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Bob's sorry ass has been to way too many weddings all around the planet, spending a ton of dough in the process. At the end of the book, he just wants to try and put some sense to it, together with all the other stuff in life and what’s generally going on out there in the big bad world.

Kidding aside, deep down, my relationships have been like all my other life
experiences: they immerse themselves into the mix like new ingredients in
an ever-evolving simmering stew. They are combined with my ongoing exposure
to the world’s ways, my deciphering of what the news media says supposedly
happens out there, friendly advice (sometimes delivered with mixed messages),
and crossed signals, all exerting their collective influence on me.
I am—infiltrated by all, inculcated by none.

So, whaddup with all that?

N.B. That subtle single word above makes all the difference.

At first, when younger and more naive, cuz that’s all you are taught and know, you’re led to believe that the news is accurate and true, hopefully most of the time, right? I mean, you gotta sorta trust in the system. 

Then, slowly, certain telltale things and events transpire in the world on your watch that make you start to question it all. You do some investigating on your own. Dig a bit, and find some good stuff. Dig some more, and a whole mess of things comes to light from a trickle to a torrent to a tsunami. Bob likens this to finally figuring out the real deal on Santa Claus when you were a kid, but on a much larger scale on steroids. 

Here are some short clips that may well pique your curiousity on this whole element of the news. It all starts with being open to the possibility that things aren’t as they appear, and how you’re told things operate. This is certainly NOT the case with many things in this world, and it starts with the mainstream media, which may as well be re-badged as the Ministry of (Dis/Mis)Information. 




It’s just like that very old, wise, and  really deep saying in the restaurant business (that Bob just made up right now actually).

That’s not chicken in your chicken chow mein.
What?!  You mean it’s turkey? The bastards!



And then when/if you do start to suss things out, you’ll need to decide whether to take the red pill, or the blue pill.


Then when things really start to change in the world, you’ll be in a position to at least not be surprised by it all or already know what’s happening, if not necessarily being able to do much about it. Or consider taking neither pill, because no news is also possibly a solution.

All in all, for a break, Bob would rather be at a wedding somewhere exotic having fun as some single cat, and not worrying (too much) about what’s (really) going on in the world. I mean, despite what the mainstream news media says (or not), depending how and where you get your information and process it, you still gotta live and enjoy life, right? At least until other bigger, long-planned, behind-the-scenes events manifest, stuff spins out of control, and everything goes to hell in a handbasket thereafter.


In the mean time, just kick back and read this book to take you far far away from the madness and have a few chuckles. Either that, or watch the mainstream news for comedy relief alone, in conjunction with all that finely crafted "reality" television like Keeping Up With The Kajagoogians that is helping us all get smarter about everything. 
 


 
Subject: Epilogue - Education + intelligence blah-blah
(Posted on Oct 29, 2014 at 09:10AM ) Tags:
Toward the end of the book, after all the wedding dust has settled, Bob, Dr. LoveSexy and Jock Finn are engaged in some bi-coastal, morning BBM action on the subjects of marriage, relationships and women, when a brief, spontaneous topical detour to education and intelligence occurs.

Bogus Bob: Cry me a river! Education is not everything. It is a piece of paper, like marriage. Edumuhcation is just as important, if not more so. Everything important you learn on your own outside school in the real world anyhoo. As one friend long ago told me: B.A. = bugger all; B.S. = bull shit; M.S. = more shit; and Ph.D. = piled higher & deeper. Not to disparage education generally, but having a piece of paper doesn’t mean one is more of a rocket scientist than someone who doesn’t have one. There are many measures of intelligence.

Dr. LoveSexy: Linguistic, logic-math, bodily-kinesthetics, musical, spatial, interpersonal, and intrapersonal. Blah blah bleehhh. IQ is just an incomplete white man’s invention for the benefit of white folks anyway. Measures only the first 2 out of 7.

Jock Finn: Of course. I know all about that 7 measures of intelligence shite. They added an eighth—naturalistic—and there is even debate on others.

Dr. LoveSexy: Regardless of how one measures it, you’re both fuckwits. Put some of those Mensa mofos on the street in a real situation, and they wouldn’t last so long. Enough. A man got work to do and bills to pay. Don’t drain my day with this academic white drivel.

Dr. LoveSexy has left the conversation.

Jock Finn: Hmmm, I guess we should listen to Yoda. We singles are a dying breed and need to stick together, like the Jedi. OK, off to work.

