The Other Wedding of the Year

It's the end of an era, good people. Note the lowercase nature of the letters; it's not the end of a proposed Equal Rights Amendment. No, this is even greater, and something Christians would even approve of. My loyal roommate Camembert has gotten married.

No one was more misty-eyed than me, except all the women and the lesser men, when my good friend of many years, and distant relationship through my miserable second marriage, Camembert, married his girlfriend, Girl Elvis. Sometimes I doubted it would ever happen, but on Dec. 3 they were officially announced Mr. and Mrs. Camembert. Actually, I don't know the real names, but you get my gist. You can't rightly go around calling them Girl and Boy Elvis—there's already a Boy Elvis. The original Elvis, friends.

The ceremony was held in Las Vegas, and like any wedding involving an Elvis impersonator, it was officiated by a Col. Tom Parker lookalike, Reverend Slingblade. Camembert described it as "gaudy," but it looked perfectly devoid of god to me. Just Camembert, in the best tuxedo I've ever seen a handicapped man wearing, and Girl Elvis, in the sequined jumpsuit her mother wore at her wedding. Ginger and a Carl Perkins impersonator were the bridesmaids, Lee and I were the best men. But I was by far the better best man. I got to plan the bachelor party and carry the ring. What did you get, Lee? Jack shit, that's what. Let's not kid ourselves.

It was an emotional ceremony. Camembert and Girl Elvis wrote their own vows, but I replaced them at the last minute. She was halfway through hers before she realized it. If you ask me, "I promise you sweet lovin' and all the ass you can work" may not get you bawling, but it's just plain funny. Real audience-pleaser stuff. So I won't be invited to their house for a while, so what? They'll get over it when they remember Rok Finger's always been their best friend.

For the big finale, 12 svelte flamingos were released into the air to symbolize their love, that and I've always wanted to recreate the opening to Miami Vice. Now that it's out on DVD everyone will finally get the reference without me having to remind them of it. Camembert and his new wife took off into the sunset for their honeymoon in Salt Lake City, riding a motorcycle. Sidecar for Camember, natch. I think the new look suits him. He should seriously consider ditching the chair for a permanent sidecar accessory.

All of this has left me feeling a little bit inadequate. Truth be told, I've been thinking about finding someone else to marry—weddings always make me sentimental that way. I haven't told my wife, of course, since I'm also sentimental for keeping my ass intact. If I did marry another woman, it would probably just be for a spare wife. I have had trouble keeping just one, you know, and it wouldn't be a bad idea to have another one socked away for a rainy day.

The biggest way this has effected my life, other than taking up a Saturday I would have used for building the world's largest tandem bicycle, is that I lost my best friend and roommate. I would like to say I've not lost my best friend, but gained a best friend-in-law, but that's total bullshit. He's moving out and she's going with him. So I lost two best friends. But Ginger's happy about it—she's already started talking about getting Lee out on his own so we can start the babymaking.

Which is a little premature, of course, since I already told her I wouldn't start to work on building the world's largest wooden baby until I finished that damned tandem bike. The thing has been a nightmare.

Little Man With a Gun in His Hands
Good people, you are now reading at a licensed gun owner. That's the truth—except for the license thing. I'm still studying for the exam. And if you think having a gun doesn't change your life, you should shoot yourself right now. Oh, that's... (11/7/05)

At War With the Joneses
There must be some sort of law that says I, Rok Finger, can never live next to a normal neighbor. Well, I suppose the neighbors on the other four sides are normal enough. But that doesn't excuse the fact my neighbors to the right are the most... (10/10/05)

The Concert for New Orleans
Rok Finger is more full of it than anyone you've ever met—if the "it" in question is charity. I've got more charity in my tax documents than most people have in their whole bodies. And when I heard people somewhere were suffering from something, I... (9/19/05)

I'm Fresh Out of Haitian Cigarettes
I am royally bummed, good people. I can say that without fear of contradiction. For one, because anyone can verify how true it is, and two, because I'm simply not afraid of contradictions anymore. The therapy is working. I can't control when someone... (9/5/05)