Before I begin helping you, let me make it clear that I’m not an expert at being married. I’ve only been married twice before, first to America, which ended when I was attacked by an eagle. Later, I was married to irony and, even though we split up due to her infidelity with hipsters, we still remain close friends and still talk about how much we love things that suck together.
I didn’t receive the “get married after college” memo that some of my friends got. I have a habit of checking my mailbox once every three months, and that’s mainly to see if I can get cheaper pizzas. Therefore, assuming the letter was made of love and kindness, it probably rotted away before I could get to it. So, sorry cupid. I’m sure who ever got matched up to me in your letter scheme will find someone else. I was too busy tweeting about how good Southern Comfort with Lime was.
I’ve been to a few weddings, and before I was 21, they basically served as continuous tests of my tolerance for sitting beside old people, not sneezing and trying to figure out how exactly I could get to the fruit/cracker/cheese trays before everyone else. After 21, they’ve become glorious celebrations of the happiness shared by two people, and I’ve become the best damn wedding speech giver anyone has ever seen. My metaphors, comparing the couple to a Ninja Turtle and April, the reporter, bring tears to the eyes of everyone, and I’ll only stop with the stream of love-speak when the whispers of “I told you to distract him from the bar” become too loud.
Weddings can be great and they can be awful, and I don’t know where people get wedding planning tips from, (Good Housekeeping maybe?) but, I’m here to give better ones. Never again will your guests sit bored, hoping that someone faints or bursts into white light or that a dog pees comically on a small child. After you read and abide by this, they’ll be too busy suffering from a this-is-great coma, and you’ll be too busy making out a long time with your hot wife on a stage. Don’t worry. It’s so cool that the audience won’t care.
Matrimony Tip 1
When creating a wedding, don’t go for themes like “Star Wars” or “classical” or “between trees.” Think more of themes along the lines of “cheapest vodka available” and “how big can the torch be.” People who attend can be baffled and made uncomfortable by themes that they don’t want to comply to. Don’t force the brother you see once a year to dress like a droid in order to feel necessary. With themes like “open bar for the beard and above,” there’s no one who’ll be left out. Themes need to be recognizable and easily applicable.
Matrimony Tip 2
Make families interact. In a few weddings I’ve been to, the families still seem to mistrust each other, as if their waiting for the groom to be stabbed suddenly and they’ll have to go on a thirty-minute strangling spree to retain their honor. The best way to remedy this is through forced conversation. Write a list of required lines for people to say and the name of who they have to say this to. Create two hats, one for each family, and hand them out. That way, there will be no awkward silences and, if worse comes to worse, they can always say, “I’m not too sure of this marriage. But I know Alice Walker, and I know that when she was fourteen, she used to imagine scorpions in her brain.”
Matrimony Tip 3
Disguise the invitations as something much cooler then a wedding. When you get a card that says “You’re invited to witness the union of two people…” you’ll probably sigh and regret that you have to put on shoes. But, if you receive a card that says “These two know you hate them, but they’re doing this shit anyway. Don’t let the words burn your skin. Hate the date,” you’ll have no choice but to attend.
Make the guests fear that, if they don’t come, they’ll miss something great. Tell them that, if they come, they’ll get a high five from Jet Li. And when they attend and Jet Li isn’t there, act offended. “He’s a martial artist and he’s fucking busy, Mom. Give him some slack.”
Matrimony Tip 4
Rent couches. I don’t know who decided that every chair in a wedding had to induce some sort of ass-bone nightmare fever, but it’s been this way for far too long. Rent things to sit on with actual cushions. Your guests will appreciate being able to slouch as they watch two young adults smile nervously at each other.
Matrimony Tip 5
Get the best catering, but the cheapest alcohol. Nothing sucks worse than being forced to socialize when you’ve just been cut off because “there’s none left.” The meals should be awesome, and if you have gallons of cheap liquor, people will forgive the quality. This applies to the first tip in that an easy theme is a “Burnett’s Theme.” It requires little effort with the exception of buying large amounts of Burnett’s vodka and making sure that there are places to flail around. It also adds nostalgia to the wedding, reminding guests of all the times that they’ve thrown up in dorm bathrooms.
Matrimony Tip 6
Give the bride and groom nicknames. With the exception of some grandparents, everyone will already know the names of the two people in front of the preacher anyway. Give them cool pseudonyms. It may be just me, but I’d be on the edge of my seat if I heard that “Robocop Senior” was to be wed to “Giant Bird.”
Matrimony Tip 7
Have other sources of entertainment wander around the ceremony. Nothing too distracting. A sad clown whose tears keep washing away his face paint or a cat that sounds like its saying “hello, partner,” are decent types of these. Pay a child to go around and ask “where is my mother?” Hire an old man to tell Vietnam stories and cough up blood. The bride might be shining and beautiful but her walk is agonizingly slow. We live in an ADHD society, and statistics show, that unless the wedding is in 3-D or a remake of a previous wedding, you’re going to need an upper-hand in the entertainment department. And what better way to get the leg up on the competition then a small girl who claims to be egg born and won’t shut up about it?
Matrimony Tip 8
Blow up the first car. I know that this sounds a little ludicrous, but before the bride and groom ride off to have sex somewhere, have them walk towards a decoy car, rigged to explode. When they’re a safe distance (close enough to singe, but too far to burn completely), flip the switch and watch the vehicle burst into flame. Then, have the groom turn back toward the crowd and say “There’s something I haven’t been too honest about.” Then have the couple get in another car, nonchalantly but with an air of morbidity. So, even if the wedding sucks, at least you saw a car blow up and got a cryptic set up for a sequel.
If you follow these 8 steps, and other, more boring steps, there’s no way that people won’t be talking about your wedding for years to come. And by years to come, I mean until the next wedding of someone who reads this article. Because nothing out does entertaining wolf vs. man fight, like stupid-awesome entertaining three shark vs. three swimming lion fight.