Yet another person gets the finger. For what reason we do not know.
"I feel pretty, oh so pretty, and gay." Yep.
Here's Pete's wedding band. And yet another middle finger. The finger model is the maid of honor, Laura.
The Imperial Guards Ladies' Auxilary marches to get on the bus. Mark is some sort of Sith Lord, since Pete is the Emperor today ....
Gretchen and Lauren enjoy Lauren's first bus ride.
Lauren. Looking like she's blocking something or other, but I don't know what exactly it might be.
Good times
Good times
Best cake topper .... ever.
Mmmm, cake. Te-Wei is a good sport because he poses for me at every wedding ..... with the same pose.
The word of the Dungeon Master, ladies and gentlemen. The word of the Dungeon Master.
Pete and Maura took dance classes for their wedding. You can tell they studied hard, just like back in engineering school when they had to work out problem set after problem set. I'm just jealous because all I did at my wedding was sway side to side the same way I'd done since the junior prom. The reflection off the floor is cool, too. Maybe I can Photoshop Erin and myself into the photo and make it look like our wedding. Oh, but that's just pathetic.
Ron gives the best impromptu meal blessing ever.
Meg enjoys a nice refreshing glass of wine.
You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your friend's noses ... but in this case George seems amenable. Besides, that saying is SO last century.
Rendered speechless by the glow of the wedding cake in the background, Matt and Meg make "mmmm" noises and fall under it's spell. Actually I found out later that the "wedding cake" was merely a prop, where the top was the only real cake and the remaining layers were cardboard. I was duped, but the cake was rather yummy. So I guess I don't mind that much. Good show, Pete and Maura!
Actually, the hollow wedding cake reminds me of the scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" where they sing the "Camelot" song and end with "it's only a model". If we had sung a song about Pete and Maura's wedding cake, it could end the same way.
More dancing. I think this was the tarantella. Or maybe the foxtrot. Or perhaps the samba. I don't know. This was after George bought me a Scotch.
Kissy kissy.
I told Maura that if she went missing, this was the photo I was going to hand over to the news team. It's certainly superior to the usual creased high school yearbook photo they usually drag out.
Pete Hollmer: The next Harrson Ford? Who knows, he may run into Lucas on the honeymoon out in San Fran. If he can get past his infatuation with why the Clone Wars were called the Clone Wars, maybe George will hook him up.
That's all folks!