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Updates may, maybe will, seem sporadic for the next couple of weeks. You see, I've found myself in Middle Tennessee about to get married to Super Hot Irish Girlfriend. In order to keep this blessed event more like the Day of a Lifetime that she always pictured and less like a Harold Pinter play, I have many responsibilities to discharge that will preclude regular updating for you, my loyal readership.

Couple of quick things, though - (1) Saw Eddie George yesterday at the wine store. He was wearing flip-flops and buying a case of wine. He's taller than I thought! It was funny to watch the middle-aged white guys with broad Southern accents falling over themselves to help him and calling him "Mr. George" and so forth when if any other black guy came into the store they'd probably trip the silent alarm. (2) Then we saw Randy Travis at the Nashville Airport yesterday when we went to pick up The Sister. It's funny to watch people try to not seem obvious when they stare at someone famous. Nobody even tried to do that last year when we saw Taylor Swift at the airport. Incidentally, Taylor Swift is about 8 feet tall and not as great-looking in person.

OK, off to get a marriage license. Maybe a hunting license too, as long as we're there!

There's poor taste, and there's...

This:

Letourneau hosts `Hot for Teacher' night at bar

A teacher who became notorious in the 1990s for having an affair with a sixth-grader is hosting a "Hot for Teacher" night at a Seattle bar — along with the former student, now her husband.

Bar owner Mike Morris says Mary Kay Letourneau (leh-TUR'-noh) has served her sentence and it's OK for the couple to have some fun.

The 47-year-old Letourneau served seven years in prison after pleading guilty in 1997 to raping Vili Fualaau (VEE'-lee foo-ah-LA'-oo), now 26. They met when Fualaau was in second grade and began their affair when he was 12 and she was a 34-year-old married mother of four. They were married in 2005 and have two daughters together.

Morris says Saturday's event at Fuel Sports Eats & Beats will be their third "Hot for Teacher" night. She greets people and he DJs.

Incidentally, what's with the pronounciation guides? Is that so, when you're discussing this with others, you won't say "Hey, remember that skanky pedophile teacher Mary Kay (leh-tur-NO')?" by mistake?

Also, I thought it was just SF, but I guess this proves it: EVERYBODY IS A GODDAM DJ.

Sure, Mom! Would you like to stay in our room with us too?

How can I put this delicately? My mother is...ummmm....not very normal. Yes, that'll do. Anyway, we kind of have a history and consequently we don't see each other much and, as it happens and for reasons too exhausting to detail here, she's not coming to my wedding, which is - hold the fucking phone - a week from tomorrow. Which is fine and I totally understand her reasons and whatever blah blah blah.

But here's the funny thing: she doesn't want to come to the wedding. She wants to come to the honeymoon.

Oh Christ. Here's how this went down. Super Hot Irish Girlfriend and I are getting married and then we're going to NYC for a few days and then Turks and Caicos to relax in tropical Caribbean splendor and have little men bring us fruity drinks whilst we recline under the palapa. ANYWAY, Mom calls me and says she has a delicious idea - "How about I meet you and SHIG in New York and you can tell me about the wedding?????"

Umm, how about no fucking way? Because our few days of romance and nightlife in New York would turn into a tightly-scripted Momcation with events planned to the minute and long evenings gazing into my Mother's eyes over a candlelit dinner. No. No no no no no.

So I tell her no and she's genuinely surprised and hurt. I mean, am I being crazy here? Growing up with this woman, you kind of lose your handle on what crazy is. So am I? Was it wrong of me to tell my Mom that she can't come with us on our honeymoon? It's kind of weird, isn't it, that I see her about once a year and the one time this year she wants to get together is my honeymoon?

ANYWAY.

Happy Friday, everyone!

So anyway, yeah, tonight is the bachelor party, for what's it's worth, but it's not going to be one of those crazy, limo-riding, strip-club-going kind of things. Just a nice dinner with the fellas and maybe kill a hooker hit a few bars.

British people: Are they the greatest threat to our way of life?

Yesterday morning some of Lyndon LaRouche's nutty supporters were outside the BART station handing out some literature and I took some, thinking it would be good for a laugh. Boy, was I ever right.

Lyndon doesn't like British people very much:

You look at these Brits, they're fat, sloppy and dumb. Their dietary habits stink, their conditions of life stink, their opinions stink, in general. . . . the Brits are an imperial system and they're a parasitic nation, essentially. They suck the blood out of the rest of the world. Dracula was a story written by a Brit, remember. That's not coincidental.

