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I'll refrain from posting everything I think about narratives surrounding the war in favor of latching on to your wedding crashers comment and mention that while I was in the north of spain I met a guy who was in town for his friend's wedding, who was getting married to the niece of the CFO of Chanel. Never have I wanted to crash a wedding more, and ever since then I've been kicking myself for not having the balls to ask this guy straight up if I could be his plus one to the wedding.

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