We got to our honeymoon suite at about 2 in the morning, raided the ultra-deluxe mini-bar of it's signature Pacific-Northwest snacks and then passed out.
My wife's wedding dress, comprised of 8000 square yards of fabric, several hundred thousand buttons and lacking a user manual, proved a sufficient deterrent to wedding night hanky-panky, being slightly more difficult to breach than a bank vault. Had it not cost slightly less than our house I would have used a Sawzall to get her out of it.
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100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.
