With the Dagger wedding almost fully planned and looming on the horizon, and since the wedding I’ll actually have differs drastically from the wedding I envisioned in college, I thought it appropriate to share with the CJS faithful the wedding I dreamt up there.
So, if you’re female, be prepared to be horrified and sit in wonderment at what crazy voodoo spell I put on Lady E to convince her to marry my goofy ass. And if you’re male, be prepared for a fantasy thrill ride putting every wedding you’ve ever been to to shame and sit in jealousy wondering, “Fuck, that’s great. Why didn’t I think of that?” If you’re not married, there’s still time. Feel free to poach any one of these ideas, run them by your lady, and if she says yes to any of them, propose on the spot. Trust me. If a woman agrees to any of the ridiculous bullshit I’ve concocted here, stop your search for a soul mate because you’ve found her. The odds of a woman liking anything I’ve written below hover somewhere between 1,000-1 and 8 zillion-1. In other words, Vegas no longer has these odds on the board.
A quick word before we begin: I realize it’s not normal for a guy to consider his dream wedding. Inexplicably I dated five girls in a row who asked me what my dream wedding was. I didn’t know. This was college, for fuck’s sake. I was usually just trying to find the path of least resistance into her pants. Eventually I got tired of the question, became fed up with the entire process of dating, and improvised a hilariously absurd answer on the spot so we wouldn’t have to talk anymore, she’d ask me to leave, and I could go home to my roommates and play Madden.
But as I cooked up this dream wedding, the more I talked about it, the more I liked it. And I idiotically thought to myself, “Hey, this might be cool to ACTUALLY do some day. There’s bound to be some girl out there who appreciates this.” (Quick aside: There isn’t.) So my fantasy devolved into some misguided notion that I could get away with things like Slip ‘N Slides, Zebrahead, and cereal at the reception at a real live wedding. I know. I’m retarded.
One other quick thing: I hadn’t thought about this wedding until a couple days ago when in a conversation with F-U-Natalie, she asked if there would be cereal at my wedding. This sparked my memory and drove me to share this with you all. The reason I hadn’t thought about it in so long is that I actually like Lady E, and want to get married to her. I used to describe this fantasy wedding to get annoying college girls to leave me alone. The wedding we’ll have in real life is shaping up to be quite fun and a bit off-kilter (I suspect). In addition to being wildly impractical, the wedding outlined below would cause even more turmoil to two families already neurotic about this wedding to begin with.
Enough rambling. Here’s E Dagger’s former dream wedding. We’ll break this down into essential elements.
1) The Walk Down the Aisle
Simply walking down the aisle is passé. Everyone walks down the aisle, why hasn’t there been a shift in this boring paradigm in 2000 years? Everyone walks all the time, so why would you want to do the same thing on the biggest day of your life as you do in the grocery store, while shopping for carpet swatches, or heading past the godforsaken bus station on your way to work? That’s dreadfully uncreative thinking on every level.
So you can imagine how inspired I was to see this gem on YouTube where the bride and groom along with the whole wedding party dance down the aisle. That’s how you make an entrance! It’s fun, it’s creative, and it’s memorable for everyone who attends the wedding. I loved everything about this walk down the aisle. But why not take it to the next level?
So when designing my ultimate wedding I asked myself, what’s the most fun thing you can possibly do? The answer: Slip ‘N Slide!
Think about it. When have you ever had a bad time on a Slip ‘N Slide? The answer: Never! I met Deuce’s mom the first time throwing a water balloon at Senor Limon who slid giddily down our Slip ‘N Slide in the front yard of our college house. No one ever has a bad time on a Slip ‘N Slide. No one ever responds to the question “What are you doing this weekend?” with a sad response of, “Oh, I have to go Slip ‘N Sliding this weekend, goddammit.” It’s easily the most ebullient way you can travel 60 feet on earth. You go fast, you have a smile on your face the whole way, and I guarantee you no one has ever committed their love to another person after doing so. If more people did, I also guarantee that you’d see a sharp decline in the divorce rate because everyone who did would always know their partner was up for a good time. Tell me this is a bad idea.
Did I mention I fully planned on doing this in a church? Finding a church to approve this will prove at least equally as difficult as getting a woman to agree to it. But hey, if we’re going to dream, why not dream big?
2) The Best Man
Okay, so the practice of choosing a Best Man is a lot like getting the first pick during a football game at recess in elementary school. Everyone always thinks they should be picked first no matter how many passes they drop, how many interceptions they throw, or just how fucking slow they are. You only get one Best Man, and chances are excellent you’re hurting someone else’s feelings no matter who you bestow the honor upon. So why put yourself through that?
The solution: Best Man Over the Top Rope Battle Royale!
