Hello Darkness! The Official Blog of Helen Keller

Forum fans, a serious topic today. There are some things that people are going to have to accept about weddings that need to be altered, removed or introduced in order to speed these things up for those of us in the crowd who still have shit to do in a weekend. There's a lot of unneccessary paegentry gumming these things up and by following this advice, the whole shooting match could be over faster than Nicole Ritchie eating and disgorging a grape.

The Ceremony

For starters, does the bride really need to walk down the aisle? I know most brides have this Queen for a Day fantasy and need the attention the aisle provides that they're most likely never going to command again, but reality should be introduced into her married life earlier on. Simply put, keep the bride up at the altar, but underneath a black dropcloth. Then, when the moment is right, the Minister (or whatever hippie moonshiner is filling in) pulls back the cloth with a tremendous "Huzzah!" and we're one step closer to going the fuck home. I will pay $50 to any Minister who substitutes, "I give you...KONG!" when pulling the cloth.

This "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the humma-humma-humma" is out. It's the same shit that was on the overwrought, abundantly illustrated invitation I received. The MC of the Ceremony need only say, "Sirs and madames, I'm not a redundant speaker. Read your fucking invitation. Seacrest out." and we're straight onto the vows. Also, to speed up the reading of the invitation, don't write out the year in words. 2006 will do just nicely; in fact, it may even be one of the reasons we adopted the numbers in the first place.

Most vows are poorly written if they're written by the happy couple. See the previous entry about public speaking. They're never plainly written and usually drone on long past the attention span or general interest level of the audience. Star Wars was good, but if Yoda read the phone book from A to Z, you'd leave. Spice this part up. Let the groom have his vow be, "Eenie meenie, minie moe, catch a bride by the toe..." as he points to women in the hall in succession. Bonus points if he can land the last "moe" convincingly on the bride.

True story: I was recently at a wedding where the groom finished his marathon barf of a vow and the bride simply turned to face her groom, outstretched her hand while chanting, "Kah-Li-Ma! Kah-Li-Ma! KAH-LI-MA!" and pulled the fucker's heart straight out of his rented tux. Luckily I was in the crowd and able to knock the Shankara stones free ruining her power. Also, in a showy display of pugilism, I busted the father of the bride down with a single blow to the face. I escaped down the aisle with the entire congregation chasing closely after me, but luckily, I was able to get Chuck to start the plane and dodged a fury of darts and arrows as we narrowly took off. Later, I traded the stones for a Taco Bell combo. I rule.

Next come the speeches. Fuck the speeches. I do NOT give a shit what Paul had to say to the Corinthians. I don't care what this means to the bride's sister. Read the fucking sports scores I'm missing this afternoon. I also wouldn't mind a microphoned farting contest between Maid of Honour and Best Man. First one to shit their clothes loses.

Anyway, once the vows are over, there's entirely too much time devoted to photographing the wedding party. What vainglorious people. There's an endless march of various combinations of people, young, women, old, men, left-handed, green-eyed, sober etc. Here's a simple way to do this to get the reception rolling faster: Photograph each person digitally and put them in a program that lets the married couple invent photos of any scenario they want. Bride and Groom by a pond with a swan? Done. Parents of the couple with a rainbow added? Bam! Bride's grandmother and groom's brother battling it out on Mustafar? Shazam, send me a copy!

Getting to the Reception

I like this part. I usually pick up a coffee.

The Receiving Line

Fuck, a twenty second limit with the bride and groom. Dear Aunt Agnes (also a good show) doesn't need to put a fucking double hand grip on either and reminisce for 8 months about their childhood. I usually carry an apple in my pocket and can bonk her or any other roadblock in the head.

The Reception

Fuck me. If the speeches at the ceremony weren't shitty enough, now I'm held captive while other dinks get up and blather on and on and on and on and on. I've got a good idea here too. They should supply at your table a list of about 16 numbered good wishes for the couple. Then, the speech giver need only stand up and read about 2 or 3 numbers. You find 'em on the list and smile appreciatively at their heartfelt sentiments. Should the speech giver divert from this, the kitchen staff has standing instructions to tackle them and remove them secret police style.

Also, as a sidenote, drunken speeches from drunken relatives about drunken memories designed to embarass the bride or groom are unwelcome. Period. I don't care if the bride once got knocked into the mud by a goat at a petting zoo and she cried the whole way home. There's no real joke here, I just can't stand these fucking stories.

Now, once dinner is served, eat it. No, I repeat, NO clinking of glasses to get the couple to kiss. This isn't Grade 7, we're not behind the gym afterschool and we don't need to hurry before they're caught. At the first instance of a clinked glass (or whatever other substitute the wedding planner thought would be fun), the beverages are removed. Second instance, no more food. Third instance, show's over, good night. If some retard clinks a fourth time, he gets kicked in the ass so hard his testicles launch out of his mouth.

Bride and Groom are going to cut the cake now? Now they can actually just cut and serve the stupid thing because of my awesome digital photoshop idea. None of this awkward 60 hands on the blade shit. Also, if anything is delayed 'cause one the fuckers mushed cake into the other's face, I get to run in and drop kick them. Nothing fancy, just two boots to the mouth, a "Vive le France!" and a victory lap.

We're onto the dancing. Whatever. The first 90384 songs all have special meaning and must be danced in very strict partners. Fuck it. Every person who fancies themselves important at the wedding, onto the floor. The loser DJ plays "Smells Like Teen Spirit". They slowdance during the verses, mosh through the chorus and swtich partners for the next verse. Also, everytime Cobain blurs a word, they take off a piece of clothing. Now the others can get in on embarassing themselves on the dancefloor that much sooner.

When it comes to music, every wedding is the same anyway. There are a couple of key songs that make it into every dance.

1. "Girls Just Want to Have Fun". When the opening strains of this song hit, there will be a gaggle of women sitting at a table. They'll look at each other, each carrying the thought, "WE'RE girls! WE just want to have fun!" and off they'll gaggle onto the dance floor to shittily dance in a circle. Sometimes "Man, I Feel Like A Woman" is played instead.

2. "I Got Friends in Low Places". I hate this fucking song. Anyway, this one allows the trailer trash mistakenly invited to the wedding a chance to shine. Remember to duck and cover on the chorus, since the inbreds dancing along always have to thrust upwards whatever they're drinking at the "Where the whiskey downs and the beer chases" bit.

3. Any of the later wimp songs by Bryan Adams. This guy once upon a time rocked. Then, he wrote "Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?" and made it onto the eunuch's Billboard 100. Play Summer of '69 instead, so those having an affair at the wedding are inspired to go nasty.

4. "Dancing Queen" Fuck, just run. Everybody knows most of the words and while dancing, can't help but sing along while doing that limp-wristed pointing at others on the dance floor. This isn't Momma-Mia and you know what else is even better than hearing a chorus of drunks sing the song? Hearing ABBA sing the song. ABBA was offered a BILLION dollars to reform; these folks got offered a chair to sit down before they fell down. 'Nuff said.

5. "New York, New York" Usually a universal choice for last song of the night. This one plays while the majority of dancers are puking, the best man is nailing the Maid of Honour in the backseat of his Volkswagon Jetta TDI and I've long since gone home.

And that folks, are a couple of things that we, as a society, a culture and a people, need to adopt so I can get home, just a little bit faster. Especially if I've PVRed a new Kenny vs. Spenny.