Holy crap it’s August! That means the wedding of the century is almost here. I guess I should check in with that Etsy vendor to make sure the bridal saddle will be ready in time. I’ve still only seen the preliminary sketches so you’ll understand why I’m a bit concerned.
Just in case the mechanical bull doesn’t work out (Gwen still vehemently insists it will NOT work out), my fellow bridesmaid…er bridesman and I have been discussing other entertainment options. I like to think of the ceremony itself as more of an “opening act” with the headliner reserved for later in the evening.
So far, nothing is working out. Turns out loading in an aquatic show is cost prohibitive. The vineyard has a pretty strict policies against flamethrowers. We don’t have enough time to replicate Superman’s fortress of solitude out of rock candy and tongue depressors. Both the bride and the groom refuse to wear harnesses under their wedding attire. I swear, we can’t catch a break!
So then we discussed some simpler options. But the bride insists that inflatable jumping castles are “not tasteful.” Lady, I’m not suggesting the turrets replace the crab cakes. Wait, I don’t like crab cakes. Maybe that’s exactly what I’m suggesting.
So now bridesman and I are thinking face painting is the answer. How hard can that be? Granted, the last time I accidentally ate a palette of face paint the flavors seemed to be “toe fungus” and “hot urine-soaked asphalt” but that was many years ago. At least three. I’m sure huge strides have been made in the field of face paint flavors since then. Face paint = tasteful.
Now everyone knows the trickiest part of any social activity is getting people started in participating. How many times have you seen the sad, unpopulated craft table at a kid’s birthday party while the little hellions hover around the periphery waiting for anyone to go first? Tragic! But bridesman and I have a solution. We’ll go first. The entire bridal party.
Let’s see, there’s four of us supporting Bridezilla. Well, that’s almost too easy.
To really sell it though, I think Matt and Gwen absolutely have to participate as well.
I’m getting misty-eyed already. I’ve said it once. I’ll say it five bazillion more times before this shit is over. I’m the best old married hag of honor, EVAH!
Can’t wait to kiss the Hag of Honor in NYC! 😉
Yay! Just be warned – I can’t promise there won’t be tongue involved.
I was a bridesmaid one time and one time only. I decided after that it was probably bad luck to kill the bride(zilla) before her wedding.
I find my leftover anxiety meds from chemo help tons. 🙂
Hilarious! I think all of those ideas are quite wonderful and really, it’s too bad about the flamethrowers which would have been useful if there were any misbehaving toddlers or screamers around, but still.
And I must point out that poor Gwen has the same look of complete and undeniable terror on her face in that last picture that I once had when I accidentally sharted at the airport. (To be fair, before you think less of me, I’d had food poisoning for a week beforehand….)
Oh honey, I’ve sharted in public plenty of times. Cause once is more than plenty as you well know. If I’d had a flamethrower, I could have used it to destroy the evidence, too. That’s why I ALWAYS wear panties, frankly. Maybe that was too much frankly. Maybe I shouldn’t respond to comments post wine and excessive fiber.
I’ve never been a bride or a bridesmaid. Such freedom used to be a major perk of lesbianism, but these days we’ve got same-sex marriage here in Canada so we can kiss that perk goodbye. Thank Goddess I’m too old now for all that carrying on, so I’ve still managed to escape. Woo hoo!
Can we just have a little “Fuck yeah, California!” moment?
you can paint my face anyday. this weekend we’ll give it a whirl.
If I’m out of face paint, can I use sharpies instead?
Those gold dresses are to die for! Maybe I can get one for around the house.
I know! It makes you want to smack on some roller skates and some feather earrings right? Oh, did I mention I’ll be wearing peacock feathers?
not sure if you’re a HP fan but i’m thinking you should pitch â€œhot urine-soaked asphaltâ€ as the newest flavor of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Bean.
i smell a goldmine!
or maybe that’s just the urine…
I believe they call those “golden showers.”
Then the walk down the aisle could be to “Detroit Rock City” which, come on, AWESOME. What would be more cool to stand as the bride rocks down the aisle and you hear, “GET UP, Everybody’s gonna move their feet, GET DOWN, Everybody’s gonna leave their seat”?? I should be a wedding planner.
Gwen wants to party every night, and part of every day.
Best wedding ever. And who the fuck doesn’t like bouncy castles. We had one at my company party…for the adults.
Sounds like a sexual harassment suit in the making.
Oh come on, damn the party poopers!! The fortress of solitude made with tongue depressors would be awesome. Just think you wouldn’t need forks to eat cake. Save on the cutlery expense!!
I really am disapointed in the “no flamethrower” rule. I mean, really, what the hell are you going to do if that’s the exact moment the zombie apocalypse occurs? Seriously, now you have to go with the face paint. It may help you blend in. Am I the only one prepared here??
Face paint is like maple syrup for zombies. We’re doomed.
Comments are closed.