A Lying, Babbling Loon

Today I had to call the marraige commissioner that Jonathan and I had originially hired to perform our ceremony.
I had to call him because he's a Big Fucking Jerk and there is no way I am letting a Big Fucking Jerk perform my wedding ceremonials.
But I didn't want to SAY that to him.
No, even though he is a Big Fucking Jerk, I was having panic attacks at the thought of hurting his Big Fucking Feelings (always assuming he even has any).
The problem with this guy is that he doesn't care about weddings. And that's fine, really, not everyone does. Hell, I don't even care about weddings most of the time. But see, this is MY wedding, and therefore VERY important. And really, if you don't care about weddings, or happy couples, or giving happy couples the best wedding, then WHY are you a marriage commissioner?!?
So I had to call him to tell him that... well, that we're "letting him go", and believe me, I was scared shitless. I hate confrontation. That's why I have this passive agressive blog, so I can vent all of my agressive feelings while remaining outwardly passive to the general public.
But call him I must, and I picked up the phone not 10 minutes ago to do just that.

RING

RING

RING

Answering Machine: We're not home, lah-dee-dah, bullshit bullshit bullshit, leave us a message!

(I was so not prepared for the answering machine!! Answering machines freak me out... what, you just want me to talk? And no one will answer back? That's just giving me liscence to ramble on unchecked, and THAT is liscence for disaster).

Me: Oh. Hello.... hello I am looking for Anthony Lowe... but, er, he's not in, I guess... so, I'll just tell you what I called to tell you... and that is this... My name is Chelsea Logue and you were supposed to perform my wedding ceremony on July 25 at 3 pm but now I don't need you anymore because.... because... we don't need you. And... and the wedding is off! YEAH! THAT'S why we don't need you. It's off, and, well, so are you, I guess. So, I mean, this is really a good thing. For you I mean. Not me. I guess it's pretty awful for me. Yes... I AM really sad, but you get to have some extra time off, so won't that be nice for you? ...... uh...... um..... well, I'm at work, and this is a long distance call, so I guess I should go... but, no hard feelings? And, um... if I ever get married again, you are totally invited! Well, like, I mean... you can perform the ceremony. Not like invited invited, but... I mean... I WOULD invite you, but I don't know you... Um... um....

Answering Machine: BEEEEEEEEEEP

So there it is. It's done. And I'm thinking that at this point, Big Fucking Jerk is probably just really happy he never has to hear my voice again.