There are few things in life worth describing with multiple exclamation points.

The art of dipping things into delectable melted cheeses and chocolates is most certainly one of them…

I mean, seriously … melted cheese – who knew?!

And more importantly, for those of you who did have previous knowledge of this delectable phenomenon, what’d the rest of us ever do to you to have you holding out on us?!  When you discover an incredible, new way of eating, much like when you watch a hilarious movie or find a new way to drive someplace that’ll get you there really fast, it’s your responsibility to share those findings with the ones that you love!

But let’s just put all of that aside, as now is a time for celebration of the newfound culinary brilliance that is the world of fondue.  I mean, seriously – show me something more enjoyable than sticking stuff in cheese and I’ll show you a guy who didn’t consider the sexual innuendo of that last statement prior to putting it down on paper!  It seems so simple, so obvious – like taking the concept of nachos and kicking it up a notch, but in a sophisticated sort of way that makes people want to dress up and make a night out of it as opposed to something that one might enjoy in a ragged, old t-shirt on the couch in front of the TV.  Then again, if you’re anything like me, you have no qualms about doing either – really, cheese is cheese…

For me, I first found myself plunged into this magnificent melted world while my wife and I were planning our wedding.  In fact, I would dare say that it was one of the best things to come out of said nuptials … except for that whole “love you forever, ‘til death do us part” thing, of course!  Anyways, our very first taste was, in fact, during one of those same night out-ish scenarios – a bit of bread and cheese, a savoring selection of meats, and culminating with a wide array of succulent sweets all just begging to be dunked in that warm bubbly chocolate – and all of that was only the beginning!  Since then, we also enjoyed the rehearsal dinner for our actual wedding at a local fondue establishment and even managed to scoop up a fondue pot of our very own as a wedding gift of epic proportions.  From that point on, we’ve just never looked back … both with our undying affections and this crazy, little thing called fondue, mind you!

These days, I still certainly wouldn’t call myself anything even close to a fondue expert, however I am making an effort to put plenty of hours into that pot of ours to help build on my own knowledge like a smooth bullion stock.  And as with most do-it-yourself-after-watching-a-trained-professional-type projects, some attempts have certainly left me more encouraged than others, but hey, as they say, cheddar isn’t aged in a day, am I right?!

That said, if I could pass along just six tips based on my own personal fondue-ing experiences thus far, they’d probably look a little something like this…

• The more unpronounceable the names of cheeses that recipes call for, the more delicious the final fondue will be … despite the sad truth that many will seem damn near impossible to find at your local grocery store.
• Cheese fondues with a beer or wine base make it all the more easier to get drunk during dinner with a minimal number of mixed drinks on the side.
• Eating an entire meal that consists of melted everything leaves many an opportunity to scald the inside of one’s mouth.
• The responsibility of cooking your own meat right there at the table will likely result in overcooking just about everything … at least if you fear salmonella half as much as I do.
• The human body is ill-equipped for digesting mass quantities of cheese in a single sitting – plan accordingly.
• It’s simply not possible to name a dessert that can’t be improved by submersing it in chocolate fondue.

Of course, at the end of the day, the best way to enjoy a good fondue is to just dive right in – pun intended – and don’t stop sampling until you run out of cheese or chocolate.  Yes, seriously, dunk anything and everything that will fit into the pot – dinner rolls, those starlight mints they bring you at the end of the meal, scraps from other dinners that you happen to still have in your purse for reasons I don’t even want to know why.  In the wonderful world of fondue, you’re really only limited by your own imagination and the greediness of the other people you’re dining with, so just stick it in and see what happens!

Again with the unintentional sexual innuendo?!  I really need to get that looked at before next week’s column…

If last week was the awesomest that wedding planning had to offer, then I think I might go so far as to say that flower planning is just about the antithesis of cake planning, at least in my book. And it’s not that I didn’t have a good time, I guess it’s just that if I never have to spend another minute of my life shopping for flowers, I think I’ll still be ok. And my bride-to-be shant not even worry – I don’t mind the occasional bouquet either in celebration or because I did something stupid, but as far as planning floral arrangements on an event level, just pick whatever you think looks best because I’m done…

For all of you florists out there in the audience, it probably hurts a little to hear this, but I’m sure it’s something that you kind of already know – you’re job just really isn’t all that interesting! I mean, I guess it works ok for you, but are you the kind of person who rushes home after work to watch the Oprah that you recorded that afternoon over a Lean Cuisine microwave dinner and a glass of iced tea? I thought so, but there’s really no need to feel ashamed or anything – at least not about the iced tea – for without you, there’d be nobody to remind the rest of us how interesting our lives are! It’s just the circle of life, or the circle of boredom, so to speak. Nothing personal.

