WeddingsAttending a wedding is like being handed a licence to act like a twat. Oh how I laughed when I sobered up and realised I'd nicked most of the plates and cutlery from the posh hotel lunch and those vague memories of stealthily exiting like a cat-burglar had in-fact involved falling out of the hotel, knives and forks clattering onto the steps.
Tell us your wedding stories.
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chthonic, Thu 14 Jul 2005, 15:19)
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One of my bestest friend's wedding....I gave myself 5 hours to drive from London to Bournemouth one hot August Saturday.
But of course every bugger in London had decided to get out of town that morning. Cue traffic jams galore.
So my car overheats twice before I've even left London. I feed it three litres of Evian.
Didn't have time to check-in to my hotel and get changed, so I stopped of at a service station on the M27 to put on my suit. Only to discover it had been ruined by the dry cleaners.
Undeterred, I set off on the final stretch of my journey. After several more traffic jams and 'Evian stops', I reach the venue. 50 yards away from the entrance to the venue, a farmer appears in the middle of the road with his hand in the air. I screech to halt, and see him let about 500 cows cross the road very slowly.
I missed the ceremony but got there in time for the photos, so it looked like I'd been there all along. Except in my ruined suit, I also looked like I'd been sat on by a hairy white cat.
And needless to say, my friend wasn't too impressed when I shook hands with her new husband (who I'd never met before) and left greasy black car stains on his hand.
Got suitably wankered afterwards though, which was nice.
(, Thu 14 Jul 2005, 17:17, Reply)
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