RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Fortress of Awesome Chat Guys, I need some suggestions.

Since you post on Rob's boards as well, I guess I should recite my dream here too.

655321, I thought about you a lot after I logged off last night. I had to struggle to tear myself away from my computer since I was so reluctant to stop talking to you. As I result, I ended up sitting in my room staring at the wall suffering a kind of love withdrawal period until I passed out from exhaustion. While I was asleep on the floor, I had a dream that we were married under a cloud cover of chocolate rain clouds. The RKMBs handled the decorations while afcore was busy with the catering and the Insurgency forums were screaming at the gate desperate to witness our binding together in holy matrimony. While Rob Kamphausen usually handled gay marriages, he decided that he'd marry us as a favor for the many times he called me to purchase some desitin for him when he was too sore to get out of bed and walk to the pharmacy.

Since Bsams was the one who inevitably brought us together, I felt it only right that he act as the best man while, for some reason, Miguel was your maid of honor (I was expecting Minorgrey to be quite honest). And you were dressed in this ravishing gown covered with obscure anime references and adorable lower case "k"s that preceded the "lol" acronym.

You could tell that afcore had spear-headed the decor and floral arrangements as one couldn't walk three steps without encountering buttresses and pastels that were pock-marked with 4chan slang, repetitive anime gifs, and viral YouTube clip references. This clashed with the insular self-referential joke and running gag themes of the wedding cake and the chicken Parmesan--I remember how thrilled you were to sample the semen content of the éclairs. This juxtaposition of habits between our two families served as a testament to our Romeo and Juliet-esque union and allowed everyone to see how heroic our love was in how it overcame all differences and obstacles.

When the ceremony began, we had agreed to read our own vows. You promised to be as contrarian and violently socialist in my presence as possible so as to make our sexual habits all the more energetic; to turn up the volume of your Linkin Park, Green Day, Bad Religion, Pennywise, and SotD albums while I watched the news to remind me how much of a narco Republican square I am; to polish your strap-ons in plain sight whenever my mother came over; to steadily feed me consistent doses of arsenic each day when preparing my raisin bran.

My promises were a tad different. I promised to call you gay every single day in hopes of subconsciously encouraging you to agree to a threesome and have you make out with another woman; to say, "I WIN" after each orgasm; to cyber with you while I'm at work busy toiling against the very political elements you want to succeed; to hide your insulin shots from you on a daily basis after you contract diabetes on our wedding night; to pay you one cent a day for picking my strawberry fields in your barefeet.

Then Rob said, "You may now push each other's cocks together," which, I guess, came from his many years of experience conducting gay marriage. Not knowing what else to do, we awkwardly rubbed our pelvises up against each other and proceeded with the reception. At that point I immediately woke up.

*sigh* It was beautiful.