(Make finger-twirling-next-to-head motion here)

He also doesn't like people who Twitter. Or maybe there's some group called "Twitters" that I don't know about that he doesn't like:

Now, what you're looking at here, in the United States today, is a phenomenon typified by the Twitters. Now the Twitters are very seriously an operation of evil.

MWAHAHAHAHA!!!! NO ONE SHALL KNOW OF OUR SECRET EVIL PLANS, FELLOW TWITTERS!! But wait, there's more!

This system is not going to last. What Obama represents today will not last. It's doomed, in any case. The question is, what do you get in its place. And the Twitters are the answer. The Twitters are devotedly brainless creatures. Twitter, twitter, tweet, tweet, tweet.

Hey! I resent that! I'm not a....wait, what was I talking about?

In other news, I saw the Doves last night at the Fillmore. The Doves, as you may or may not know, are from Manchester, and their home city was amply represented in the sold-out crowd, most notably by the three chaps in front of us who fist-pumped and yelled "MAHNCHESTAHHHHHHH!!!!!!" between every song, then grabbed each other and hugged and kissed. But in a football hooligan way.

There was also the drunk girl who was being held up by 2 of her friends and who finally got escorted out by the bouncers. But I don't think she was British, just drunk.

Anyway, fun show. Except it was too crowded. I don't like crowds any more.

Our team investigates where it may have gone wrong

Champagne brunch at my house isn't where it went wrong. It was quite nice, actually. I made a tortilla espanola and some chicken-apple sausage and it was all delightful.

Beers in the backyard after brunch isn't where it went wrong, either. Beautiful day, sunny and warm, lying on a big blanket - what could be wrong about that?

The sidewalk BBQ at Lower Haters isn't where it went wrong, either, even though a cop told me to throw away my beer because I was outside and it's apparently ILLEGAL TO DRINK BEER ON THE SIDEWALK. Der.

Hanging out at Ronnie's house in the Mission isn't even where it went wrong. Although I could see it starting to go wrong.

No, it was probably hanging out until midnight at Bliss Bar. Don't get me wrong; we had a great time and Chris was DJ'ing and playing really good music (not at all because half of what he was playing came directly from my requests, no, not at all) and it's always fun hanging out with The Sister et al. But good God, I'm not a kid any more and man oh man do I feel a little rough today.

And tonight we have Doves at the Fillmore. Urp.

My semi-informed election guide

First off, the 40goingon28 Special Election Guide:

Vote no on everything.

Why? Because voting "yes" just encourages the stupid budget bullshit that's now inflicted on us annually by our state legislators. Instead of figuring out a way to make expenditures match revenue - hey, there's an idea!!! - the fucking Legislature just punted the whole thing to us and said "Vote for all these ballot props that you don't understand and bail us out for another year." Well, you know what? Fuck you. You get paid to go sit in the fancy room in Sacramento and have lunch at Frank Fat's and get your picture taken with Mrs. Pauley's second grade class and all that bullshit, so you figure it the fuck out.

There is that one measure that limits legislative pay, and that's tempting, but fuck that too. Voting yes on anything just encourages this special election bullshit. So vote no. No on everything.

Happy Friday, everyone! Oh, you can't roll a keg across the city as part of Bay to Breakers this year? Deal with it.

I would now like to draw your attention to a few blogs I've been reading/enjoying lately:

Ramona has an ongoing column at the SF Appeal which is grandly entertaining, but her blog is maybe even better.

100 Emails, 20 Dates chronicles one girl's adventures in online dating.

Everybody knows about Daisy.

If you're a high-functioning alcoholic like me, you'll enjoy Camper English's Alcademics.

In a related story, how fucking cool would it be to be named "Camper English"?

Has Texts from Last Night already jumped the shark? I'm not sure.

Have a good weekend.

She's not really a morning person

One thing I think has been kind of overlooked in the whole debate over torture is the fact that WE'RE DEBATING WHETHER OR NOT TORTURE IS OK. I mean, seriously, what the fucking fuck!?!!??! Can we all just take a deep breath and sit back and think about that for a second? Did the Bush administration fuck with our heads so fucking much that we think this is some kind of reasonable debate? Are you out of your fucking mind? I thought we settled this after the goddam Spanish Inquisition ended. Imagine me saying this with my hands cupped around my mouth: IT'S NOT OK TO TORTURE PEOPLE. Fuck, it's like everyone is 13 years old or something. Unbelievable.

Speaking of torture, I was reminded this morning that it's not a good idea to fuck with Super Hot Irish Girlfriend in the morning. She was still in bed and trying to sleep and I was joking around with her and making noise and kissing all over her face just before I left for work and she opened her eyes just a little bit and said "I will jam your nose up into your brain." So cute!