shot-gun

it was just a small civil ceremony. and the other party wasn't the one mentioned in earlier, swooning terms. i, myself (faithless wench), was barely invited, so don't be too offended that you were not. for the real one, we'll gather everyone. there will be dancing.

now we divide up chores, practise effective communication, settle a budget—and otherwise learn to live with one another.

they say that this sort of event causes one to confront and o'erleap all sorts of greatest fears and inhibitions; in that case, it shouldn't be long before i am jumping curbs.

no amount of obligatory prosaicness, however, will temper the central reason, and that which goes straight to my heart, by way of knees: this bike has the best brakes of any i've seen.