I totally SWEAR that I was going to write something about the wedding, or the honeymoon, or something today, but I just haven’t gotten around to it. Mrs. ACW (or, alternatively, ACWW, or My Old Lady) and I kept a journal during the trip, and I wanted to grab that to make sure I didn’t miss any details while relating our HILARIOUS and SEXY adventures. Like the fact that during our flight from Baltimore to Rekjavik we were seated in front of three kids who seemed to be having a contest to see which one of them could convert their seat-back kicking into a full cranial/rectal inversion, compliments of me.
And I’ve been meaning to post some pictures too, but I keep forgetting to bring the camera into work, and I’m not exactly sure how many pictures of me in a saddle while Mrs. ACW drops hot wax onto my ass (we hired a Scottish local to take the pictures (yes, he kept his kilt on the whole time (no, we didn’t “see his bagpipes”))) you’d want to see, so it’s going to take some time to get those pictures up.
In the mean time, I will say this: If you can find a way to get large quantities of Irn Bru into this country, Mrs. ACW would pay you handsomely, as she is now hooked on the junk.
