WeddingsAttending a wedding is like being handed a licence to act like a twat. Oh how I laughed when I sobered up and realised I'd nicked most of the plates and cutlery from the posh hotel lunch and those vague memories of stealthily exiting like a cat-burglar had in-fact involved falling out of the hotel, knives and forks clattering onto the steps.
Tell us your wedding stories.
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chthonic, Thu 14 Jul 2005, 15:19)
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Stuck in the reception.At my aunt and uncle's wedding, the reception was held in their flat.
The door to the living room had a dodgy handle and one was always told not to slam the door in case the handle fell off, rendering the door unopenable.
It dropped off, trapping the revellers and being six years of age and of a suitable small stature, I was asked to climb through the hatch leading to the kitchen, to open the door from the other side.
Landing in the large bowl of cheap dog food on the other side, I was not best pleased (standing in shit would have stunk less). Trying to get it from their alsatian was a bit trickier as it had decided to gnaw on the cheap plastic handle.
Figuring that it would drop it if I opened the front door, I did so and the mutt bolted for it with the handle in its mouth. Down eight floors I had to chase the bastard before it lost interest in the handle.
(, Thu 14 Jul 2005, 18:33, Reply)
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