The paper education versus life and self-education (aka edumuhcation) bit is pretty clear, but what were those 7 or 8 measures of intelligence all about? You can drill down here on the multiple forms (or modalities) of intelligence as theorized by Howard Gardner, and even a ninth, existential, was added too. One of his main points was that our standardized Intelligence Quotient (IQ) tests don’t represent the Full Monty on completely assessing all modalities and someone’s true intelligence. So, like somebody could have a high IQ and still be a full six pack short of all the remaining unmeasured modalities.


Similarly, someone with a lower IQ could have huge capabilities in the unmeasured areas. Many sources contest and point out that IQ tests also test spacial ability, but that is two-dimensional only typically, and not in the πth dimension (yeah, that pi, as opposed to the rhubarb or chocolate pecan type). So put that in your pipe and smoke it. Of course there was a lot of debate and discussion on Gardner's theory. But at the end of the day, does it all even really matter? Next time someone calls you stupid or an effwit, dazzle them with that stuff and tell ‘em you are "off the charts" in those non-standardized, unmeasured areas.


Sometimes, it’s those little everyday things in the world where you witness spontaneous sparks of imaginative intelligence to solve a problem that may likely not be found on any test, or insight delivered from any textbook.


And, if you are being formally tested or judged, don’t be boxed in by others’ limited expectations and constraining lines of questioning.  Change the game or playing field up. Turn those shite, ever-so-tricky, math mysteries into something else, as ably and creatively demonstrated here.

 
Maybe them folks at Mensa might get all pissed, cuz, like, if the playing field changed for defining intelligence as IQ is accepted today, it might overturn that whole apple cart.
 
 

Your sorry ass be thinking the world is flat, and mofos come along and show it’s round—yo, that stuff will mess with your head.


Not fitting flush into the Mensa fold, think it too elitist, or that it doesn’t serve a porpoise [sic]? Think different—sign up for Densa instead!


It’s much more inclusive and easier to get it in. Here’s a piece that speaks to its origins and you can take a short test here. Then there's the classic Homer Simpson take on being smart (or "smaht" as many may say in Boston and MA environs).


If you are feeling intellectually inadequate, either way, it's possible do something about it right now and fix your life!  A little superior in the intelligence department? Well, there’s a pill for that, so you can downward adjust, and be just like everyone else around you.


On the flip side, want to get a little sharper? Try downing a few bottles of this Lithuanian bad boy, Vytautas. They claim it will make your wits so sharp you’ll be able to slay vampires with them. Schweet!  Plus, this awesome Earth juice seemingly has other huge benefits like drastically reducing your chances of being raped by a gang of pandas, if there’s any truth in advertising out there still in the world.


On a sidebar note, Bob thinks that this last video kinda represents the vibe of what the overall book experience on completion can be like. Sorta like “What the hell just happened here?!”

Bob ain’t just some daft dude hitting weddings all around the world for shits and giggles. He’s imaginated real hard to invent some of them education type letters to put after his name, so he can socialize with those well-studied, titled-up folks and not feel inadequate. Three bestowed to date … PTT (Part-Time Typist), OWG (Occasional Wedding Guest) and HHRF (Head Honcho Rancho Fuckwit). In time, he’ll work on some more.




Subject: Epilogue - Dangerous Destination Dos
(Posted on Jul 9, 2014 at 08:41AM ) Tags:
Just as that mysterious Max chap was trying to plan around some undesired scenarios that could potentially unfold at some super-secret, high-end wedding in Mexico, it was advocated by yours truly, posing as some bobo advice columnist, that he put some protective measures in place.

In life, you can plan until the cows come home, but stuff may still not go down according to your intentions. Shit happens!

And so, even in this Mexican wedding setting, it was presciently suggested everybody be packing, from the wedding couple on down to the bridal party, guests, and all staffers. That way, if the big day got overturned by some unwelcome wedding crashers, folks wuz prepared and all.

.

However, if things go sideways, the scene could unravel like these famous cinematic scenes, just amped up somewhat in real life, what with potentially hundreds of armed folks in the mix on all sides.



And then, as someone postulated, "If miscalculated, the scene could unravel and go down faster than a piñata at Carlos Slim Helu’s surprise 50th birthday party.” But then, even THAT might not go down per plan as these videos nicely indicate. Whenever humanity is involved, one can never count on anything gettin' done right and being on point. 




Clearly, this crew of cats celebrating their event somewhere in Saudi Arabia has it all going on.


Fashion, functionalty, and firepower can all be artfully combined to realize the vision and passion of the day you’ve always dreamed of. Really, it's all about how you accessorize in the end. 
Bottomline, don’t let the prospect of a little geopolitical instability ruin your perfect day in paradise. Ladies, just step up, Lean In, and "pack" accordingly for your destination wedding and the "climate" at hand. 

