy. Once more my PPP (piss poor planning) is bailed out, and without stress everything works fine. Fine, as in calling Jeff at 11pm, and asking if I can sleep in his garden, to not disturb his 2 day old son… I end up in my usual bicycle closet under the stairs, and his son (the older one) is fishing my shreddies, out of the bowl and handing them directly to my mouth. Conveniently eliminating the need for a spoon.
I’m last one out, lock the door, slam, oops forgot the helmet and sunglasses. Traffic is light in Toronto if you’re off the highways, so I start squinting and get riding, I’ve got more helmets and glasses stashed at cache #4 in Bracebridge.
After a very long tirade, in which I learned more 
than I though possible about corn, including eating some raw ‘agent oranged’ freshly poached feed-corn we set off on the couchbike.
To find ‘TOAD’ our bachelor. He’d been freshly stung by a hornet, and had ‘some’ swelling between the eyes.
Where would cousin Mike show up?
I think we succeed in having a great, wholesome night of PG fun (that one girl couldn’t help that her nipples popped out a bit – and “they” – the movie ratings people – would have fixed that with CG – PG I tell you). The pictures speak for themselves.
No matter how many (rather) pretty girls I could find to (ahem) talk to my brother, I was impressed to see that he is unwavering and 100% happy in his conviction.
Is a person allowed to Blog about these things?
I promise that I behaved at the wedding (it’s not in my programming to do otherwise)
hitch hikers were welcomed
bouncers arm wrestled
karaoke sung
the cops commented on our poor couch bike driving skills
4 days later and Justin was none the worse for wear.
What a mess this entry was. Of course on our drive to thunder bay the car broke down, and we spent a night camped out in at a shell station, bookended by eating chineese food with every 16 year old in terrace bay, and doing the famed ‘caribou walk‘.
