bigpimpinmba's Diaryland Diary
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The wedding
This past weekend, Mrs. Pimp and I got dressed up and looked as hot as can be to go to a wedding of one of Mrs. Pimp�s sorority sisters. I forgot how much fun you can have by getting out of the house, getting dressed up and having no social responsibilities except to try to �not take it out� this time.
Nevermind.
Couple of observations from the ceremony:
It was strange being a Roman Catholic at a Roman Catholic Ceremony where 80% of the people at the church were indeed NOT Roman Catholic. Kind of makes you a little more aware of the ceremonies that we take as standard, but may seem odd to other people�. And how l-o-n-g the ceremony is when I compare it to ceremonies of other faiths�
For example� After the communion, the priest cleans off the little bowl that they hold the communion host in and also the chalice that they serve the wine to even minors from. This takes a little while and, though there is all I could do was think that some of my non-Catholic friends were thinking, �Can we hurry this along? Maybe you can wash and I�ll dry?�
Man, some priests can just be awful. I�ve rarely seen a priest �mail it in� like the priest at this wedding. I think at one point, I heard him say, �Kristin, do you take �Insert Grooms Name Here� �� errrrrr�. James�.� From the speech that he downloaded off of CrappyWeddingHomilies.com.
The organist at the church was just a little to excited to be playing his organ (insert awful joke here). I swear that he was going to be called back to play with ELO for the next �Hit Me Baby One More Time.� It was really out of hand how he was trying to be Mr. Fancy-pants organist and at inordinately loud volumes.
Reception:
I have to hand it to James and Kristin� They picked the right place to have their wedding for my fat ass� They had at least 20 different appetizers being pimped out by the servers at the cocktail hour as well as a Chinese food station and pasta station. It was in-freaking-credible. Of course, this is coming from someone who passed over the caviar, lobster risotto, and all other sorts of other delicacies for the pigs in a blanket, so I might not be the best food critic, but Mrs. Pimp even agreed with me.
The highlight of the food night was the desert parade that they rolled out in the middle of the reception (sparklers and theme music included). The best part of the desert parade was the Chocolate Fountain, for which they threw down Twinkies, marshmallows, Zebra cakes, and lots of other awesome treats that my sugar-shocked mind can�t remember for dipping into the sweet chocolaty goodness. You could actually hear my arteries hardening as I shoveled bite after bite of concentrated cholesterol into my mouth.
Even at the church, it was hard to ignore the High stripper/whore factor that seemed to be quite pervasive. (Not that I�m really complaining) It seemed that some of the fine ladies couldn�t wait to show off their new �chest accessories� to everyone. I�m kind of thinking that it was in some of their evil minds to try to temp the priest ala the unic scene in History of the World, Part 1. Maybe that�s why the priest�s homily sucked so bad� He was distracted�.
Even though you would think that some of the strippers would feel comfortable dancing in front of others, this did not seem to be the case. So, it took some quick thinking on my part to quickly install a pole in the middle of the floor and throw a few dollar bills around it to make them feel a little more comfortable. I�m always looking out for the ladies.
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Well, we were seated at our table with eight people we knew and one couple that we didn�t know. The female half of the couple was exactly the stripper type with an obviously purchased set of accessories and a neckline that left nothing to the imagination. Now, I�m naturally quite loud and obnoxious, but put a few gin and tonics in me and put me in a boisterous atmosphere and �Houston, we have a problem.�
I really kick it up a notch.
Even though you may think me a gigantic pig and I would be staring at this chick�s finely crafted cans all night, this really wasn�t the case.
However, in my obnoxious state, I obviously became the source of much disdain for our clear-high-heeled-wearing guest. Just about everyone of my friends came up to me and told me about the awful looks I was apparently drawing from �little miss too good for me and my awesome friends�.
Which is exactly how things play out in strip clubs I�ve been to with my friends� I am loud and obnoxious and usually have my friends rolling with my loud comments and over-the-top physical comedy, but our split-performing, bending-over entertainers always give me the same �What a dick� look. And you know what? It kind of makes me happy to know that I am pissing off little Miss Perfect, who is so used to having guys kiss her ass because she�s hot.
Screw that.
Well, we certainly got a measure of revenge later.
Our group was sitting out in the other room where the cocktail hour was held, having a good time, when my favorite girl came-a sauntering in and sat down at one of the tables across from us. I noticed a few of her less-than-pleasant stares as I continued with my incorrigible behavior and didn�t pay her much attention.
A few minutes later, my friend Bob comes over to me and whispers, �Her Areola is out.�
I need to let you all know that I am writing this entry from the hospital as I am in traction from the force of my head whipping around to see if Bob was right.
Sure as shit, our girl was just sitting there, alone, with the ol� Areola hanging out for the world to see.
