The Truth Is Easy To Say

Joy to the future!

I am a married man. And how!

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all our wonderful friends and family for your contributions to our perfect day. Thank you! We are bless-ed.

It was a beautiful day. And a beautiful night. I might write about it sometime over the next ten days. Maybe I'll remember my speech and write that. It was a great speech. it was great because it was true. The truth is easy to say, even, nay, especially in front of ones friends and ones family.

Getting married is awesome. I would recommend it to anybody.

Maybe I won't write anything at all, though. Maybe I'll just frolic and play with my wife. For now, dear reader, I am packing my bags: we are off on our honeymoon. We booked it yesterday, and if you've been in the vacinity of my Twitter or Facebook you'll already know what an ordeal that has been. To cut a very long, epic, and horrorful story short, this morning we got an email saying the lovely 80 euro a night hotel we'd booked wasn't actually available, and we were being moved to a crap one. We rang to protest: "it's our HONEYmoooon" wailed my wife... so the nice American lady called Larra we were speaking with declared it her mission to find us somewhere suitable, and after an hour rang us back and informed us that we were being moved us to a shockingly posh 340 euro a night place FOR FREE. My wife squealed with delight. "It's got a flipping "rain type shower bathroom" and a view of a VOLCANO!" I wrote on Facebook, excitedly. My new wife and I danced around our little flat in a state of pure joy. Truly, we were happy newlyweds.

Two hours later, the phone rang, and we were told that we would not, in fact, be getting the shockingly posh 340 euro a night place, and were offered a rotten looking little place that a cursory Google search revealed to be the recipient of a number of one star reviews, including one that referred to it as a "hovel" with a "stinking" toilet that was "full of flies."

"But it's our HONEYmoooon!" wailed my wife. We spent the rest of the day on the phone with Larra from Expedia, who had evidently acted in haste by trying to book us somewhere posh, and was now working within considerably more humble bugetary constraints imposed from on high. And, eventually, we found somewhere that didn't fill us with a deep, longing sadness.

Yes, it is sorted now (although the confirmation never came through, now I think of it, so I must chase that), and we need to be at London Bridge by 4am, an on a plane to a tiny Greek island at 6am.


This will be me and my girl's - sorry, wife's first holiday in 5 years, and by far our longest. We are going for ten whole days! I can't quite belive that it is true, but I'll find out soon enough.

Perhaps when I return we will have a new Prime Minister and one less tabloid and so-called "quality" paper to ignore. Perhaps not. But please look after yourselves, and each other, and keep me abreast of anything worth knowing via the comments, and The Channels. I shall be looking in on the ole internets occasionally.

One thing is certain: when I return, you can look forward to The Manga Mixtape, an album/mixtape by me featuring a glorious smorgasbord of new songs and guest appearances from Big Narstie, Marvin The Martian, Time, and a whole host of cool cats. I am looking forward to getting back and putting the final polish on that thing, then letting you have it for the rest of eternity.

But first...