Message: 36554063, 52 lines
 Posted: 10:07am EDT, Mon Jun 27/94, imported: 10:07am EDT, Mon Jun 27/94
 Subject: Ahab's diary, nunber 49
 To: Kris Fazzari, thari@umich.edu
 From: jlarke@us.itd.umich.edu
 
 	It's a pretty sad state of affairs when a nice young
 man like myself can't look at his Mom and two favorite aunts
 without being reminded of prostitutes. On the other hand,
 every experience carries with it the hazard of
 post-traumatic stress syndrome. It's just that some traumas
 you mind, and some you really don't object to at all.
 
 	We pause at this point to mention that Julian has a
 wicked sense of humor.
 
 	My bachelor party never happened, OK? I am not aware
 of any such activities taking place or having taken place,
 and I would not be disposed to discuss such activities if I
 did have knowledge of them. There were emphatically *not*
 three whores named Knife, Fork, and Goblet, and we certainly
 did *not* do a wide variety of things that much have
 required several hours of afternoon limbering-up on their
 part. Foster didn't end up with a very suprised look on his
 face, and I never once saw Felix head off into the bushes
 instead of taking his punishment in public like a man. Nope.
 None of that stuff ever happened.
 
 	One can only assume that the butt floss left in our
 quarters when I got back was an artifact of something that
 never happened to Kimbdyl, as well.
 
 	The wedding was everything I would have expected
 from Flora. Even Random and Corwin's little embellishments
 just added character to what I must honestly describe as one
 of the happiest days of my life. I may never again see
 Kimbdyl look so wonderful. Not that she doesn't look good
 all the time, but the expression on her face.... you've
 either been there, in which case you know what I mean, or
 you haven't, in which case you aren't qualified to express
 an opinion.
 
 	I borrowed one of Flora's tactics for Vetch. He
 showed up at the wedding, of course, although Ariana implied
 it was just to keep an eye on her- her water broke at a
 mildly inconvenient time. (Although I suppose any earlier
 would have been even less convenient.) In any case I decided
 that the thing to do when some asshole kidnapper crashes
 your wedding (and eludes the guy you send to kill him), your
 best move is to declare moral superiority by being
 scrupulously polite to him. I took Kimbdyl to see him and
 Ariana, and he & Kimbdyl chatted psychically while Ariana
 and I bickered irrelevantly. After which we said our
 good-byes and went back to my room.
 
 	I don't think there's any need to describe what
 happened next, except to say that *you'll* never have it so
 good. If you did, you wouldn't be reading this crap.