The wedding weekend was a perfect way to gear up for three weeks of partying in Europe. It was great to see so many old friends and let them know that we'll be using them as emergency contacts after scenes from the film Hostel (That's Kendrew at the 0:29 mark) have been re-enacted on us.
Some other preparations that we made:
In order to make some cash for the trip, I -- Frandrew -- ate a spider. Five bucks from Novak later, Kendrew has yet to pony up the thirty he promised me. It's okay; I know where he'll be for the next three weeks.
To answer some FAQ's about spider-eating:
1. It tastes just like leaves.
2. I knew it wasn't poisonous because it didn't have any bright colors on it. (Bear Grylls, eat your heart out.)
3. Yes, as always, it was well worth it.
Kendrew's best man speech drew rave reviews. (No, really.) Some highlights: calling Brent "the stereotypical chubby kid we tried to hide behind the plate at catcher," mentioning his own bachelor status roughly thirty-nine times (Wonder if that came in handy later on...), and adding just enough touching comments without being sappy. Good work, Ken (temporarily minus the -drew).
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