If I were a man, I'd want to court 4-Day Weekends and go on group-dates and pray with them until they feel like the Lord is telling them that we, I (a man) and she (4-Day Weekends, or 4DW), should be joined in holy matrimony. And then I would marry 4DW and impregnate her on our honeymoon so she would bear our spawn: 4-Day Weeklets, little breaks pitter-pattering throughout the work week like manna from Heaven.
THAT'S what I would do to 4-Day Weekends, that's how much I love them.
As such, I'm not able to spread imaginary man-seed and create Weeklets within the sanctity of marriage, and the State of California, though quite progressive in certain areas of sanctioned wedded bliss, has not, as of yet, hopped on the bandwagon that permits loving humans such as myself to marry Play Time.
So, Internet, here is where I post my undying love for the 4-Day Weekend. Don't judge me. But you have to understand, the 4DW provides so much freedom, so much joy, so many unmitigated possibilities - I am at my best during that blessed span of time between Thursday night and Tuesday morning. I think more clearly. Follow more nearly. Love more dearly. Day, by day. By day. And while it is a bit sad that instead of letting a nice fella buy my dowry with a herd of camels and a sack of grain I'm choosing to devote myself wholly to a metaphysical ideal encompassing ridonkulous amounts of laziness and catnaps, I think that in the end those who know me and love me will soon see 4DW's as I do: For they are as one with me as I am with myself, and to love me is to love 4DW's.
To celebrate the blessed union of souls, here are some of the photos from the wedding reception:
Grabbing a bite between bands (Best Fwends, Abe Vigoda, Crystal Antlers, Two Gallants, Glass Candy, No Age, etc)
for Lines: Lines from Arrested Development. Lines on sweatshirts.