After nearly twenty years with The Hot Comma Momma, I have decided to make an honest woman out of her.
Already, I know a host of husbands are leaning closer to their screens; anxious to discover what manner of experimental therapy I have pioneered borrowed from Doctor Toboggans to deliver such breathtaking results.
This task, one that many would say required an army of specialists, psychiatrists, and a thorough submersion in truth serum, has been accomplished with the most unassuming of treatments: Facebook.
After untold months of godless cohabitation, our social profiles were at last joined in networking matrimony.
Here is a firsthand account of the whole affair:
I am thinking about holding the reception on Flickr or maybe Twitter.
MySpace offered to host it, and their rates are reasonable, but illiterate teenage drama gives me a rash.