Burger World + A Very Special Anniversary Edition!

I know I’m not the only one who has to choke back a warm clump of vomit every time somebody says I married my best friend! 

O RLY?

Because, are you really unique for marrying your best friend? Did the rest of us marry assholes? Tramps? Serial killers? Our moms? Let me tell you something: if you want to say the most disingenuous, sad, cliche, patronizing load of horseshit and sound as if you’ve never had a good, hard honest thought all on your own, tell us that you married your best friend.

Oh hey, did I mention on September 17, 2005 I MARRIED MY PRINCE CHARMING?!?!

Look how cute we used to be!

We honeymooned in the Caribbean.

Photo stolen from Captain Marvin’s Stingray City Tours of Grand Cayman.

For our first anniversary we rented a cabin in Brown County, Indiana where we spent the entire weekend drinking vodka in the hot tub.

Oh, to be young…

Now let’s skip ahead four years for the purposes of I don’t have any anniversary photos from those years.

Fifth anniversary! We flew to Germany and spent a week drinking beer and pretending to be German. (Seriously, I look German as fuck. I belong there. People like me there.)

The trip was sort of our last hurrah as non-parents. My husband actually wanted to start trying while we in Germany; I responded with a look of sheer horror at the suggestion that I would willingly spend a whole week in Germany NOT DRINKING on the off chance that I might begin gestating there.

Here’s me not gestating.

And then there was our sixth, mostly memorable because I was three months from popping the kid and my ass protruded almost as much as my belly. Yet I somehow found enough space in my cluttered and baby-ridden gut to cram a steak and potatoes. We used an Orbitz voucher and shacked up at the Marriot.

Me gestating. Apparently I never saw fit to photograph my dear husband because frankly last year it was all about me. I mean it was all about the fetus. Totes the fetus.

This year for our seventh we were going to go out to a fancy Greek kitchen, but what happened was that last week we went to this local burger joint that ended up being kind of shitty. They boasted great burgers and craft beer; what we got was stale buns, dry overcooked meat and nothing but macros on tap. The experience left us feeling so cheated and unfulfilled that we decided a good burger was much more important than dolmathes and lamb. I did have two glasses of wine with dinner. But when you’re having burger joint wine at $4 a glass and it’s only 5:30 because your baby goes to bed at 7:00, you can afford to have two.

Here’s to me and you, HUBZ, and to 70 more years of burgers and wine. ❤ ❤ ❤

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25 thoughts on “Burger World + A Very Special Anniversary Edition!

  1. Congrats! I’m always pretty sad when I have bad pizza or beer. It’s a total waste of calories. And yet I still eat it because you can’t waste food.

    (I’ve tried really hard to avoid any talks of marrying my best friend, but I’m gonna start calling him The Husband on my blog. Can’t abandon all the clichés.)

  2. I totally married an asshole. Wait. He married an asshole. I would have married my best friend if Illinois legalized gay marriage, and if that bitch hadn’t gotten married before me.

    Anyboob, congratulations!

  3. barf. also bad pizza and bad beer and bad burgers are awful. I cannot waste calories on such shizz. I married a guy I really liked, but wouldn’t have called him either my best friend OR my prince charming. He is pretty awesome, though. Maybe I will call him my SOUL MATE. ha.

    • If you go, Rick Steves’ book is fantastic Loved your Oktoberfest photos, they have a Germanfest here every year (with a 5k AND Dachshund race oompa bands and beer!) but we’ll be out of town this year 😦

  4. Happy anniversary! I don’t really have best friends, so I couldn’t have married mine. I just have a few good ones.

    In Spain, people sometimes think I’m German, but mostly just American (which I am, so that’s bo-ring). They never think I’m Spanish. I lack the dark hair/dark eyes and good fashion sense.

  5. Congrats! Your rant about the crappy burger joint reminds me of this place that recently opened, which was boasting a big menu of craft beer. However, their craft beer was actually “craft beer,” such as Shock Top. HA!

    • Ha! Yep, that’s one of the “craft beers” they had at this place too. Typical.

      What’s funny is that we went there specifically because it was local, but the Red Robin across the street was 100x better.

  6. Happy Anniversary!

    Nothing worse than the promise of delicious beers and burgers, only to be disappointed. I get much more stabby when we go out now and the result is lackluster. These babysitters are hard to come by.

    We should be friends for serious though…my BFF HUBZ and I be sure to include alcohol for every anniversary, even this year for our big 5 year outing – a sushi lunch!

  7. I’m still single so you know I won’t throw any cliches at you…except that I’M IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH SOMEONE I LOVE- MYSELF! Squee!

    Happy anniversary, you crazy kids!

  8. Congrats, my dear. You two are wonderful together. From the few hours I’ve spent with you guys, anyway… that counts, right?

    I can’t marry my best friend. She doesn’t have a penis. hmm.

  9. O M G. This post has inspired so much from me.

    Yeah, that “I married my best friend” crap is gay (oops).

    Who are those handsome people hiding behind those two full sexy beer steins? Oh, that’s you guys? You know that Sam Adams is currently holding a nationwide “Stein Hoist” competition? I bet you’d contend for the winning hoist. Check it out.

    I’ll skip the preg pics. I have my own, LOL. One for every week after 3 months.

    You should call out that poser burger and craft beer joint.

    I love all Beavis and Butthead, so nice close. Skip the wine and drink more beer!

    Oh, and I wanted to tell you I ran to the fence and back with my 5 year old little league team, so I’m a runner now!

    • Oh shit. I forgot about that asshole Ray that missed the food I was trying to feed it and sucked an enormous hickey on my wrist! At least it wasn’t the one that Steve Irwin was playing with.

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