A Whole New World

Today, on my last 25th-day-of-the-month as a bachelor, I learned a very important lesson:

Just because a Vicodin pill happens to be from a prescription filled in early 2001 does not mean it's not wondrously, perfectly and indisputably effective at making everything -- from a malingering toothache, to fifty pounds of laundry on a sunny day, to planning a wedding, to getting financially raped and pillaged by the drycleaner altering one's wedding suit -- feel just a little bit less mentally oppressive.

If anyone's looking for me at the wedding, I'll be the vacant-eyed addict laying facedown on the lawn and pulling on my cheeks to see if they're real or not.