So Jen and I are in Texas, a state which apparently holds a deep and sordid hatred for me.  See, I'm sick.  Not dying-in-the-hospital sick but sick, nonetheless.  And it's cold.  And wet.  And in the past week, we've moved ten thousand pounds of knick-knacks across Texas which, it turns out, takes approximately 7,000 hours to drive through, the whole time praying we don't plow into some random cow or windmill.  Oh yeah... did I mention Jen's a bit grumpy?
So I'm doing today's wreck, and I'm pretty much just gonna rant.  Let me set the stage:
Expensive wedding in the Philippines.
The finest catering.
The perfect beach setting.
And this:

I know, right?  I feel the same way.  But what I want to know is how hard is it, when you're on a freaking tropical island, to find fruit that isn't so close to being rotten that it makes your kids tipsy.  And what's with the icing?!?  I've iced a few cakes in my time and I've never seen anything like that.  I take that back.  Last week, my cat licked my shmeared bagel when I wasn't looking and it looked a lot like that.  I mean seriously people!
*propping self up in hotel bed*
And another thing!
...
Nah... that's enough.  Just one last thing:  I've met a ton of Texans while I've been here and one thing is true of them all: they're all so stinkin' nice.  What I want to know is how do you stay that way when your state is constantly trying to KILL YOU?!?!?!?!
*ABLEMFTHPTHGAK!!!*