Anyways, we dedicated a good bit of time last week to searching out floral arrangements to be worn or carried or made into hats or something for our wedding. I don’t know – I honestly wasn’t really paying attention after the first seven hours of rosy fun, but from what I understand, the crown of sunflowers and daffodils that I’m to wear during the ceremony is going to look very nice! I didn’t ask if they’re also going to get me the matching corncob scepter to go along with the crown, but knowing how color-coordinated everything else has to be with this thing, it certainly wouldn’t surprise me to be waving my sceptre of corn into the air, fending off seagulls as my beautiful bride walks down that aisle with her buckwheat bouquet! You know what they say – you only get to look like a complete fool at your own wedding once…

Any instances after that are just sad.

Maybe if they just weren’t so expensive, I wouldn’t mind the fact that I couldn’t really care less about them, but like everything else that we’ve signed official contract-y things for throughout the planning process, apparently it just doesn’t truly depict our undying love for one another unless we limp away from the table wondering, “How many more kidneys are we going to have to sell to pay for all of this?!” Which, at least as far as the flowers were concerned, is kind of a shame because in between the actual flower shops that we visited, we also passed some very nice cemeteries that even from the road looked rather promising! They were all pretty large, so they should have a great variety and really no problems coordinating with the rest of our theme, and they were even right on the way from our house to the hotel, so it would be no trouble at all to simply stop off on our way over and grab bouquets for the bride and her bridesmaids, a few single flowers to turn into boutonnières for the guys – who knows, maybe even my royal scepter!

But alas, just like my idea to hire a one-man-band didn’t fly for the evening’s entertainment, my great, cost-saving cemetery floral plan got overruled in favor of one of those “actual” (read “boring”) florists. So we’ll see how it goes – Tales from the Crypt bouquets or not, they’re still just boring flowers, so if anybody needs me, I’ll be pouting over by the cake…

Scott has been waiting for this day for a long time, my friends!

So long that it’s got him speaking in the third person and it doesn’t even phase him in the least, and being the prolific writer that he is, he usually tries to steer away from sneaky antics like that, but well, I guess it pretty much goes without saying that chocolate can do funny things to people and at the end of the day our hero here is still only human.

Sorry about that, folks, but like the guy said, being a mere human who certainly isn’t immune to the sensual tauntings that chocolate has been known to set forth, I’ve really been looking forward to this part of the wedding planning process! Sure, the search for the venue itself was well worth it once we finally found someplace that didn’t require two arms and a leg to host our event for the evening (studies show that couples who don’t give their various appendages to pay for their weddings are much happier once they begin their married lives together). The tasting that said venue later gave us to sample the menu that will be served on our big night was certainly a highlight, too, but nonetheless the best of the best still can’t hold a candle to dessert!

The cake that we’re planning for our wedding is going to be packed with an extra helping of awesome, though, because we’ve enlisted my family’s very own cake-baking all-star, my Mom, to bake this delectable masterpiece herself. The design, of course, ties back into the general theme that we’ve chosen for our gathering, meaning that this bountiful pastry will be covered with seashells and coral and all sorts of other goodies found under the sea…or at least chocolate and sugar representations of them. I guess the real thing would be kind of gross, now that you mention it…

So while the “exterior” of this heavenly treat is pretty much in the bank, this weekend we’re faced with quite arguably an even greater task – determining what’s to be found underneath all of that delicious frosting and chocolate and multi-colored sugar. And oh, with so many choices – white chake, chocolate cake, yellow cake, strawberry cake, swirl cake …crème filling, fudge filling, fruit filling, merengue filling – I don’t know about you, but my mouth is a-waterin’ just thinking about it! By my approximations, we’re looking at roughly 843,000 cake and filling combinations, meaning that both A) the chances of my losing weight prior to this wedding are decreasing by about 843,000 : 1; and B) this is going to be the best part of the wedding planning process, hands down! I mean, not that choosing napkin colors or stationery shades for the invitations hasn’t been great and all, but stacked up against double-chocolate-swirl cake with a rich filling of fresh strawberries, all buried underneath a dentist-enraging mountain of fudge frosting, those linens never really stood much of a chance anyways…

I know, it’s going to be a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it, and seeing as I’ve got a good 27 years of birthday-cake-eating experience under my belt (and sadly also over my belt at this point…), I think I’m more than qualified to give this important task the dudiligence that it deserves!

