A friend of my dad got remarried a couple of years ago, to a biker named Merlin. A goodly portion of the chapel was populated by huge middle-aged dudes with wild grey beards in full biker regalia. That was a pretty awesome wedding.
My friend from childhood had turned a little rednecky and so her wedding was lots of mullets and beer. She was supposed to arrive in a horse-drawn carriage to the outdoor ceremony. Well, it rained. She arrived in the carriage with an umbrella but the wind had blown her dress and hair all to hell. After fixing her up in the BARN near the ceremony site, she waddled (Did I mention she was 6 months pregnant?) down the aisle, boobs flopping everywhere.
The reception was lots of country music and screaming kids and a groomsman who walked around in a wife beater complaining about niggers.
My wife's grandmother dropped dead in front of her as she was having her wedding make up done. Weirdly enough, it didn't ruin the day.
Total shotgun wedding story here. I'm sure you've heard it before countless times. Friend knocks up girl, wants to marry girl before the kid is born, has about 4 months or less to plan, and ends up being a shitty 'ol wedding.
For one, this wedding was in the middle of fucking nowhere. Some tiny little church out in the country is where they had this thing. The reception wasn't indoors, but outdoors - in the fucking church's baseball field. Now, this wouldn't have been such a bad idea, but that day it had been drizzling on and off, so the ground in this field was soft and extremely muddy. Almost everyone's pants and shoes were mud within 15 minutes of walking around.
Next, the groom's dad doesn't show up until about 10 minutes before the ceremony, and he's in a dirty old leather jacket and faded jeans. How classy. The photographer is nowhere to be found, and as it happens I had my stuff with me.. so guess who had to shoot the first 15 minutes of the reception? Exactly. Then the real photographer shows up, who's got shittier equipment than I do. I said fuck it and let him do his "magic".
The food was simply an outdoor barbeque, which consisted of hot dogs, burgers, and sausages. Amazingly the food wasn't too bad, but I can't seem to figure out why they had all these fancy wine glasses on the tables but the only alcohol that was served was beer and vodka coolers.
Finally, as the night starts setting in, we decide to light a fire. We walk over to 2nd base, pile up a bunch of logs, and start a fire. The thing ended up being HUGE, and I'm sure by morning the entire field looked like a complete mess of ashes and burnt logs. I wasn't part of the cleanup crew luckily, so that was fine with me.
Anyway, the rest of the event went off without too many problems. I just can't believe they decided to have the reception in the baseball field while it rained and mudded things up badly.
I was the best man at my friend's wedding this summer. My speech was...Interesting. I was nervous as shit, stone sober, the mic didn't work, and I compared his marriage to a grilled cheese sandwich. Yeah.
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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