"War is hell" and some, let alone many, say marriage is too, several years on. But don’t let the glory of wedding day be ruined by subpar preparation. Even if you can’t afford to hire the likes of Max from Credenhill and a coterie of his ilk, you can manage well enough on your own in most cases with LOTS of friends and family.


The seemingly omnipotent NRA would undoubtedly bless all this, no matter where your special day is, be it Throckmorton, Texas; Tagtabazar, Turkmenistan; Tabuk; Timbuktu; Tecacahuaco; Thiruvananthapuram; Tweebuffelsmeteenskootmorsdoodgeskietfontein, or Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapokaiwhenuakitanatahu. Yeah, I know, go put that mouthful of places in your pipe and smoke 'em. 

Some stuff jin the world ust seems to transcend the barriers of culture and language, kinda just like love. Geez, you got BNB getting all mushy and sentimental here. 


That’s what this single hombre traveling the globe for weddings has to say on the matter.



Subject: Epilogue - Managing Guest Count
(Posted on Mar 16, 2014 at 02:11PM ) Tags:
Planning a wedding, and feeling a bit overwhelmed with how to manage and cut down your guest count? Maybe you are also struggling with risking to offend some by not inviting them? 

There are lots of reasons folks want a smaller wedding, whether it is because you want a small intimate affair, have budgetary restrictions, or your significant other wants really big, when you want really small. There is always a way around this, and still be able to safely say you invited everyone fair and square, so they can’t bitch about it later on behind your back to others if not straight  to your face.

You can listen to people like these professionals / experts here and try to suss it out that way.
 


Or you can listen to some single guy who has been to select weddings all around the world for a few decades and take some knowledge straight from the trenches.

Applying my four simple rules will help to solve anybody's wedding guest list quandary. 

1. Make the wedding far away and difficult to get to.
2. Announce it on very short notice (e.g., next week).
3. Have it midweek and during the school year.
4. Make it expensive to get to.

Let’s look at the four of these gems one by one for added insight. You can choose to use these solo or in various combinations, depending on the effect you and your partner desire for your big day so you can share it confidently and happily with all your family and friends.

On this first rule, that alone can keep many away, if they don’t want to make the effort to get there. The further away you make it, the more will fall off the back end of the wedding wagon. Take the "difficult" part and even push it to say "dangerous" and you will be really rocking the guest count cutback. Dangerous need not be in some war zone,  place of conflict, or lawless land with kidnapping and other crime possibilites, but it could be for reasons of disease/health risks or hazardous flora/fauna depending on your location. “Difficult” can also be tied to logistics and planning, for things like visas, vaccinations, and if you plan a destination that requires multiple hops and modes of transport to sort out, that is an added bonus for keeping ‘em away.

The second rule is a great one too, as the less amount of time you give folks to react and plan, then you have a way better chance of less participation. This one can all by itself can accomplish a whole lot.

Rule number 3 is great for knocking your friends with kids out of the box, if they don’t want to pull them out of school, and/or can’t find someone like family or a babysitter to take care of them. A lot of couples fret over the invitation list to include kids or not to include kids, because, depending on what life stage you are at, and your friends, the kid factor can really mushroom the final count overall. No worries there.  With this third rule in the mix, they need to make the decision to go without them, or bring them along. Midweek is also great, because now you are essentially forcing your guests to generally take more time off work too. Do they really want to blow a bunch of their limited vacation days to hit your wedding, especially if it ain’t in some garden spot of the world? You know it!

Then, if you still really think too many folks may squeak in, pulling the financial stakes up a notch or two, above and beyond what rule number 1 played to, then you can get rid of a few more clingers on.  The money you save in fewer guests can now be put to your own travel, accommodation and honeymoon budget. It is win win all around, amigo.

So, okay, enough for theory. How does one actually go and put this into practice in the real world?  School time is over, kids. Here’s the real deal for your benefit that I crafted.

All four elements are put into play, and I put in a few extra tweaks as well, by using e-mail only, playing up the family-friendly angle, and putting some kool food options front and center to help knock off some of those pain-in-the-ass fussy eaters. This will guarantee the final guest count is right where you want it to be and no one will feel slighted whatsoever that they didn't get the big welcome to come out.

-----Original Message-----
From: Bob Boguslavski & Ginger Akin
Sent: Nonday, Remember 13, 2019 37:98 AM
Subject: We’re Getting Married!

Hi there.

Just thought we’d let you know that we’re getting married. And you are invited!

