Weddings
Attending 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.
( , Thu 14 Jul 2005, 15:19)
Attending 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.
( , Thu 14 Jul 2005, 15:19)
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This image is still burned onto my retinas....
Mate of mine was marrying his lovely Italian girlfriend in her home country. Her folks were very devout, so it's a full on Catholic wedding ceremony, hundreds of guests, they've flown in the 60 year old Irish priest who baptised the bride etc etc As my mate is a Scot, all us lads were in full dress kilts, including one particular buddy of ours 'Smurf'. A few months prior to this Smurf, at the age of 30, had declared himself to be gay, but wasn't having ANY luck finding himself a fella and was getting rather desperate. But then, if you will refuse all dental treatment since birth and drink enough beer to give the appearance that another, only slightly smaller, man is living in the bottom of your vest, it can be difficult to get laid. Bless him, but Smurf's no oil painting.
Wedding is delightful - on we go to the reception. Lots of wonderful food, and more importantly wine, which Smurf is chucking back with his usual haste and enthusiasm. He, it seems, is not the only man at the wedding with an extreme thirst though... Night wears on, I'm chatting away to female mate when suddenly she stops mid-sentence and goes as white as a sheet, staring in utter horror at something over my shoulder. The rest of the room has fallen strangely silent as well - I turn around to see what's going on. There's Smurf, at the bar, in a full-on French kiss with the fucking PRIEST - who meanwhile has his hand up Smurf's kilt and is giving him a vigourous and obvious tug-job in front of two hundred gobsmacked guests. Both of them had got wasted on free booze, presumably exchanged significant glances, then just fallen on each other like starving wolverines... Bride's mother, who I don't think was the most homosexually-tolerant woman on the planet anyway, storms over, grabs an ice-bucket full of ice/cold water and douses them with it. They don't even seem to fucking NOTICE, let alone stop... They had to be physically prised apart in the end and the Bride and her family were so traumatised that they declared the reception immediately over. Pity, us Brits all agreed that we damn well NEEDED more booze after seeing that. Fair enough, everybody deserves love and affection, but full on toothless-lardie-boy against 60-year-old-priest stylee action I can do without having to watch...
No apologies for length. You know you love it really.
( , Mon 18 Jul 2005, 14:46, Reply)
Mate of mine was marrying his lovely Italian girlfriend in her home country. Her folks were very devout, so it's a full on Catholic wedding ceremony, hundreds of guests, they've flown in the 60 year old Irish priest who baptised the bride etc etc As my mate is a Scot, all us lads were in full dress kilts, including one particular buddy of ours 'Smurf'. A few months prior to this Smurf, at the age of 30, had declared himself to be gay, but wasn't having ANY luck finding himself a fella and was getting rather desperate. But then, if you will refuse all dental treatment since birth and drink enough beer to give the appearance that another, only slightly smaller, man is living in the bottom of your vest, it can be difficult to get laid. Bless him, but Smurf's no oil painting.
Wedding is delightful - on we go to the reception. Lots of wonderful food, and more importantly wine, which Smurf is chucking back with his usual haste and enthusiasm. He, it seems, is not the only man at the wedding with an extreme thirst though... Night wears on, I'm chatting away to female mate when suddenly she stops mid-sentence and goes as white as a sheet, staring in utter horror at something over my shoulder. The rest of the room has fallen strangely silent as well - I turn around to see what's going on. There's Smurf, at the bar, in a full-on French kiss with the fucking PRIEST - who meanwhile has his hand up Smurf's kilt and is giving him a vigourous and obvious tug-job in front of two hundred gobsmacked guests. Both of them had got wasted on free booze, presumably exchanged significant glances, then just fallen on each other like starving wolverines... Bride's mother, who I don't think was the most homosexually-tolerant woman on the planet anyway, storms over, grabs an ice-bucket full of ice/cold water and douses them with it. They don't even seem to fucking NOTICE, let alone stop... They had to be physically prised apart in the end and the Bride and her family were so traumatised that they declared the reception immediately over. Pity, us Brits all agreed that we damn well NEEDED more booze after seeing that. Fair enough, everybody deserves love and affection, but full on toothless-lardie-boy against 60-year-old-priest stylee action I can do without having to watch...
No apologies for length. You know you love it really.
( , Mon 18 Jul 2005, 14:46, Reply)
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