Dr_Strabismus
Fuckit, it's just atoms
- Joined
- Oct 22, 2006
- Posts
- 1,196
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There are many ways to make a speech like this.
You can keep it politically correct and lavish tastefully moderate praise on bride and groom.
You can get all sappy and emotional and lavish unmoderated and flowery praise on everything from the happy couple to their mothers, the flower arrangements, the weather and the sizzling hot catering attendant down there by the canapes. No, not you, the other hot one, to your left. Whatever. You know who you are, and you got my number. So please call.
You can tell an endearing and slightly embarrasing anecdote.
You can tell a disgusting and very embarrasing anecdote, thus ruining it totally for the next speaker.
You can recite a poem, sing a song, and if you're really going for social suicide, express your jubilation throuth the means of intepretive dance.
If what I'm about to do falls into any of those categories, it would be the anecdote. The endearing one. But I'd rather give my specal brand of it another label. I'd like to share with you, if you will, a secret. Something that few, if any, know about the radiant bride over there.
Sandra used to be my girlfriend. Yep. I kid you not. She and I were an official item once. We had a stormy relationshop, a long time ago, that lasted for about thirty seconds.
See, this was way back in the days, and when I say, I REALLY mean back. In the days. I was five years old, she was six, and she was the prettiest girl in the sandbox. She was also the only girl in the sandbox, but that's beside the point. She was a Girl, and I had just learned that there was a word called Girlfriend. "Girlfriend" was something that was somebody's. That much I understood. And it was apparently a Good Thing to have one.
So I went up to her and asked her "Hi! Do you wanna be my girlfriend?" She looked up from her sand and mud rendition of ... uh ... could have been the battle of Versailles, I didn't ask, she didn't tell. Anyway, she looked up and gave me a three second curious glare, before answering "yeah".
And that. Was that. A little befuddled I stood there, unsure of what to do next. I was kind of pleased of having established having-a-girlfriend status, since that made me Cool. But what do you do with a girlfriend? Do you have to ... feed it?
Well, she answered that. With a miscevious grin, she took hold of the hem of my pants, pulled them straight out, and poured a bucket of wet sand down my netherworld.
That's when I realised that our relationship would never be anything but platonic.
So I want to thank the groom for taking the crazy lady off my hands in an as permanent fashion as legally possible. She's a riot at parties, a scorching beauty and a solid friend. And if you play your cards right, she'll no doubt keep you happy for the rest of your life. But if she ever wants to build a sand castle with you ... be afraid, be very, very afraid.
Do you do Bar Mitzvahs?Liar said:90% adlib after tapping the glass.