Dearest loved one,
Please, if you have to vomit, do so using the buckets located under your seats. We appreciate your cooperation.Thank you dearly for attending our wedding ceremony. When Courtney and I originally sent out our invitations (the glitter glue and Justin Bieber valentines were her idea), we had no idea that the response would be so overwhelmingly negative -- guess we're just a couple of Polyannas. So thank you for having an open mind about our uncommon relationship, unlike your peers who sent me hate mail, death threats, and court orders to stay at least five miles away from their children. And on this note, please ignore the many policemen stationed around the chapel -- apparently the local townspeople consider me a "monster" and the boys in blue are to descend on me with batons if I lay a hand on my new wife within the confines of this county. Times like these make me wish politicians would keep their laws off my child bride's body.
Heh, guess it's time to get off my soap box and up onto the altar, right? But first, I'm sure the few of you in attendance are wondering what nearly all of my family and friends have asked me multiple times until I stopped returning their calls: "Doug," they would say, "You're 51 and she's 16? Why?" Well, you take one gander at Courtney in that low-cut wedding dress and, well, question answered! Stick two saline implants into a 16 year-old girl and I don't even think the woodland peacock could compete for the prize of "Earth's Sexiest Critter." Sure, those myopic plastic surgeons kept warning us with "We don't know what will happen if we alter a body that's still developing!" My theory: let's wait and see. And as you can see in front of you, it was worth the wait.
Yes, the age thing is an issue. I always like to make the joke that Courtney was born the day I got my first kidney stone. Courtney loves this one, and you wouldn't believe how hard she laughed when I told her what a kidney stone actually was! Boy, 1995 was a crazy year for the Dougster. But seriously, we have more in Every day I wake up I thank my lucky stars I was born in America.common than you'd think. The mall, for instance: I love it! Sure, at first Courtney's friends kept asking "Why does your grandpa keep hanging out with us?" but when I planted a big old smacker on her in front of them, they knew what was what. And then when I asked them to smell my finger -- with the way they carried on screaming, you'd think I just showed them a spider! Ah, but not all children can be as mature as my Courtney, who refuses to see the last Harry Potter movie until she finishes the book. That's my gal.
I'll never forget the day I met my Courtney; a pop fly softball soared into the bushes of her high school's practice field, knocking the camera out of my hand and landing me flat on my butt. Little did I know that the frisky little fox who pulled me to safety would be my future bride -- and an upcoming pop star at that! Seriously, take a listen to her new album "Fun Summer " featuring the (soon-to-be) hit singles "Shiny Weekend Car" and "Makeup Store" and you'll know we've got the next Sheryl Crow on our hands -- er, my hands. And unlike that Rebecca Black, my little Courtney isn't just an incredibly hot body with nothing going on upstairs. She's got a lot to say about the world and we often talk about global issues over tea and Wizards of Waverly Place reruns.
The road we child bride enthusiasts walk is a narrow, lonely one, full of detractors and naysayers who seek to tear down the timeless institution of child marriage. Having a child bride means getting to share important milestones with your wife that would be missed if you married her as an adult, and I plan to be there for Courtney's first car, first drink, and first menstrual cycle. And if anyone stops me on the street to spit in my face -- like so many have done since our wedding announcement was published -- I'll simply pull out a copy of Courtney's "What I Did on My Summer Vacation" report and there'll be a giant, pasted-on image of yours truly with a big old grin on his face. Thank you again for attending this beautiful ceremony in God's home.
This libtard terminator keeps asking for guns that don't exist and I may have to close early out of frustration.
Editor's Note: Due to a freak power outage, this obituary of Barbara Bush was written without the benefit of research. In order to pay our respects to this great woman in a timely fashion, we have decided to post this piece as-is. We hope you forgive any errors on our part.
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