Here we go again! That extra special month where women go insane and for some reason June 4th is the date. If they aren’t marrying someone, by god, somebody better be getting married. The national economy depends on that genetic defect in women that go screaming into the night over the flowers that will be in that little vase as one of the guests walk by. And for god’s sake please tell her you noticed that little vase and compliment her over, and over, and over again. She spent six months on perfecting that one little item alone.
Then there’s the dress. OMG – shoot me now. In my wildest dreams I never thought they could make a reality show called Bridezilla. What is with you women, REALLY? Do you secretly go into your closets on your 1 year anniversary and salivate on the plastic covering? You wear it once for a very short time and the groom is doing his best to strip you out of it. Some of these weddings cost tens of thousands of dollars. You’d think they might want to invest it for the future. Oh no, there can be no holding back for the princess of her once a life-time moment. This is why I will ban all Disney movies if I ever get a granddaughter. It places images into their minds, which then modifies their genetics and turns them into GMO’s (Girly Mangled Organism.) You think a three-year old can throw a fit, just watch a bride.
Then women have to have the weddings in June. Outside. Outside without any shade. Well here in Oklahoma it might be 109 degrees without a moments notice. There the men, dressed in tuxedos are sweating like feral pigs in heat, while the brides and her maids have low cut dresses to expose cleavage, (or so men thought), when in fact is that how they control the wedding and who suffers. If a man ever mentions a fall or winter wedding, a Bridezilla’s hissy fit comes with flames. Of course there is the incessant crying by all the other females in attendance. Why? I haven’t a clue, this why I write this monthly post, so that someone can explain it to me. They say it’s a happy cry.
Then there are the rings. You ladies get a 5 caret diamond, while we guys get a gold band. If I had to do it all over again I would have held out for a diamond studded Rolex, with an automatic anniversary reminder. I would also want my very own tuxedo, with gold buttons. And when I didn’t get what I wanted I’d throw a fit, such a fit that they’d create a new reality show named Groomollum. “Yes precioussss, we must have the one Rolex, yessss.”
Now, doesn’t that just sound silly? Of course it does, it’s illogical and without reason, but we are talking about women now, so throw out all the books on philosophy and logic. This is why Aristotle was single and lucky wedding lingerie didn’t exist yet.
Then there is the reception where the bride receives a POD load of gifts; like cooking ware, followed by a microwave. Guess which one she cries over? Nowhere in there is a wide screen television, golf clubs or XboX 3600.1. Hey people, there’s a guy here too! Now as the lovely couple nears the wedding night, the guy is going on and on about the pricey wedding. This is where the simplistic genetics of a man come shining through. Out of the closet comes the bride in a lacy Thinga Mabob and our attentions shift quickly like a hunting dog. SQUIRREL!
I am sure Eve brought the Apple to Adam, which Satan gave visions of a Fredericks of Hollywood catalog, and Adam was instantly doomed by the iFruit. Weddings! Who invented this insanity?