and then the day after you get married you can make an offer on a house.
No shit, man. I mean, I want all y'all to come party with me if I ever get married, but I'd much rather get married in my back yard, in a $100 dress, and take the $30,000 for a house. (Or crystal meth. Whatever.)
Um, no. Not unless I get to make my husband strip in front of the crowd and then take off his undergarments.
Which I would totally support you in, should you decide to go that route (or the marriage route at all) one day. IJS.
But what if I marry a fat hairy guy with enormous manboobs?
Potato salad with mayonnaise or vinegar dressing?
Mayo. Thus leading to the tradition of the boss going home shortly after the ritual to avoid having his shoes go bad....
the whole "our friends will have a screw pantomime on the dance floor" seems pretty obvious to me.
God, I feel dense--what's this?
The Electric Slide.
(Not really.)
the whole "our friends will have a screw pantomime on the dance floor" seems pretty obvious to me.
God, I feel dense--what's this?
Ooh, is it the Macarena?
Or the
Wedding Lambada: The Forbidden Electric Slide
?
The Olaf Olafson thing became unwieldy
Yes, it's still very unwieldy in Iceland. At least at the last time I was there, the phone book was still alphabetized by firstnames, because the lastnames had little meaning. Imagine having to wade through all of the Jennifers in town to find the one you are looking for. And, of course, Jennifer has a different lastname than her parents and her children.
Actually, the Jennifer list in Reykjavik is probably pretty small, but you know what I mean.
I like raunchy weddings (maybe I won't invite my parents to mind) and although there are no formalised ways to sex up the groom, that can be rectified in an ad hoc fashion.
I've been to a wedding reception that included the bride pulling the groom toward her by his tie, often. Is that sexed-up enough?
Which reminds me to nitpick: ita, I hope you do NOT mean raunchy weddings, but rather raunchy receptions. Just checking.
But what if I marry a fat hairy guy with enormous manboobs?
In that case, I believe tradition dictates that all underwear-tossing ceremonies be replaced by the two of you stepping back and the spotlight falling upon a troupe of trained monkeys who do an interpretive manboob dance choreographed to Nijinski's "Rites of Spring." I think. Gimme a second to check my Emily Post.
Actually, I meant raunchy weddings in that I was thinking of the bride and groom kiss.
The rest of it can be very asexual. Then pick up the sex baton at the reception.
