Last Gasps of Wedding Revelry

Eventually it became late. Like, really late. And those of us still on the island were ferried to a whole new drop spot. I managed to remember my bouquet...or a bouquet, perhaps not the one I actually started out with. I was talking with Mr. Ass last night about what makes so many weddings such a great time, and he said something I believe is always accurate at the best of weddings (and even has a bit of profundity to it): It is not about us. A wedding, its reception, all the events that have led up to the main event and follow it, they're all about two people. All the rest of us can do is support them with celebration and camraderie. A certain 'we're all in this together' mentality that allows quick friendships and easy conversations. I wish life was one big wedding. To that end, I made friends with a number of the guests at T. and L.'s wedding, including the entirety of the bridal party, a substantial share of the groomsmen, T. and L.'s, T.'s UK cousin J., and their friend P. Some smart person brought booze with them on the ferry, and it wasn't me.

At some point after docking our party of 8-10 somehow shrank to 3. We wandered the streets of Portsmouth and managed to get our photograph taken by a stop sign.

We also got to see the sun rise.
Mustachios were also documented.
And tried to make music with traffic cones.
And that, my friends, concludes the wedding festivities. Really just a fantastic all-around time. I'm so happy and pleased for L. and (Fat) T. and the life they will continue to share.