OK, first things first -- it wasn't Jaegermeister, it was Sambuca. And I didn't drink any of it until well after the toast was over. Which is probably why I forgot my speech in the middle of it. NOTE TO SELF: they call it liquid courage for a reason.
Anyway, it's been one hell of a weekend, and I should be asleep already because we're getting up before the ass-crack of dawn tomorrow to go to the beach for the day, so here is the very very brief version of the story of Michele and Joe's wedding day:
(1) We ate cake.
(2) We danced like fools.
(3) And we partied like muther-truckin' ROCK STARS.
It was a beautiful, beautiful day.
And like I said -- and I meant it -- I was glad to be a part of it.