Disclaimer: I’m not against weddings…(disclaimer 2Bcont’d)
(Irish Seinfeld): Wha’tis the deal with weddings these days? It’s like, let’s officially begin our lives t’gether b(u)y spendin’ a year(‘s salary) plannin’ a family reunity twoice ohver (as if gatherin’ one family’s baggage into a single room izzint e-nuff ‘ta gift, plus if we’re talkin’ about travelin’ then we have baggage on baggage on baggage) or maybe more like a family reunion death (not actual death but like the Claymitymation emmteevee celeb’rty death match) match (deer will be blood): in Ireland, there are still local instances of families settlin’ grudges or debts or what-have-you wit’ a wee bit o’ bare-knuckle boxin’ in the streets. I truly wish t’at be a joke, like I’m just rustlin’ yer feathers, but nay, t’ere be documentary footage (“Knuckle”) of staged fighting betwixt one large cuzzin and another large cuzzin, that is, one from each family whether they be the real McCoys or O’Shenanagins. Then, to really give it a sense of dignity, as if dignity be lacking, there tend to be a few referees (other family members) ensuring there be no ball-play so-to-speak, and no biting, eye-gouging and the like. To be fair, as if all isn’t fair in love ‘n bare-knuckle boxing, the wife and lads and lasses are left safe at home wond’rin’ why in the Holy Fuck do we have ta put up with this Shite and how do I explain to poor Saoirse and Seamus that their Pa will be commin’ home widizz face reconfigur’d…
(obligunnecessary Samuel L. Jackson referendum) Ezekiel 25:17 (from the book in the motel drawer). “…And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers…”
All I’m saying is weddings miiiight be more fun if the two sides participate in a competition of sorts (friendly…bo(i)nding…dance-off?)…the losing family is saddled with the payment of the open bar…? I’m just riffin’ here, but that sounds like a plan, no? I could go on about the flowers (we can have white roses but anything with color too), the table-sorting (fuck it, let’s make it random), the band (The Glitch Mob or Pretty Lights), the dress (Kirsten Dunst in Melancholia minus Kirsten Dunst, or keep Kirsten Dunst… OR marry Kirsten Dunst!…or a black dress I’ve seen it and it’s awesome), the food (hire local chef to prepare local, seasonal, health-conscious meal), the church (don’t get me started), the cake (local bakery, don’t go overboard, make it taste like cake) the photographer (everyone) or videographer (at least one of your retired aunts or uncles), the venue (TBD, urban, acoustically-sound, maybe a rooftop?).
Disclaimer (cont’d): …and I’m not against marriage, but I’m against said communion being the sum of all stress rather than the sum of all life…
(unity with individuality it’s possible)