To Rebecca on Our Wedding Day

Today we marry. It's hard to believe that we've been dating for a year and half. Time is strange. On the one hand it feels like we just met a few weeks ago. On the other, it feels as though I've known you all my life. I think that's one of the things that has always amazed me (and continues to do so). It was almost as if there was no 'getting to know you' phase of our relationship. The information exchange that happened was largely a formality, something that people do when they meet a new person, but not strictly necessary in our case. Whenever you would tell me you liked a certain food or a certain band it was more confirming what I already suspected than discovering new things about you. Wierd huh.

Sometimes we say things to each other like, "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." In fact we do so to a degree that through frequency it starts to lose its potency. Let me just say, for the record that it's as true for me as it was the first time I said it. You are, unconditionally, the sweetest, most forgiving, most decent person I have ever met. I count myself lucky beyond measure that I was even able to meet you. To know that I get to spend my life with you is more than my tiny mind can process.

It was odd preparing for this day, in so many ways I've considered us "married" since before I even moved to Michigan. Before we ever even brought it up in discussion, I already knew that I had found something remarkable and had best play my cards right. I knew from the start that I was the lucky one. So much so, that when we finally did get engaged that it hardly felt like news (to such a degree that I neglected to inform one of my closest friends, sorry Jami). But, by definition, news is 'new', and this wasn't new. This was something I had known for a long time. Something that feels, even now, like it was written and decided well before we ever even knew each other's names. I've never been much of a disciple to Destiny or Fate but the events of the past few months have made a fairly strong case for it.

In addition to being all the things I mentioned above, you are good for me. If I hadn't met you, I'm certain beyond doubt that I'd still be in Boston working at a dead end temp position with nothing musical going for or around me. I'd also be hating every second of it. I most certainly would not be teaching music. You have given me a gift I had pretty much lost somewhere, a confidence in my abilities as a musician. As if all the other things you've done and do for me weren't enough, I could never repay that in a thousand lives of fervant toil. Thank you.

So today we make known to the world, the federal government, and to our God the thing that I've known for a very long time, perhaps longer than I even realize. You are my wife.
Love always,

Kroy


I will write you a song

For Your Convenience

I have aquired and implemented a new invention I am thinking of calling Electronic Mail whereby you may send Hate mail, pipebombs, boiled rabbits, and other festive gifts via the World Wide Web. I could have just put a mailto: link in there but that only work if you have an email program configured to launch when you click one of those links. And who does that? Everybody uses webmail. I also could have written it out all normal like but I don't want email harvesters(some of my best readers) to archive my email address and gum up my mailbox, thereby slowing the delivery of my pipebombs and boiled rabbits. If I need cheap Viagra, I know a guy. Also I came up with a snazzy and adorable name for the Kitty Profiles.

edit: Actually I just found a cool idea about how to make it look like a regular link but still thwarting the robots. Either way, it'll have to wait until I'm home.

Going to the Chapel, and We're Gonna, et cetera

So this week I'll have a much better excuse for not updating. I'm about to embark on a journey of Frodoian proportions. At last count the drive I have before me is 12 hours, but following my Tolkienian metaphor that'll just get me to the elven home of Imladris. People often talk about chapters of their lives and things opening closing and what not. It's a droll concept that I've never really subscribed to but at this point I feel like that it doesn't come close to describing how my life will irrevocably change before the weekend by half. It's as though my life up to this point were the happy travelings of a young and plucky burgler. Now, some sixty years later, I find myself inheritor of an artifact of unimaginable power and it is left to me to see the Necromancer brought down. Ok. That's the last Middle-earth metaphor, I promise.

The dark irony is, of course, that since I'll be torn from my debiliating addictions, I may actually manage to update this week. Only the Shadow and your hairdresser knows for sure.

-Kroy has gone offline


that jolly jumbuk that you've got in your tucker bag

The Conclusion of a Very Rigid Search

I know, I know, I'm not updating much lately. All I can say is, I've been otherwise occupied. I have pressing business with the Twilight's Hammer cult. I'm sure you understand.

In other news, I also just recently had the pleasure of viewing Everything is Illuminated which is an excellent film. It stars everyone's favorite hobbit (well, he wasn't my favorite hobbit but I got much love for Master Samwise). Anyway, unlike some other celebrities who can't seem to find work because of their involvement with certain hallowed franchises, Elijah Wood doesn't seem to be having any trouble maintaining a vibrant work schedule. This was an independent film that I saw trailers for several months ago during one of my scheduled romps through apple trailers. It looked good to me immediately but to my knowledge it never came to any theatres in this area. If it did, I missed it. At any rate, we rented it last night and I can recommend it unconditionally.