The bride and groom are always front and center during a wedding. They’re the main event, and deservedly so. But like an epic title fight, your main event needs an undercard. That’s where the Best Man Battle Royale comes into play. We set up a wrestling ring stage left of the bride and groom and put a single spotlight on it. Every one of your guests will arrive and wonder what the hell is up with the wrestling ring. Little do they know they’re not only there for a wedding, they’ll be treated to a fight too!
Choose 10 of your best friends (that number is arbitrary by the way – choose 8, choose 13, hell, choose 30! These are your friends, put as many people in there as you want), let them choose entrance music, give them some pyro, give them each an awesome nickname (like “The Snake” or “The Gas Master” if you have a friend who farts a lot), and let them have a brief moment in the spotlight. Encourage some of them to go heel and tear up one of your nephew’s autograph books on the way to the ring to get some heat. He’s in on the gag, so don’t worry.
And once everyone’s in there, ring the bell, and let them go at it. Hire the local independent wrestling promoter for $100 and let him do running commentary on the proceedings. Action not moving briskly enough for you? Toss a steel chair or two into the ring and watch it get interesting. Once only two guys are left, tell everyone to get out the Japanese drums you’ve provided them with like the end of Karate Kid II and get them to twist them drumming one person onto victory while the music goes from ominous to inspiring. Then get Peter Cetera, who’s likely available, to play “I am the man who will fight for your honor” as your Best Man stands triumphant.
Eventually someone will win, and you have your Best Man. He survived a Battle Royale with 9 other of your idiot friends; he truly is THE BEST MAN. Award him the Intercontinental Championship Belt (more on belts later), and let him slap hands with the appreciative audience. I assure you everyone will love this and think to themselves, “Holy shit, I need a beer.”
Rings are good and should absolutely be part of your vows. The problem is that no one can see them from the audience. What you need is a gesture much larger and more eye-popping. And since your Best Man is already wearing the Intercontinental Championship Belt, you know what’s coming next.
That’s right. You and your lady will be awarded Champions of Marriage. Make sure your officiant has a good set of pipes because when he announces you as a couple for the first time, he’s making like one of the Buffer brothers (I prefer Bruce, myself) and really fucking announcing you.
“Ladies and gentlemen, after 4 years of dating and 1 year of engagement, we go to the legal scorecards. All three sanctioning state bodies declare the winner by legal marriage certificate sealed with a kiss…and….NEEEEEEWWWWWW!!!!… happily married couple… E Daaaaaggggggeeeerrr and Laaaaadddddyyyyy E!!!”
As he gives you your spine-tingling introduction, your Best Man and Maid of Honor put your new Champions of Marriage Title Belts around your waist and you raise your arms in victory together. I’m getting chills just thinking about this.
4) The Communion
Hart alluded to wanting to have a Bar Mitzvah party in college where everyone wore yarmulkes, drank Manischewitz, and did that awesome chair dance. What he left out is that Limon and I briefly considered having a Catholic party where we’d serve shots of Jagermeister in a communion tray, have a Confessional where everyone could admit their horrible indiscretions (from that very party) and have to enact penance with drink amounts, and games of Super Asshole where instead of running out of cards and declaring “President” and “Vice President” you’d proclaim “God,” “Jesus,” “Moses” and so on until the asshole was “Judas.” The beer bitch was Mary Magdelene, I think. This would have been an awesome party, but it understandably made some of our more religiously inclined friends a little nervous.
How does this tie into the wedding? Well, the Communion Tray goes around your guests filled with Jager, and everyone gets a beer from the kegs stationed at the back. The wedding then goes on, but to encourage your family and friends to pay attention, you make the ceremony a drinking game. Every time someone says “love” – take 1 drink. “Commitment” – 2 drinks. Both bride and groom say “I do” – drink your Jager. Anyone objects to the wedding of these two people – finish your beer. Including trigger words will ensure no one gets bored during the ceremony, and with a little lubrication beforehand, the reception promises to be that much more fun. You’re picturing this now and wondering how you can make it happen, aren’t you? You’re already devising a game of trigger words and wondering where your flask is for the next wedding you have to attend, I can tell.
5) The Reception Food
Lady E and I don’t often go out to dinner. The best food you can have is most often the food you cook yourself at home. We appreciate good food as much as anyone, but it’s just so damned expensive and time consuming. We’ve been to about 30 weddings in the last four years, so while we appreciate being fed when we make the effort to get dressed up on a Saturday, drive to whatever dumpy town the wedding is held in, pop for a gift, and sit through an occasionally brutal ceremony, the meal is always the thing that disrupts a good wedding party. Everyone hangs out and chats during the cocktail hour, has a few belts, is all set to party down, and you suddenly have to sit down, sober up and have dinner for an hour and a half. Really screws up the flow of the evening. That’s why our wedding is heavy hors d’oeuvres, cocktails and cake. Nothing fancy, just fun appetizers, booze, and then it’s party time.
