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Real Wedding Stories

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  • Kristina wrote us on Facebook, and her worst wedding guest certainly isn’t getting any #1 Dad mugs.

My worst wedding guest was my biological father. My step father has been a major part of my life for over 20 years so I asked him to give me away. My biological father has been in and out of my life my entire life and I really haven’t seen him more than a handful of times since I was a teenager (I’m 31 now).

Anyhow, my father showed up at the wedding in a ripped t-shirt, denim shorts, and grass stained sneakers.He started crying when he saw my step father walk me down the aisle and got up walked out, not avoiding making a scene. My cousin (his nephew) ran out after him and my father told him that he thought he was going to walk me down. Dressed like that… yeah right. He ended up leaving before the reception started but not without making me feel like the worst daughter in the world.

All of his family, who were around and aware of all the times he abandoned me, said that I was cruel for doing that to him and left too. I to this day still feel this overwhelming sense of guilt every time I think about my wedding day. It turned out that I made the right choice though. I’ve been married for 3 years and have 9 month old twins. I called him when I found out I was pregnant and he told me he couldn’t wait to be a grandfather so he could fix the mistakes he made with me. I haven’t heard from him since and he lives less than a mile away from me.

  • Reader Kari has experience on both ends of the worst guest equation.

At my wedding, my step dad walked me down the aisle. My grandpa (my biological dads dad) brought his ex wife who he was dating again and after the ceremony she walked up to my step dad and told him ” I just want you to know how uncomfortable you made everyone feel” because my family wanted my biological dad to walk me down the aisle.

Separate story, my husband was the best man in his best friends wedding. This friend got particularly trashed at our wedding so he decided to “get him back”. He drank a fifth of whiskey before the ceremony. Barely made it down the aisle and then proceeded to stand over the buffet with fork in hand eating off of it. Then while waiting for the dance to start, yelled at me in front of everyone for letting him get so drunk. When he gave his best man speech he just talked about how the couple used to break up all the time until he was clapped off…

  • What is it about brothers’ girlfriends, the most common entry for this category? Lea, for one, would like to know.

Here’s one from my own wedding. Invited my brother, who I hadn’t seen in ages. At the last minute, he asked if he could bring a guest. I agreed. We had buffets at both the rehearsal dinner and the wedding.At the rehearsal dinner, his guest, a girl (not sure if they were dating or what), pushes in front of the rest of my family and bridal party at the food line, and says, “Well, the bride has her food, so its my turn now.”

My brother wasn’t even in line yet. She then kept him away from my family the whole night (mind you, we haven’t seen him in months). At the wedding she shows up in a dress the same color as my bridesmaids dresses (my brother had asked me what color they were wearing, and I told him she shouldn’t wear that color specifically). Same thing at the wedding buffet – she pushes in right behind my husband and I, and then had the gall to complain about the food right behind me.

She and my brother drink the whole night, ignore me and my family, and when they are leaving, my brother cussed me out and called me a drunk. I had one glass of wine. I don’t even remember this girl’s name, but she shows up in all the pictures of my husband and I getting food.

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Funny Weirdo Haircuts Drive Us Nuts!

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The problem with young people today is that they have crazy haircuts.

In my day, a lad had two choices for a haircut – a crew cut or a flat top and both cost 50 cents. You went to the barber every Saturday morning with your old dad, had your ears raised and were grateful to look like every other kid on your block.

But these young people today. They all want to “express themselves” with their weirdo hairdos!

They walk around with their spiky bangs, corn rows, streaky uplifts, mohawks, faux hawks and wigged out sideburns. It’s a carnival freak show but without the popcorn.

If I had ever come home with a multi-colored mullet and a bum fluff goatee my old dad would have used me as a stump and split a cord of wood on my back.

It’s showy and disrespectful. Plumped and preening like a bunch of randy roosters let loose in a hen house. Disgraceful. I say they should round those damned young people up and sheer them down like the sheep they’re supposed to be.

It’s dangerous I tell you and it leads to anarchy and loose morals. It won’t be long before willy nilly hair styles aren’t enough for them anymore and they start frothing at the mouth, burning down post offices, practicing communism and forcing seniors to sport dreadlocks, rattails, moptops and worse.

And mark my god damned words, when that day comes we are all going to be well and truly sorry.

They have crazy haircuts. That’s the problem with young people today.

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Oh God! Young People Need to Toughen the Hell Up

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The problem with young people today is that they’re too damned soft.

In my day, young people were tough, damn it. We were gristly, sinewy and hard as nails. My generation was forged in a furnace of fiery parents, sweltering outhouses, creamed chip beef and the type of childhood diseases that either killed you or put some damned hair on your chest.

We had to be hard – conditions demanded it. There was no room for mollycoddling and teenaged slackassery. We couldn’t lie around in our underpants all day levelling up in Donkey Kong and text messaging our idiot friends. We were too busy rendering sheep fat, toting ice blocks and extracting our own teeth for that kind of foolishness. Our “down time” was getting dressed up in flour sack suits and attending the funerals of siblings who had died of dust pneumonia.

But these young people today? They’re marshmallows. And the similarity extends beyond their squishy plumpness and incredible lack of taste. Most have never done a lick of honest work and wouldn’t recognized a calloused palm if you clapped them across the ear with one.

They don’t understand what it means to sacrifice or to go without. For them, sacrifice is eating an unfrosted pop tart, fornicating with an unflavored condom or settling for less than an unlimited phone plan. Take away their cushy duvets, parental fawning and Junior Shopper credit cards and they wouldn’t last 5 damned minutes in the cold hard world.

And they’re emotionally soft too. Call a young person a worthless ninnyhammer and he’ll whinge, cry and fold up like a house of cards just to prove you right. Criticism’s considered some form of abuse instead of what it’s supposed to be – a practical assessment of your obvious limitations and some damned motivation to prove me wrong.

Face facts, this country is deep in the toilet and one flush away from becoming “Runningdoghai” the 23rd Province of the People’s Republic of China. If we ever want to return our nation to its former glory we need to stop raising a generation of spongy cry-babies and get back to work on hardening our resolve, our bodies and our minds.

They’re too damned soft. That’s the problem with young people today.

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Sensible Careers – A Joke!

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It’s high time we brought back good old fashioned jobs like costermongers, spittleman, wheeltappers, pettifoggers, pig jobbers, quarrel pickers and knock knobblers.

American Barbershop Idol

Surely to God we’ve exhausted this nation’s supply of caterwauling nancy boys and are ready to bring some damned decent singing back to the national stage. Four part harmonies plus straw boaters equals toe-tapping, good clean family fun.

Cursive Writing

And I don’t mean swearing. I mean putting pen to paper. They may be able to text 80 words a minute but ask them write a sentence longhand and it comes out looking like something a chimp would produce with a pointed stick and mitt full of mashed blackberries.

The Power of Positive Gumption

All this new age, positive-thinking hokum smacks me as being the worst kind of bumph since Clark Stanley sold his first bottle of snake oil elixir back in 1893.

Positive thinking as a means to an end is like the American Dream – it’s fine in theory but really only helpful to those with good genes, rich families and access to a decent education. For everyone else – it’s sleight of hand and empty platitudes.

For 2012, instead of folks assuming they can set their life right with little more than a combination of visualizations, affirmations and positive mental brainwaves, I’d like to see people attempting to set reasonable goals and then achieving them through a combination of hard work, determination and the power of positive gumption.

Enjoy your New Year’s Eve but keep the damned noise down. I’ll be in bed by 9:30.

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