Survival of the deafest

We have returned from the wedding, bloodied but unbowed. Bride and groom were raised on chairs, horas were danced, industrial quantities of food and drink were consumed. Enough passive voice. We got to sit with the grayhairs and I pled my knee on the various forms of violent martial arts with overamplified music. One of Wife's cousins tried to drag me bodily into a conga line but I remembered enough of my Aikido to escape her Chi Na wristlock.

Tomorrow, the peculiar institution of a morning-after brunch for the happy hungover couple.