I got thinking about weddings today.

Specifically, mine. A little backstory: A couple of years ago, I asked the (then) Potential Future Mrs. Wonderhorse if she would want to get all wedded. She said yes. Thinking ahead as I am wont to do, I realized I should probably be a little more specific. I then asked if she would want to get all wedded to me. I could see the gears turning, figuring out if she had any better options. Frankly, that made perfect sense to me. I would have to give the idea of me marrying me a good long hard look too, if I were her. Trust me, I'm no catch. Luckily (at least for me), she said why not, and here we are - The Potential Mrs. Wonderhorse became The Future Mrs. Wonderhorse. The date has been set, the location secured. Now comes the hard part: the guest list.

We both agreed we want to keep it relatively small, so that means a lot of people are unfortunately going to be left on the side of the road.

AUNT BERNICE: Sorry, you are not invited. We like you, in fact, the feelings almost border on something that could possibly be identified as something akin to love, but you smell like Meow Mix. Besides, I'm pretty sure United has some sort of rule about bringing 75 cats with you in your carry-on luggage.

UNCLE DAVE:  Sorry, Dave, I can't do it. I realize you are Aunt Ruth's husband and all, but your propensity for removing your pants even skeeves me out. Maybe if you threw a pair of jockeys on under there just to mix it up for a change,  it wouldn't be as big of an issue. However, I know you won't. Besides, I know the only thing you like more than walking around without pants is standing extremely close to cake.

BILL, THE GUY I WENT TO GRAMMAR SCHOOL WITH: Bill, you're an idiot. Anyone who loves FOX News as much as you is clearly unstable. The only reason I have any contact with you is because you tracked me down on Facebook. Granted, your Lando Calrissian impression was pretty good back in the day, but that was 25 years ago. If Billy Dee Williams is our sole common bond, rest assured, you will not be doing the Funky Chicken with me anytime soon.

COUSIN RANDY: You're  36 years old, and your nose is always running. Dude, seriously, get a fucking Kleenex. You're worse than a three-year-old. For as long as I've known you, your nostrils are always raw and crusty. Plus, your hands are always sticky, and I really don't want to know why.

MARY JANE, FRIEND OF THE FUTURE MRS. WONDERHORSE: Mary, don't take this the wrong way, but you're a slut. I mean, really, you are the walking community jizz jar. I don't want you anywhere near Great Grandma Wonderhorse. Just shaking your hand will probably knock a few months off her life, and we just can't take that chance.

JOHN, GUY I WORK WITH: Honestly, I just don't know you. Yeah, I realize we've worked beside each other for like 3 years now, but I don't know anything about you. I mean, other than you really like mayonaise and you don't like me using "your" copier. Technically, John, it actually isn't your copier. I didn't see you whip out your checkbook when it arrived, so deal with it, and stop giving me the stink-eye when I hit the double-sided button. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised if you spend your off-hours as a clown or as a serial killer. I would be even less surprised if you were a hybrid of the two.

MY SECOND COUSIN EARL: I know what you did, Earl. There's no way in hell you're coming out here.

MR. SHULTZ, FRIEND OF MY DAD: Look, Mr. Shultz, you're a nice enough guy. Believe me, I never get tired of the ol' Pull My Finger trick. But I remember you at my sister's wedding. First off, no one wants to see you put olives on all ten fingers and all ten toes. They certainly don't want to see you then drop them in your martini. Second, I'd rather not subject the Future Mrs. Wonderhorse to your continuous talks about your "boner problem", as you put it. She, nor any of her friends, will be interested in helping you with those issues. Save your money, and go meet up with Mary Jane.

BEA ARTHUR: I know, I know. It's hard, but you have to realize I've moved on. You broke my heart, but I'm happy now, and honestly, it would just be a little awkward having you there. I'll always look back on our time in Berlin with the Maharshi with fondness. Anytime I hear someone with a smoker's hack and a penchant for muu-muus, I'll think of you and what might have been. Fly away, fly away.

Coming Soon- The Nuptials: Picking the Band Via Guitar Hero