Sorry for this short-notice, e-mail-only invite, but we just decided today, about 20 minutes ago actually. Hopefully it doesn’t bounce or get trapped in your spam filter.

Thursday next week—in Bumblefuck, Bongobongostan. Be there. No visa required if you are from neighboring countries.

First, long haul to Baklaliviatatlaglooshen City, the capital (GMT +7). Next, regional jet to Batorrorheet Island (90-minute flight). Last air leg is a short float-plane puddle-jumper charter to Lower Uotarrorheet (25 minutes), which will bring you to the mouth of the Billabbillabbiloxi River. You are almost there!

A short 1-hour dugout canoe ride follows, but beware the piranhas and water moccasins. You have arrived at the portage point. Machetes will be on hand as necessary. Greenery grows quick and thick around these parts! Last (we promise), a brisk 1.28-mile jaunt inland over semi-rugged rolling jungle terrain with your bags, and you will have arrived to share in our joyous day in paradise.

Since the military junta’s coup last summer, any holdups in-country at checkpoints and impromptu shakedowns along the way can usually be quickly resolved by discretely slipping the odd 50 nuevo bakhfir note as baksheesh for safe passage.

Don’t forget all precautionary yellow fever, hepatitis A/B, human papillomavirus (HPV), tetanus/diphtheria (Td), and meningococcal vaccines, and bring along malaria tablets. We will have ample supplies of antivenom for the local elapid varieties and fabled wandering recluse spiders should they invade your hut.

We are definitely a family-friendly wedding and welcome your bringing along your loved ones. We will have arrangements with the local witch doctor to care for younger children during the pagan celebration and after-dark offering. There is adequate complimentary mosquito netting at night, but not to worry unduly as the plasmodium falciparum type of malaria is not too prevalent here.

In the interest of planning, kindly select your main course in advance:
- BBQ moray eel in blood reduction
- Whole roasted giant scorpion vindaloo
- Filet of free range Chtorran gastropede

We are happy to make accommodations for vegetarians, given the plethora of locally available fresh produce, including red kudzu.

We look forward to seeing you all and sharing the moment with us.

With lots of love,

Ginger & Bob
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Sent from our new and improved CrackBerry Intergalactic Kommunikator / Time Warp Teleportal / Holographic Orgasmatron / Illuvian Disruptor Death Ray


Now that is a wedding invitation! If you are really good with this (and lucky), it will keep your future mother-in-law away too.

You should be now easily capable of crafting your own strategy here. No need to thank me by the way, but in the end, you will still need to make your food selection for the evening’s dinner. Thanks to David Gerrold for the food inspiration. As the groom in the above, I’d probably go for the gastropede with some red kudzu on the side.




Subject: Epilogue - Of Max and Mexico
(Posted on Jan 14, 2014 at 09:33PM ) Tags:
Another obliquely inserted reference near the end of the book lies with one of the two wedding help letters written to Bobby Bo in his imaginary gig as a wedding advice newspaper columnist.

Who was Max and what was he on about? The answer might lie with his location and parting line.


Credenhill, in the UK, is the home of 22 SAS Regiment. Yes, that's right, the Special Air Service. Maybe, that is why Max signs off with “Who Dares Wins” playing off the SAS motto of “Who Dares, Wins.” Or that was just accidental. Quite possibly, I may just have goofed and forgotten the comma too. D-oh, Homer! Or maybe both are in common usage in reality. 

Note that Heref (Herefordshire) is not the same as Herts (Hertfordshire). The two are a couple hours apart by road. Since Max is ostensibly some covert operations guy, he could have tried a sly substitution of the latter, for the former, in order to be purposely misleading. He could then claim it was a mistake, and would have plausible deniability. Either that, or he could do it to see if anybody was actually paying attention. 

Now, on the main matter, why would some of them SAS cats take a covert gig in Mexico doing wedding security? Maybe they might, and even if they did, it would be a case of steadfast denial if ithe word ever got out there. And how would some part-time typist ever find out about it anyway either, unless they were writing to him for advice? 

In this day and age, with military budget cutbacks all over the gaff, and subpar pay in the ranks, it’s all about the money, honey—especially if you turn to the private sector where all the fat be, Bobbolino. Just look at  Academi (as changed from Xe and Blackwater before thet in some weak rebranding exercise to try and play "let's hide the past"). Everybody just wants to be paid out, as Dr. LoveSexy might say. Who cares who wins?


Our man Max could have also been some local-pub punter wannabe nearby the base, just hanging out and being a pretender. 

At the end of the day, it’s all just about some single guy wedding adventures and funny tales therein.