Well, HIPAA in and of itself isn't jargon, it's just an acronym that stands for the Health Insurance Portability Accounting Act. It's a bunch of rules about how insurance companies have to act. Now, within those rules is a whole buncha jargon that makes my head spin daily. :)

All the best to you guys!

xoxoxBest wishes for a fabulous wedding, a perfect honeymoon and a long and happy marriage.xoxox

Have a wonderful wedding, and lots of fun in Belgium.

Here's a relevant joke:
Two men are sitting in the Thalys (very fast train) from Amsterdam to Paris. One of them says: "Quick, look out the window NOW!"
The other guy turns to look: "What? What?"
"Never mind", says the first guy "We already passed it."
"What was it? What did I miss?"
"Belgium"

Have a lovely wedding!

Have a great wedding and honeymoon, and drink lots of pwim.

Skot, Elayne, I can sell you stuff that will make this HIPAA thing easier to understand....but I digress...Good luck at the funer-er-wedding and have a good time in Belgium. I would agree with the Pwim comment, but you know the old saying "When in Belgium, drink 23 proof beer."

May you have a fantastic wedding, a great flight, plenty of free booze, and a delightful honeymoon. And all that goes with it.

If you don't bring me back a box of Leonidas pralines, I will hunt you down the like the dog that you are.

~Really.~

Skot, Congratulations. Have a wonderful, finger-biting week and a great wedding and honeymoon.

It'll be great, you big lug.

Or maybe you're a small lug.

Whatever size lug you are, congratulations.

Congratulations, Skot! And best wishes to Retha.

xoxox~And thanks a lot for stealing my birthday thunder.~xoxox

See you on the other side. It's pretty cool over here. Good luck!

Happy wedding! Enjoy the dog bed!

Congratulations! Have a great wedding and and incredible time in Belgium. Remember: your wedding day is exactly that-YOURS. Have FUN with it.

Don't let any of those greasy Begiumanians trap Retha in a corner! They can be savage when they trap someone, those Belgies.

HIPY PAPY WDNGEDDNGA WNGEDDING! as WOL might have said... and many happy returns of the day!

Happy wedding! Best of luck to you both!

Soon my time will come.

Happy Nuptuals, Ya'll. The gravy boat is returnable!

*ties Caftan Guy to Skot's bumper*

[xox]Happy nuptuals, shit heels![/xox]

Congratulations Skot and Retha!

Hooray for the happy couple!

Congratulations to Skot & Retha!

Congratulations, Skot and Retha!

I can't believe our little Skooter's found someone foolish enough to have him getting married. Best wishes to you both!

Yay Skooter and Retha! Have a happy forever.

*tosses flowers about with abandon*

*swills champagne*

This party would be a lot more fun if you'd set up a webcam. I'm sure that Mr. Computer would have had no problems doing this.

*gets all sappy and sentimental anyway*

Warm congratulations to you both--I wish you much happiness in your lives together.

Have a great wedding! Throwing uncooked rice make pigeons dance for joy!

Raise high the roof beam, carpenters!

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
oooo!

Enjoy your wedded bliss ~for the couple months you have left before we move up and turn your area into a Living Hell~. Seriously, best wishes and happy days forever and ever. You are too damn cute to deserve otherwise. R. is anyway.

Whoomp, there it is!

i can't believe two of the sexiest people on the planet are now off the market...sniff...

i can't believe two of the sexiest people on the planet are now off the market...sniff...

That's very sweet, Judith, but this page is all about wishing Skot well.

Salt got the century!! W00t!!

Er, I mean, congratulations Skot!! And my condolences to your lovely bride.

xoxox*

* Tag intentionally left open, as it should be in marriage.

What's that about Skot and Retha having an open marriage? I bet that's news to at least one of them.

It has been three days since I heard that pretty-boy Skot and the woman he does not deserve to have were coming to my country. And yet, still I wait in this dingy cafe, morosely sipping my "Earl Grey" tea, waiting and longing for the touch, or even a kind word from Skot. My pecs grow limp.

I did not mean those terrible words that I said. Look! I have saved for both you a table and ordered the extra large pommes frites. They are Belgian, you know. I will not have any myself. My body is a temple, and you two may do worship at it.

Bring the frites.

My malaise is so great, I have written haiku:

Alone, so alone!
My nipples erect no more
I am pathetic.

*weeps uncontrollably*

Claude (SLAP) control yourself!

for those who'd like to know: The wedding weekend went wonderfully, the ceremony beautiful and touching, and the time had lovely.

Buh- buh- buh I LOVE HIM!!!! IT'S NOT FAIR!!! I haven't felt this worthless since Vin Diesel became a star!

*starts a fight with a passing flemish transvestite*

*drinks more absinthe*

*waits*

You do not answer my calls. You do not respond to letter. My email has been reported as spam.

I haven't felt this unwanted since Vin Diesel began his career.

Yesh, I'm drunk. So?

I hear your mocking laughter, don't think that I am deaf to your derision. Every part of my body sags despairingly. My man-breasts will soon dwarf your lover's. I cannot bear to look at myself. Even the picture of me on the beach (remember the time we spent on that island?) is debased with the head of the Large Metal Man. Remember when we frolicked on the sand? Remember my white Speedo bulging with pride? Remember your lovely pasty chest gleaming in the sun?

Don't? Don't you want me? You know I can't believe it when I hear that you won't see me.

I can see now how you disregard me, just like I disregard evil villains, except with extreme prejudice. My love, spurned. My hopes, dashed. My self-esteem, de-esteemed. But my eyes are wide open now. So I am leaving you.

Yes! I am leaving you for another. Someone who appreciates my gifts, someone who sees me as the exotic, delicate, yet extremely buff flower that I am. Tizzy, je'taime!

Forgive me, Skot, for I have strayed. You must know that Tizzy means nothing to me, even though his (her?) site is so much flashier and exciting than yours. But shiny, sparkly things are not the stuff of true devotion. Now I know the true meaning of love, and though I must remain chaste, you will always be the object of my courtly love. I will be Lancelot to your Guinevere (without the eventual tender fucking). I will go back in time for you, kill cyborgs for you, become a cyborg for you, kill even more cyborgs for you, make a terrible movie based on a video game for you, and yes, though it pains me so, co-star with Dolph Lundgren for you.

*cross-stiches a sampler for Skot*

CLAUDE!!! I have seen this downward spiral progessing for several days now, and I have only this to say:

Whatever you are smoking, is there any left?

Kottwuff, the only drug that I am on is Skot's love. That, and a fistful of painkillers and horse tranquilizers. But never mind that.

As for you, dearest Skot, you have taught me how to love from afar, with no expectation of reciprocal feelings, loving words, or listless hand-jobs. I am grateful for the time I have spent stalking you, and I shall never forget your utter disregard for my well-being.

And, whenever I hear the wind, it will whisper the name Lowenstein Kurruk.

*sheds a tear*

*resumes killing cyborgs*

Is he back yet?

Nope?

*sigh*

SKOT!!! Come back!!! If I can't live vicariously through you, then I might have to *gulp* go OUTSIDE!!!

Could someone send help? Claude has me trapped in a dry well in his basement. I'm really sick of gnawing chicken bones.

(Thank you everyone for the kind words.)

I will always love you.