The Royal Wedding

(Tip: for maximum enjoyment of this post, read out loud in stuffy British accent).

Well, It's time. The planets have aligned and the sun is calm, and I played tetris.

I got a whopping 163,496 points.

Now, I'm not going to have a spaz about this. I'm going to be very, very calm. Like the sun. I'm not going to panic. Even though this might be a new world record. Don't panic. Don't panic! DON'T PANIC! NOBODY PANIC!!!!!!!

Anyway, here's a tidbit of information you might be interested in: There's a Royal Wedding on, chap! And as you all know, we Americans have a long and proud tradition of loving British royalty.

Well, all the reporters of the west are flocking to London, where they're apparently 'guests of honor' or something. Which leaves only two disgruntled reporters here in America: Me and Stephen Colbert, who planned his trip very carefully only to not receive an invitation. So, in the interest of not being excluded, I have a plan.

I'm crashing the royal wedding.

Yeah, I know. Sounds crazy doesn't it? But it's time for G-FORCE UK, CHUCK! I'll visit Big Ben, make funny faces at the palace guards, and treat myself to breakfasts of tea and scrambled faberge eggs. I'll actually be going to England and France in the summer, but I guess I'll have to visit a little early. And Stephen? It's okay to tag along if you want.

Goodbye, I say!