Friday, June 29, 2007

Weddings...

Spate of weddings recently. Can't believe I'm at that stage where I'm midway into my third decade of being alive on this earth.

I whine about my 15 hour workdays.

Well guess what? My liver, lungs, brain, heart, etc, have been faithfully serving me for the last 24.5 years, 24/7. Thats one tough job, considering my lifestyle or ex lifestyle of..nvm.

Gotta take care. Maintain the youthful (read youngish) looks that I get commented on pretty often. Ahem. I guess being pint sized helps. But girls nowdays say want the mature look. Well, ah, I can't be bothered mate. Plenty of time for that later. Now still look young, why not look young instead of trying to look old. Then when old trying to look young. In Mandarin it is called lao hiao, and that ain't me style chum.

Anyway..back to the topic at hand. So. Weddings.

Seeing all these weddings and stuff reminded me of my cousin sister and my own sister's weddings, where the bridgeroom goes to ze bride's abode and proceeds to (with the aid of his able buddies) fight through the huge stack of obstacles thrown at them by the giggling hordes of bridesmaids. Well I for one would not stand for it. See how unsporting I am? As a groom, all I want is my bride. I want me woman and I want her now. Come hell or highwater. To heck with all these things that stand btw us. Been waiting a shitload of time, ain't waiting a sec more.

So if I ever get married, big if now, I'm going to announce my arrival with a grand blaring of horns, assisted by the modified speakers of my sportscar (no traditional Mercedes for me Jose) blasting out some adrenaline pumping tune. Anyone looking for wedding trumpets can look elsewhere. Would love to come on a powerful sleek motorbike but considering that the bride doesn't alwiz get to dress up, wouldn't want to ruin her perfect makeup and watnot, right? Then, I'd hop outta the car, and go right on up.

Put a chair in my way. I'd hop over it. Put a table. I'd shove it aside. Put games and challenges. I've no time for it. No fun, thats my middle name. Shall barrage through all and sundry, stop at the door of my missus and bang on it. Open up baby!

At this point, the bridesmaids will laugh n squeal n watnot behind the doors n make me do/answer stupid ridicilous stuff. Well.

Very simple. Bring along a professional lockpick. Make him pick the damn lock while pretending to answer. And then march right in. If cannot pick, just give them warning, then kick down the damn obstacle (door) btw us. Nothing stopping me from her now, can almost smell and feel her soft hands. Heck care the crooning hens. Walk right in, plant a big long kiss on my WIFE, ignore and shake away the tearing hands at me (no Alex, it's not right!). Then lift her right up, and we'd go right down, pop into the car. And away we'd go, horns blaring.

Come to think of it, riding off on a white horse sounds good too.

Come to think of it, if her room had one of those adjoining toilets perhaps I could go in, snitch my wife away, and leave the hens there gaggling and crooning with my buddies pretending to be me and take her awayyy...

Yep. Not an ounce of romance.

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