The Race for Integrity

It's a sure shot that our "save the date" will be going out this week. Whatever that means. Seriously, I think I've emailed, phoned, faxed and sent special telepathic and morse code messages to everyone regarding our wedding date. I would just like to preface that this extra step really bites my gnads; that is, ahem, short for gonads.

Kurt and Sophia, our friendly wedding rival has defeated us by mere leaps and bounds. Sophia, a professional career woman, is efficient and organized. Shellie, professionally unemployed career woman, thrives on daily five course dinner parties. Dare I forfeit? Never.

Guess what I got in the mail last week? Their save-the-date! Ugh! Sneaky little sneaker lickers. Kick me in the shins and call me slow, they're just too competent to be associated with me. Ironically, their wedding day is latter. If you ask me, I think their jumping the gun on their save the date. Or could it be that our save-the-date invite is simply on a one month delay? You decide.

Sophia, the hare vs. Shellie, the tortoise. I know who wins at the end of this conquest. This is Shellie from the hub of her imaginary spaceship, beaming up back to you Bob in the studio.