If you don’t hear from me next week, chances are a sugar-induced coma got the best of me, but at least know that I went out with a smile on my face and at least three pounds of Mom’s incredible fudge frosting in my belly! Mmmm – said that way, it really doesn’t sound that bad…

I’ve never really been very good with bugs in and around our home, but if you’ve been reading for this column for any length of time you’re well aware of that creepy, crawly bit of truth. Over the years, I’ve endured everything from ants to cockroaches, wasps to spiders, and there was even that one time with the giant, radioactive scorpions … nah, just kidding. I was just checking to make sure that you were paying attention, and besides, we don’t even have giant, radioactive scorpions here in Florida. Not officially, anyways…

You can tell that the big problem probably stems from my watching entirely too many horrible monster movies growing up. I’ve found that I’m not so much worried about taking care of the single insect that’s at hand at the time, but shortly after I always end up worrying that the big momma of said bug whom I just exterminated is going to show up looking to settle the family score with me, like when I’m doing dishes and find it amusing to wash the itsy, bitsy spider that’s wandered into the sink down the drain with the sprayer, only to then wonder through the remainder of the dishes whether or not a giant, fuzzy spider the size of a breadbox is going to creep forth from the drain and send me to a watery death of my own…

…or when I find a random wasp that’s wandered into our bathroom and take him out with several well-placed blows of the nearest wedding planning encyclopedia, only to think that the next time I return home after a long, hard day at work, I’ll find that my home has been transformed into a massive nest for giant, killer wasps and I’m about to be turned into wasp-food for their little swarm of babies who have turned our guest bedroom into some sort of creepy, wasp nursery…

…or even when I take a surprising amount of pleasure from kicking over one of the fire ant hills out in the back yard and watching them scramble like their entire world has just been scattered across the yard by the hand of God, even though later I’ll worry about stumbling across a sacrilegious sand kingdom in a corner of our apartment later on that evening, teaming with millions upon millions of blood-thirsty insectoids just waiting for dinner to take a step in the wrong direction…

Ok, so I actually kind of ripped off that last one from an old episode of The Outer Limits, but still, given the tenacity of the insect kingdom I don’t think it’s a scenario that’s entirely out of the question. It’s one thing to be less squeamish than your friendly, resident humor columnist, but to simply write the little buggers off altogether just because you’re bigger than them seems a bit naïve now, doesn’t it?! I mean, what would you do when you awaken in the middle of a sweat-soaked nightmare, only to find yourself wide awake in the middle of a different sweat-soaked nightmare, except that this one features a herd of wild rhinoceros beetles rooting through your stuff, eating all of your Lucky Charms, and making grossly-suggestive advances towards your now terrified live-in girlfriend? But don’t worry – there’s nothing to fear about just a few little bugs anyways, right?!

Nah, if it’s all the same this is one that I’m going to have to continue to err on the side of imaginative caution with because for every stray ant that I don’t want wandering around my kitchen, nibbling on my potato chips when I’m not looking, there are roughly another 300 trillion waiting just out of sight … waiting, watching, planning their siege on that very same kitchen. And sure, you might suggest that I could somehow avoid such an onslaught from under the hill by simply letting those little denizens dance all over my dinner, but really, you’ve got to understand that you can’t stand down when it comes to those who creep and crawl in the night. Otherwise one day it’s few nibbles out of my ever-so-delicately constructed ham and swiss sandwich, then next it could be an entire smorgasbord of sweets being sauntered out of sight while I quiver sheepishly in the other room…

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a tough act to balance – defend one’s lunch, while at the same time not attracting so much attention as to welcome on an all-out invasion from the insect world onto my own. On one hand, those new cupcakes that I picked up are absolutely delicious, but on the other hand, have you ever tried to sleep with the threat of giant, radioactive scorpions lurking just outside your door???