Well, I couldn�t help but turn to tell my wife about said areola and to announce in the loudspeaker voice to let everyone know that we had an �AREOLA ALERT IN THE BUILDING!!!�
Ol� fakebags obviously didn�t understand it as she continued to do nothing more than continue to throw dirty looks over at our group, while continuing to present us with her darkened-boob part.
She showed us.
Then, the wedding photographer came over and was snapping pictures and eventually cracked off about 3 rolls of film in the general vicinity of Areola Annie. I can�t say for certain if he was snapping away at her cans, but he was certainly in the area for quite a while.
High comedy.
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Some people should not ever be allowed to dance at a wedding. There is always one guy (and possibly girl) who looks like they have been transported from the epileptic dance marathon into the wedding. And the kicker is that they think that they are the world�s greatest dancer and have the �I�m serious about my moves and don�t mess with me� face going.
I�m not saying that there was or was not someone like that at our wedding, but my wife almost got knocked into next week by someone�s spastic gyrations.
Smacktard.
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And as far as getting knocked over, there was an old lady, probably about 4 foot 10 inches who, no matter how much space I gave her to get by, could not seem to nudge her way past me during the cocktail hour without throwing an elbow into my back. She was one of those little curmudgeons that was wearing the wrap-around sunglasses. You know the type.
You probably didn�t need to know about that, but I found it friggin hysterical for some reason.
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The other fashionista that was there was the woman I deemed Laverne, who wore a very pretty pinky-salmon silk pantsuit.
Wanna see a picture?
(lesson here� Photoshop is nobody�s friend)
I was just waiting for her to start singing 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 - Shameezel, Shamazel�.
Does it seem like at every wedding there is one person who cannot possibly realize that they are going to a wedding later in the day? There was a guy (let�s call him Skeeter) who showed up in cargo pants and a Blue-Light-Special shirt. Now, maybe I could make an excuse for him, but his wife (let�s call her Midge) was in a very nice dress, so she obviously knew what the proper attire for the event was. Is cargo pants and an awful shirt the nicest clothes that Skeeter owns? Was there some sort of give and take when they were getting dressed for the wedding?
Here�s my thoughts on how the dressing-negotiation went:
Skeeter: �OK. I�m ready to go, sweet-ass.�
Midge: �Please don�t call me sweet-ass anymore. And you are NOT wearing that #3 Still Lives shirt to the wedding again.�
Skeeter: �Oh, come on Sugarboobs. You know that I love Dale and I need to show everyone just how far my love reaches.�
Midge: .......
Skeeter: �OK. OK. I�ll just throw on my Jethro Tull �78 Tour shirt on. Everyone loves Tull.�
Midge: �SKEETER!!! You are not wearing that. How about that nice borderline-sweatshirt you got at the swap meet last week?�
Skeeter: �OK honey. But you owe me for this.�
Midge: �Thanks, honey-taint. I love you.�
Skeeter: �You better.�
Yeah. That sounds about right.
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I was tagged by YeahImADork, who rocks the party, rocks the party, even though she is only kind of a dork, so here are 5 things that annoy me:
1) The guy in my class that has to pipe up and add something to every single thing the professor says. Sir, I realize that this is your one time a week where you are allowed out of the house for human interaction, but please spare us your commentary on every frigging thing the professor says.
2) The guy in the fast lane who just sits there and thinks that they should be the moral conscience of all drivers by slowing everyone down because they don�t think that people should be going fast in the fucking FAST LANE!!!! I am talking to anyone who is either doing this on purpose or is just not attentive to what is going on around you. If you keep to the right and only use the left lane to pass, things will run much smoother. If you just hang out in the left lane on the Autobahn in Germany, you can be pulled from your car, beaten, raped, and shot and the perpetrator would be completely in the right. Move over, jackwad.
3) When people say, �whole nother� instead of �another whole� or �whole other�. Also, when people say, �I could care less�. Think about it. You are trying to convey that you don�t care about something at all, but you are saying that you �COULD care less.� Please say I could NOT care less. That means that there is no way that you could care about it any less. Let�s get it straight, people.
4) Anyone who saw and didn�t click on this banner�.
I mean, come on! Captain Oveur asking 8-year-old Joey if he�d ever been in a Turkish prison, ever seen a grown man naked, or if he likes Gladiator movies is hysterical. I�ll give a pass to anyone younger than 25, but if you don�t think that Airplane is one of the funniest movies that was ever made, please find someone to smack you immediately. How is it possible that this banner got the lowest click-through rate of all of the banners that I have run?
5) People who smack their lips when eating or really anywhere else. I CAN�T FREAKING TAKE IT. I have to leave the room if someone is smacking their lips when they eat. Blech.
I�m tagging:
PurpleCigar - Just because I always like hearing from Purple�.
Rhi because you need to update.
Hooterville - You too.
Tell us 5 things that annoy you (and you can�t say that surveys annoy you as one of your answers)
Or don�t tell us what annoys you and we�ll just pretend this never happened.
12:13 p.m. - 2005-07-07
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