It was an incredible twist of fate that we agreed on this, because it’s not much different than how I envisioned this in college. The main difference is that my real wedding will be absent one Cereal Bar. You know how at brunch places, they’ll often have like a $3 bloody Mary bar? The waitress will give you a glass of vodka with ice in it, and then you’ll go over and add your own level of tomato juice, Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco, lime juice, and whatever the hell else. Well, this is basically the same concept except instead of Bloody Marys, there’d be a huge assortment of cereal.
In college, nothing was better than waking up after a huge night of Crown & Ginger Ales than plopping down on the couch for a Real World/Road Rules Challenge marathon or a few episodes of watching awkward teenagers on Made with a nice bowl of Frosted Flakes to whisk away your hangover. The cereal served as a little wake up call to your stomach to let it know that it was time to metabolize this alcohol, and that reinforcements were coming via the impending 11:00 trip to the greasy breakfast place where old people and hungover college kids coexisted peacefully.
And besides… when was the last time you ate Lucky Charms or Count Chocula? It’s probably been years unless you’re a weird man-child like Hart and eat it every day. Like you wouldn’t want some sugary cereal just for fun after drinking yourself silly during the ceremony game. Aside from that, a fine assortment of bar food would line the reception hall from fried mac ‘n cheese wedges to chicken nachos to Tombstone pizza all would be there for additional sustenance. In short, the set-up is similar to the underworld depicted in Little Monsters with all of your juvenile food cravings but a few steps away.
Additionally, instead of carving stations, there’d be drinking stations. Men in big white hats would artfully offer you and your lady a beer bong (2009 update: Flabongo). Down the way from them would be an ice luge. Next station: A man with a handy knife prepares you and your party for a round of shotgunning cans of PBR. And so on. And so on. College alcoholism was weird.
6) The Music
Last thing. You need good tunes to have a truly epic wedding, and what better way to celebrate than by hiring good time party punk band Zebrahead? Wedding bands are largely terrible playing that Lawrence Welk shit your grandparents will love, but your friends will hate and escape to the nearest bar to check out the CSU/Utah score. A DJ is fine, but everyone who doesn’t regret later hiring some awful band, gets a DJ, and they’re pretty hit or miss themselves. Besides, if I have to hear “Livin’ on a Prayer” one more goddamn time in my life, I’m liable to cut someone’s fucking head off. I swear to God…
So, how to solve this? Hire a kickass band with good party tunes, bouncy sing-a-long choruses, and a frenetic energy that will take your party from merely excellent, to fucking transcendent. Zebrahead’s the perfect band because you can likely get them for reasonably cheap, they’ll be sure to hang out and party, and when needed, they can always bust out Zebrahead Request Hour like they do at their shows and play everything from Michael Jackson to Weezer to Ozzy Osbourne. This band is crunchy, they’ll play all your requests. Besides, I’ve met them before, and they’re fucking awesome dudes to boot.
I soured a bit on having a band play the wedding when I watched “Bam’s Unholy Union” and saw Iggy and the Stooges play his wedding. Everyone was there to see Iggy Pop, not the wedding, and eventually the party devolved into a giant, shitass mosh pit, which is no fun. You want everyone dancing, people jumping up and down, and a friendly, upbeat party vibe. Zebrahead is perfect.
So to recap:
1) Don’t walk, Slip ‘N Slide.
2) Let’s get ready to rumble!
3) And NEEEWWWW….
4) Beer Usher, get me another beer!
5) Cereal, bar food, and yes, more drinks.
6) The Mutha’ Fuckin’ Zebrahead Bitch.
It’s no wonder I didn’t date any of the girls I laid this wedding on for more than a week afterward. While they droned on about flowers, tasteful music, and expensive food, I countered with visions of punk rock, WWE style fighting, and eating cereal in the middle of the evening.
Of course, now that I’m older and about to get married for real, I realize how silly this whole proposition is. Our wedding is shaping up to be enormous fun, and I can’t wait to get there. The wedding above is impractical, and would likely piss off whatever family we have that isn’t already pissed at us for some other reason about this wedding. And since we’re ultimately peacekeepers, I’m okay with that. I’ve let this wedding go…
Until we renew our vows 30 years from now. We’ll be nearly 60 years old, all the old people in our family will likely be dead or too senile to care, and we can annoy our kids with our petulant refusal to grow up. It’ll be great!
See you in 2039!
06 Aug 2009 E Dagger