Warren, my young hot boyfriend and I got married a few months ago. We did this very much on the down low, just the two of us and a county clerk. I wore a lovely dress I picked up on the sale rack at Target for $10 and Warren wore a matching Hawaiian-themed shirt. It was my third time to get hitched and Warren’s first. You might think, with me being old hat at getting married and Warren being the sort to swear he’d never marry, that he would’ve been the one with cold feet. Nah. He practically skipped into the Travis County Marriage License Office to file the paperwork, whereas I was the one shaking. Because after enduring two prior short lived marriages-from-hell and two even more hellish divorces, I finally came to the conclusion that I’d rather be tied to a bed of rusty nails and broken glass and have a diarrhea plagued horse shit in my mouth while my ten worst ex-boyfriends plucked out my toenails then ever go that route again. more ›