Alright, I know I write way too much about weddings, but I should have produced at least three more columns about weddings, or at least, the weddings I was supposed to go to.

To read about my drunken escapades with My Kids at Tito's wedding, check this out.

This year alone I received about eight wedding invitations and knew of about six or seven more. I don't know what's in the air in 2008, but apparently my friends want to marry like crazy. My first NYU Swim Team buddy got married last weekend, and I skipped it like I skipped the last three weddings I RSVP'd for.

I missed three nuptials for three pretty good reasons.

Second was to be "A Favor for a Favor." One of my ex-girlfriends, The LA-Ex (get it? It's okay if you don't because it's a shitty joke) from NYU needed a date for an NYC wedding. I thirsted for a lay so I agreed to be her date for this wedding if she came to my cousin's wedding in California as my date. This particular ex was a bridesmaid (and I've never banged a bridesmaid before, that was the reason I wanted to set this up).

LA-Ex lives in LA now, duh. She was supposed to stay at my Pee Slope apartment over the weekend of the wedding, but ended up crashing all over town. Not a big deal.

A female is only born into the Freeman family every other generation, so this was sure to be a bountiful party and family reunion.By the day of the wedding I managed to get a bit of the stomach flu. I showed up two hours late to the wedding. If you think Roman Catholic weddings are long, this was an Indian wedding (dot, not feather) and it lasted forever. Or at least, I'm sure it did. I felt so shitty I ended up leaving an hour after I arrived. The wedding was still only about half over. A six-hour wedding? I know marriages that haven't lasted that long. The stomach flu compiled with the incense, crazy language, disgusting NYC heat and general not wanting to be there made me decide that this was not a wedding I belonged in. So I left the temple or tower or whatever, hailed a taxi and called it quits.

The next one was "Killer Times." This was the biggest wedding of the season for me. The bride and groom rank as two of my favorite people on the planet. I was sort of there when they met. They allowed me to be their first houseguest. I consistently try to steal Leah away from Sterny but it never works. I looked forward to this wedding all year long. Actually, the eight years they've dated I've known this would be a badass party weekend, so I've been pumped for this wedding for a while.

Instead of attended "Killer Times," the night before I thought it would be a good idea to take a dive off of a boat dock and nearly killed myself. It's okay, there was alcohol and naked girls involved. So while my best friends tied the knot, I fought for my life. Actually, the doctors fought for my life, I just laid there. Luckily, nobody told Leah until the next day, otherwise I would have ruined a wedding that was eight years in the making.

Finally, there was "A Freeman Affair." A female is only born into the Freeman family every other generation, and this August my cousin Brooke was getting married in sunny Bakersfield, California. This was also sure to be a bountiful party and family reunion. Unfortunately, my grandparents aren't as young and healthy as they used to be so this might have been my last chance to see them. This was the wedding I was supposed to attend with The LA-Ex. But I decided I wanted to sit at home to recover from a massive injury and surgery rather than drink whiskey with my Grandpa Bob and smoke weed with my two little brothers in a Vegas bathroom. I know, I'm a frikkin' pussy.

Fret not "Brides" subscribers. Even though I missed last weekend's wedding "How to Get Married the Scientific Method Way" I'm already hearing rumors and news about future weddings. So far for "Deez Nupts 2009" there's "A Pack of Winstons" and a few other super-secret plans. Hopefully I won't get sick or die at any of them, but it's entirely possible both can happen since I've done some of the most maniacal and drunken things ever at weddings.

Oh, and little old me? Even though I thoroughly enjoy writing about them and drinking during them, I have no plans to get married any time soon. I care as much about the election in Luxemburg as I do about my future wedding. Unless it's to Megan Fox, then I totally care.

Drunk textWeekly Drunk Text:
So my internet hunting skills paid off. I found those chicks.
-Wam
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