LAS VEGAS–I hate text messages, but sometimes I love them. For example, last week Fawcett sent me:
Just saw cloutier at Rio buffet…breakfast of champions.
Good stuff, Scott. You may become a quality blogger after all.
Then, just a few minutes ago, I got a text from Lori the Dealer:
Hey, it\’s lori! I\’m in vegas, I\’m getting married in 2 hours. Those that are here please come join us, otherwise c-ya back home!
Wow. So, um, congratulations, Lori. (!) (?) May the bonds of true love — sealed before Elvis — sweep you through eternity and lead to everlasting bliss. Seriously, congrats. He must be a lucky fella. For everyone else, you have breakfast to stop her.
UPDATE: In response to my text saying, \”to whom?!?\”, she replies:
I just met him. It was part of gus and I\’s deal to come here. Get drunk and marry a random person.
Ahh, now it makes more sense. Granted, husband-to-be still doesn\’t have a name, but really … when it comes to pure love, does that really matter?
ALT HED: Dewey Defeats Truman! Bluffing?