Those are the kinds of things that keep me up at night…

Ladies and gentlemen, I’m just happy to be here at all this week!

I know, I know – I too thought that last week’s run-in with death a la acupuncture would’ve been more than enough excitement for mild-mannered, little old me, but apparently that death-defying half hour was only the tip of the iceberg when compared to how I would spend the following weekend! Folks, I’ve been places that men weren’t intended to travel, seen things that those luckiest will never see, so the least I can do is share my own plights in an effort to prevent you, my brave, brave readers from suffering the same cruel fate in the future…

This weekend I went to a bridal show.

Yeah, so the name probably should’ve been my first clue, but silly, irrational me thought that while the title itself targeted the little girls who’ve been dreaming of their wedding day since before they left their mother’s wombs, there could very well still be something to be enjoyed by us grooms as well. It was sold to me as the best place to gather information for planning a wedding because everyone is together in one place, and while those of us dudes who are actually interested in helping to plan our own weddings are sadly quite few and far between, there’d still be a place for us at the bridal show, right? We were the few, the proud, the five guys who were brave, bold … and stupid enough to step forth and strive to take an active role in the most important day of our lives, and I don’t know about all of them because I think a few have still yet to come to, but boy – I certainly didn’t see that stampede coming!

You’ve heard the term “like a deer in the headlights,” but somehow that one just doesn’t quite paint the picture of what happened in Downtown Tampa that afternoon. You remember that scene in the original Jurassic Park movie when the T-Rex first learns that he can get out of his pen? One of the first people he takes out is the lawyer that was hiding out in the port-a-john, and that’s the best way that I can think to describe it – “like getting torn in two by a Tyrannosaurus Rex when you absolutely least expect it!” Because that dude certainly didn’t see it coming, and quite frankly, neither did we…

It’s one of those things that you truly have to experience firsthand in order to grasp the magnitude of it all – maybe you had a sister or friend who was engaged, or for the truly initiated, maybe you opted to just skip out the middleman and propose to one of them yourself (not your sister, mind you…), god help your soul! You see, when that fateful engagement ring is placed upon a woman’s finger, a transformation of sorts takes place – even in the very best of them. Some, as you know, become that legendary title of Bridezilla, while others may undertake the slightly less ravishing stance of Grand Queen Over All Things Wedding-Related, but regardless, all brides big and small develop an aura known simply as Bridal Rage – a force that has been known to level small cities and bring entire populations to their knees, all over a misunderstood photography contract or an ivory chair cover that appears to be more of an off-white or a snow color under the lights at the site of the actual reception. Many of you are nodding your heads in solemn understanding, having experienced Bridal Rage yourselves when a loved one completely and utterly lost it during her own wedding planning. Those of you who are scratching your heads don’t know just how truly blissful your ignorance really is in this particular situation…

To describe the setting in the convention hall that afternoon in the most eloquent of ways – it was like locking a dozen or so rabid wolverines into a tiny broom closet and letting them duke it out, with the one exception that there’s a chance that eventually the wolverines might get bored of fighting and just call it a day. But of course, any groom will profess that this will never happen in the bridal world – not until every last flower, dress, and napkin color has been chosen, vetoed, and returned to once again. For your average bride, the “excitement” (insanity, to the rest of us) begins the moment that engagement ring settles on her finger and doesn’t cease until the plane ride back from her honeymoon in Oahu or Aruba or whatever other tropical getaway she’s been destined since birth to honeymoon at. If you’ve ever watched a dog chase its own tail for hours out in the backyard with a disturbing degree of persistence, you know the look of a bride who comes to the local bridal show ready and willing to plan her big day, at any and all costs!

I didn’t get a chance to check with the other guys (read: they weren’t allowed to talk to me), but the majority of my afternoon was pretty much spent dodging brides, their mothers and bridesmaids as they darted from booth to booth, carrying an increasingly heavy stack of pamphlets that my own bride accumulated throughout the day, and occasionally chuckling sheepishly when vendors would joke about how I’d probably rather be at home drinking beer and watching the big game than doing all of this wedding crap. Beer and sports – not so much, but don’t tempt me with sweet, sweet freedom nonetheless…

Would I do it again? [Expletive Deleted] no! And not necessarily because I’m an insensitive groom, mind you, but just like how those girls wouldn’t feel comfortable at a sci-fi convention or camping out in the woods, sometimes it’s better to simply know your place and that there are some places you just don’t go. Besides, between the Internet and the yellow pages, there are still plenty of avenues for a curious groom like me to get my proverbial planning feet wet without further endangering my own life – better off leaving the cat fights over DJs and photographers at these things to the professionals, thus doing my part to ensure that I’ll actually be physically able to attend our own little soiree!

