I don’t like cake, especially not moldy cake. So when I go to a wedding and they try to serve cake, I walk away. My fiancé learned the hard way to ride a bike. Her dad put her on the seat, and threw her in a lake with the bike. He saved the bike first because it was expensive and because bikes can’t learn (not yet at least). Today I’m at a royal wedding. The prince of Monaco is an old school mate. His marriage was arranged, by the finest wedding planners in Eastern Europe. It was a beautiful affair, said the bride to be in her vows, describing how her infidelity made her realize she loved the prince. I find that a risky topic to divulge to the man you’re about to marry, especially in front of a priest. Luckily for the prince, he doesn’t speak Latino, so her words are all just beautiful gibberish. Uh oh, out comes the cake. Hopefully I don’t throw this one to the floor, don’t want to ruin another friendship. Double uh oh, my fiancé just walked in. She wanted today to be our wedding. Must’ve slipped my mind. Guess I’m sleeping on the couch tonight, our bed is still in the shop. She does look nice in her wedding dress, I can’t believe she flew all the way over in it. Today’s either going to be a double wedding, or a wedding and a funeral. The princes grandmother is looking very lethargic.