Good weddings tend to revolve around some basic building blocks: a happy couple; food; drink; bad jokes in the speeches; silly dancing... This weekend was no exception. If it weren't for the fact that my parents were in charge of ordering the taxi and we therefore left at 11.30pm, I'd be very ill today. As it happens, I'm a little sleepy round the edges but otherwise feeling fine'n'dandy. I continued my red-bottomed streak (a term coined in Knocked Out By My Nunga-nungas and other classic teenage fiction, which I have to read as part of my job. Honest.) by collecting the phone number of the tallest man at the event... ironically appropriate for a short-arse who looked in grave danger of falling out of her pink dress. On the other hand, maybe the likelihood of me falling out of my dress worked in my favour...?! ;-) The bad joke, by the way, was found at the very start of the best man's speech:
Today has been quite an emotional day for everyone involved - even the cake's in tiers
Laugh? You bet! :-)
In other news, a comment floated in to me via that box there on the right; it reads
hi mrs emus!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dear child (it's got to be from a pupil, doesn't it?!) welcome, but please note that I am not a Mrs. At least, I've not noticed a husband knocking around anywhere. Perhaps I'm just looking in the wrong places...
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