I could blog all of the events of this weekend, but Mr. Daisywriter has made me his world-famous, "the kids aren't with us tonight, so have a cocktail" cranberry vodka drink. He missed his calling as a bartender, because as a man who doesn't drink very much at all, his cocktails are unbelievably dangerous and yummy. I am somewhat tipsy, if you will, so I shall refrain from trying to sound smart in any way, shape, or form.
Instead of acting like I can spew original thoughts, I shall defer blogging of the weekend's festivities to my fated fabulous friend Mockarena. She blogged what really needed to be blogged - the wedding to end all weddings. The big, huge, obese Greek one that everyone wants to attend. We attended it, indeed, in true Mock/Daisy fashion.
I would like to point out, though, as I did in a comment to themockdock.com, that I believe that Jesus threw a sacrificial fowl at us. I'd also like to publicly proclaim that Hacienda in Kokomo, Indiana, has salsa that I truly believe is laced with crack.
http://www.themockdock.com/2008/10/11/greek-orthodox-weddings-suicidal-chickens-and-hacienda/
