DING DING DING. So right.

I’m beg to differ.

Yup. Saddest wedding I ever worked at was one where the bride, a beautiful Korean woman, had her *whole family flown* from Korea, and had just the most exquisite dress was just sooo crushed because her new husband kept sneaking out to the porch to drink with his buddies. Just completely ignored the new family he’d…

Thats not so bad, I went to a weeding in Texas and the groom wouldn’t dance with the bride. He just sat at a table with his buddies drinking cans of beer with the monogrammed camo koozies party favors.

If her uncles are anything like mine, HE would be the one getting shit for years.

Holy shit. Knowing myself I would’ve left the party on the spot, and the guy would not count on me being with him for much longer. Not only do I detest drunks, I hate being embarrassed and disrespected like this. I have no sense of humor for such shenanigans. Alcohol consumption is just one of those things that if you…

1. My husband isn’t this stupid, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it if we did do this. But honey, this is where you get up out of that chair and walk away. It’s OK. You didn’t have to put up with it just because you just married him and he’s trashed.

2. We didn’t do any garter- or bouquet-tossing, or cake-smashing…

Whoever documented her shame and then put it on the internet deserves an eternity of public humiliations. I hope they crap themselves at work or on the metro or while on a first date. The universe should right this wrong. And I hope in their moment of embarrassment they realize that what they are experiencing is…

Especially because a lot of people pay to get their makeup done, or they have false eyelashes on or something, and you really don’t want a bunch of icing to fuck it up.

Me too. If I were as upset and humiliated as she was, I’d definitely want a few friends to just come up and hover inches from my face, kissing my cheeks every two seconds.

The cake smashing is the one I can’t deal with. It comes across, to me, as either a dick move on an unsuspecting partner or a weird exercise in latent hostility.

Why are we still doing this shit?

What do you mean you’re not taking me on vacation with you?

My dad rescued an abused Doberman back in the 70’s (and by rescue I mean stole from the owner because he witnessed the abuse). This dog literally hated and distrusted everyone except for my dad. She got out one day and a neighbor my dad had never met brought her back, she was letting him pet her and everything. My dad…

My cousin had this little Papillion mix who detested any kind of wrestling or scuffling between people. You could be sitting on the couch and smack the person’s knee next to you—or heck, your own knee—and he’d come running through the house to growl and snap at whoever’s hands until they stopped. He took peacekeeping…

Went to Gettysburg when I was a kid with my mother, my brother, and my grandmother. My grandmother, who can’t drive for shit, drove the whole way and refused to let my mother take the wheel. So we were treated to her constantly stopping on the goddamn interstate to check and see if she had missed her exit, while cars…

ooh! Ooh! My mom’s family is from S. Florida, so “family vacation” always meant “visit Gramma and Grampa in Ft. Lauderdale. Cool. It has a beach! My grandparents live like, on the damn beach so my brother and I would jump out of the car, throw on a swim suit and run head long into the water on a semi public-ish beach…

I’m not sure how much of an outright disaster this is, but it was pretty funny, so I figured I’d share.