The basic story is about this weird little guy who wears his pants too high, this guy collects things. All kinds of crap and he's on a journey to find a woman who was, apparently very important to his Grandfather. It's essentially a road movie. But this is a road movie featuring a crotchety old blind driver, a modern day Prufrock, and a broken English speaking Ukrainian who is of premium comedy making. I don't want to spoil anything about the movie so that's all I'll say besides you should see this movie.

Dr. Jackhole rating: Four Grapes Up

-Kroy has left the server


slapped my dried up carcass

I Shot the Sheriff

Anyone who knows me probably knows me as someone who doesn't really get into a lot of New Age fads or trends. It's also well established fact that my favorite joke ever involves the incineration of other human beings. Would you like to hear it?

Q. What's yellow and red and looks good on a hippie?

A. Fire

Isn't that great? Anyway, so while I appreciate, even adore, the music that arose from the counterculture movement. I feel very few social ties to it. People with dreadlocks categorically make me uncomfortable. The last thing I'd want would be to be associated with a group of patchouli-smelling degenerates.

Recently a complication has arisen in this arena. Rebecca returned from her job training armed with a bevee of terrifying statistics regarding diet and how eating can kill you (like how eating a single butter scotch in your teens will give you advanced diabetes and make your balls rot off). As such we've made a few minor adjustments to our culinary regiment. My house is now running over with whole grain this and leafy green that. Luckily most of these things are food items closely related to things I liked before so the shift hasn't been too drastic. One thing that has started showing up in my cupboard is Granola. Filthy, stinking, hippie granola. What's worse, in a moment of weakness, I tried it. What's worse yet, in a moment of delicious revelation, I liked it. By itself it's fairly bland but when slaked with half a cup of sugar it's actually quite tasty. Even so, this is entirely too New Age of me. I've always subscribed to the Dennis Leary philosophy of diet. Wherein, red meat tastes like murder and murder tastes pretty fuckin' good. But I can already tell this vile amalgam of grains, raisins, and insect husks is working it's contemptible magic on me.

I've started listening to more Bob Marley for one. Which, in itself isn't' a bad thing, but I mean a lot of Bob Marley. Not only that, but the deeper meanings of his tunes have started affecting me in a visceral way. I tear up every time I hear "Get Up, Stand Up." While Rebecca is at work today I'll be replacing all our doors with bead curtains. I quit showering five days ago. I'm also seeking deeper truths in my search to find Jah. I just changed our wedding plans also, no longer are we getting married in a church. I found a field of poppies where we can stand barefoot and get hitched by a Hindi Yogi. We're getting Phish to play our reception. I'm legally changing my name to Cocoon because I'm a work in progress man. Someday I'll emerge from my mortal shell into something... eternal and groovy.

So next time you see me, I'll be the dreadlocked, patchouli-smelling degenerate.

-Kroy has gone offline


my mind can't clutch the feeling

Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come for You

I haven't 'guffawed' at an internet video in a while so this definitely warrants sharing. Props to Greg in the desert southwest for wresting this gem from the bowels of the internet.

Dungeons & Dragons Watch it now on StupidVideos!

Conversations

[During a lengthy discussion on the theological differences between the Catholic and Charismatic Protestant sects of Christianity.]

"So they pretty much believe in an non-uniform age of accountability at which point a person becomes responsible for their actions is therefore eli-."

"HOLY SHIT WE NEED TO BUY A LOTTERY TICKET!"

Wrapped Up Like a Duece

I've been thinking about more things I could do to The Hole to make it a little bit snazzier. One thing is that I think I'm going to start rip off Dooce's custom of creating mastheads for her website. There are two things we should clear up before I commit to this though. One, she like updates a new masthead every month or so, whereas I'll be updating it once per whever-I-feel-like-it. It could be four in one day, it might be once per liturgical season. The guessing is half the fun! Secondly, Her Dooceness was once paid to design websites and uses Photoshop like it's an extension of her mortal body. The images I'll be producing will likely be vile and blasphemous in the name of modern design. Pointing and laughing at my trivial attempts to create something purty will be the other half of the fun. What does everyone think of that? Discuss.

Just a note: you are encouraged to comment below but be warned that I'll end up doing whatever the hell I want anyway.