Next week, we’ll return with a slightly less death-defying episode of The Humor Column, primarily because these old bones just can’t take it anymore! Whether you’re seeking me for a blood donation or to solicit your services as a wedding seismologist or whatever, take note that I’ll officially be on vacation until further notice. Any questions, take it up with the woman – she’ll be the one carrying roughly 83 pounds of literature about honeymooning in the Cayman Islands…

…so that’s where we stand at this point, anyways. If you’ve been reading along over the last month, you’re well aware at this point that I’ve gone and done gotten myself engaged – to get married, of all things! And really, if this is news to you at this point … where have you been?! Get with the program and go read my last three columns – we’ll wait.

Some people’s kids, I tell ya…

Anyways, while the hunt and the purchasing of the ring itself, not to mention working up the nerve to actually offer up said ring in exchange for my fair lady’s hand for all eternity, did prove to be just a tad bit stressful at times, I am somewhat happy to say that at least for now, I’ve yet to find myself overwhelmed with the barrage of stress and chaos that seems to be looming just over the ever-approaching wedding planning horizon. Much like a storm in the distance or an uninvited relative, I can tell that it’s coming, but at least for the time being I’m just trying to relax and enjoy these new days of being a definitely not single man…

Of course, friends who’ve been in my shoes before – figuratively speaking, at least – will vouch that these relationship vacation days certainly won’t last long, and a quick look around definitely confirms that notion. Maybe it’s the anxiousness by my new fiancée to tell everyone – even random people in the mall who we don’t even know and very well might not even speak English – about our recent engagement and how our wedding will be the fairest gala in all the land, maybe it’s the uncontrollable giddiness when we pass by anything that’s simply the color white, even if it’s not necessarily wedding-related, but it’s clear that these days of relaxing, decision-less bliss are to be short-lived at best.

I think above all else, though, the telltale sign that my life is about to go into a frenzy of a tailspin is defined by the ever-expanding library of wedding magazines that have begun popping up around our house. I once only scoffed at them in the grocery store checkout line, wondering who would possibly purchase these mammoth tomes month after month while enjoying a good laugh at the latest Make Him Give You Really Adequate Sex headlines on the cover of Cosmo, but even now it’s already become painfully clear to me that wedding planning is quite the hot commodity!

I mean, how else could these folks churn out half a dozen completely different wedding planning bible magazines every month, with each individual mag containing half a phone book’s number of pages and about a quarter of the actual content?! These people thrive on guys like me – the young, innocent, and in the right light sometimes even arguably attractive – to build their customer base by slipping those magic rings on women’s fingers. From there, the work is simple as long as they’ve got 500 pictures of designer dresses and one writer on staff to churn out lists all day of What not to forget the day of your perfect wedding… and What to absolutely, positively not forget the day of your perfect wedding… The advertisers probably don’t even bother writing checks – they just send over giant dump trucks full of cash…

So I guess it probably goes without saying that aside from figuring out how I’m possibly going to dispose of approximately 100,000 bridal magazines that our household is set to accumulate between now and that fateful day, there will likely be a few other areas in which I’ll be asked of my opinion so as to make our special day all merry and bright (not unlike Christmas, although I’m fairly confident that she wouldn’t exactly go for that particular theme…). As to the level of my own personal involvement … well, I’d like to say that I’m going to try my best to beat the typical guy stereotype and participate in planning a bit more than just the DJ and the honeymoon, however I’ve also seen just how absolutely crazy those sales folks involved even at the engagement ring level can get, so let’s just wait and see how that one pans out first!

In the meantime, however, if you don’t mind I’d like to get back to the peace and quiet that I’m currently enjoying via margarita and a new book. If crazy wedding planning chaos comes knocking on the door looking for me, just take down his number and let him know that I’ll get back to him in a few weeks! For now I’d just like to savor the calm just as long as I possibly can…