Standing there in a line of (pre) engagement photos waiting for the camera bulbs to flash, I waited for that
little toad of a man to fiddle with the gigantor of a photography equipment and take .. the ... damn shot!!
I gritted my teeth as I slowly lost the will to live...
My life as a bridesmaid. One thing more abhorrent than that would be my life as a (more than once) bride,
which thank fuck, I haven't been subjected to. Being a bridesmaid means you have to be there .. yuck!
"Just one more!"
"Show me more leg darling!"
Leg? Darling? If the guy wasn't short and squat, and has the propensity to be kicked till kingdom come, then I'll
show him a thing or two - how about I show you enough leg to kick your nuts in and change your religion???
(Un)Fortunately, my temporary disgust registered a nanosecond before the next wave of bulbs streaked through
the air. Let nothing be said against the speed of light... I was immortalised with a look that mirrors the
occasions when I squeeze solidified turd out through my fine arse.
This must be my penance for being caught bonking the last groom I saw. Before you are all at arms:
I was not related to him
I had no idea he was the groom,
I thought he was the waiter
I had no idea who he was (I crashed the party)
No, I am not (usually) constipated!
Now I have to get fitted in this stupid pink taffeta monstrosity of a dress. I am sure this is so going to
reel in the potentials on the night of the actual wedding. And being bridesmaid .. you HAVE to attend!!
Engagement party=bloody present.
Kitchen Tea=another bloody present.
And finally, the Wedding=another bloody present.
Just plain highway robbery, if you ask me.
The guys got to go scuba diving for their bucks thing, and the girls got some stupid Kitchen Tea crap. I don't
want to sit around with my Wedgwood cups that don't break sipping (hot) tea on any (hot) day. If I want to drink
tea, I'll serve myself at home where I don't have to buy any stupid shit just because the bride is greedy.
Tradition is for schmucks. I bet they made it up along the way... I'd much rather be handcuffed next to a
gorgeous man on the train to Kalgoorlie in nothing but my ... wishful thinking ... As if my friends are
inventive enough.
Back to reality. Fast forward to the wedding day (more specifically the reception) and the bride is beaming.
That's because she put us in fucking pom poms of dresses. I'll never live this down...
The poor parents get saddled with the bill as they choose some expensive place like the Grand Hyatt in an attempt
to "set the bar". Worse is it turns into a circus and an MC shows up and translates everything in another language...
This spunk in the far side caught my eye. I had to double check that the groom was sitting at the bridal table before I
made my move. Good, the groom is at the front. I think the bride is trying to manouver a raw egg from one side of
his pants to the other. Weirdo bridal games!! Back to me again. This piece is about me. With some luck, I'll
still be occupied when they do that pack rape thing that girls do when they catch the bouquet. I smile at my
intended (victim). Maybe this night is not so wasted after all...
Who needs weddings when you can bonk the guests...
The ratio of groom to guests (male) is about 1:100.
Live life vicariously but don't get caught in the female's toilets.
At least in the male's, you get a cut of the video sales...