re: Anyone Ever Been To A Wedding That Was A Complete Disaster?

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I've been to weddings where I knew the marriage would be a complete disaster.

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Funny, I don't remember you being at my wedding....

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First time I ever cried at a wedding

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So you got your arse whipped by the bride ?

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So...your dad loaned a dude money to get his own daughter a tit job?

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Well, he cosigned on the loan and then the dude defaulted.

ETA: and if I remember correctly, I think he told them the loan was for an engagement ring. Honestly, my parents tried to do the right thing by adopting her and helping her. My dad tries to see the good in everything and he flat won't listen when my non-stripping sister and I try to tell him he's getting played. Tells us we're "jealous."

Everyone told groom that the bride was a disaster, don't do it. He went ahead anyway.

Wedding was outside in south Louisiana in summer at dusk. Mosquitoes
EVERYWHERE, including on the bride and groom's faces during the "I do" part.

At the reception, bride's 7 year old was out of control, running around, insulting guests, hollering . Marriage lasted 6 months.

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a giant arse taxidermied deer head all the way across the top of her back that says "In Memory of..." an aunt of ours (who, btw, absolutely hated taxidermied deer heads, which is a whole other story)

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While she was working the weekend day shift and evening week shift at Sammy's on Gregory Street in Pensacola she came into contact with a tattoo "artist."

She referred to him once as her "client," which more-or-less confirmed to me what I figured she was really doing down there... That's when she started getting tattoos out the wazoo. She looks like the 17th Avenue train trestle, now, which is fitting, since it's down the street from Sammy's (see image below). So, suffice to say we can probably add "whore" to the list of her occupations.



I live five hours away and my sister lives in Atlanta, so we don't get to see her that often, thank God. For a while there, every time we did, though, there was some new, hideous, completely retarded tattoo on her somewhere.

***Back Story Break*** I mentioned before the "ancestral homeplace" of sorts in the Alabama black belt. Our family are the only non-Indians to have ever owned it, as my gggggrandfater bought it from the federal government in 1814, or thereabout. My great grandfather hired a sawmill in 1899 to saw lumber from the trees on the place and built the first room in the house that year. Within a few years, he built another huge room and the house was a dog trot (see image for representative of the style).



The kitchen was a another separate structure, too. Over the years, the sleeping porches and walkways between the rooms were closed in and the place is now a pretty substantial house. We used to have 50 people in there at times for Christmas and Thanksgiving (that grandmother was the youngest of 10). What used to be the "dog trot" became the foyer. Now that part of Alabama is excellent for hunting and over the years, family members have harvested quite a few nice-sized deer. My grandmother's brother had two of the bucks mounted and hung in the foyer. They've been hanging there for 50 years or so.

The house actually belonged to my grandmother's older sister, but she never married and ended up living with my grandparents for forty years. She was kind of like another grandmother to us and when she died, my mother and uncle inherited the house. My aunt hated the taxidermied heads and the only reason she left them on the wall was because every Christmas my middle sister and I would put hunting caps on the their heads, hang candy canes from their antlers, and roll up mock cigarettes to put dangling out of their mouths, and then I called them "Randy" and "Ricky," because every redneck seems to be named that, or something similar. It was great fun for all involved, or at least it was funny to me. ***End of Back Story Break***

So, Christmas about eight years ago, or so, right after she had divorced the guy who jacked off everywhere and all over everything and filmed it all, and after my sis was found buried under a chunk of bituminous, as well as three months after the aunt who owned the house died, she showed up at the house for the holidays, Smart Forrest Gump - son of the jacker - in tow (as well as one of the Marines who had been friends with the first husband during their training in Pensacola, the ones who passed out at the table during the reception - sis absolutely will not go too long without dick), with a long-sleeved shirt on. Later that night, everyone readied for bed and she put on a skimpy sleeping shirt. My other sister and I happened to be in the foyer when she walked out of the bathroom and noticed this monstrous tattoo across her entire upper back.

We asked her what the hell that was and she lifted up the back of the shirt. What we saw still kills me to this day: a massive tattoo of a taxidermied deer head, the spitting image of the ones we were then standing under, sans the cap, candy, and cigs, with the words "In Loving Memory of ABC" (ABC added here in place of the nickname our family had for said aunt who used to own the house).

The new guy was standing there too and the thought occurred to me that when he was hitting her from behind all he could see was this "memorial" to our old maid aunt, who hated the taxidermy, tattoos, and had a low opinion of the sister, too. I pointed this out to my biological sister and we started laughing so hard that we were soon on the floor, crying profusely, our stomachs cramping in pain from howling laughing. My dad tried to ask us what was so damn funny and we could barely talk but kept point at the deer heads and back at her tattoo. He told us we were assholes and wouldn't talk to us for a day or two.

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Trying to find a good way to say this, but apparently dad thought her cans were inappropriate for her job as a stripper?

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No, I meant helping her out by adopting her, which took place when she was 7. Her tits were kind of flat, though, once she grew up.

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Let me assure you nothing sets the tone for a wedding reception quite like chefs tearing the meat off a whole hog in the middle of a wedding reception.

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I really hope someone made shrieking squeal sounds while they did that.

Was at a wedding where the performing band ended up having a couple of guys upstairs with one of the bridesmaids. Big arse coonass of a dad heard about it and walked in on them, and proceeded to have his arse beat by 4 naked men.

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Top things off after we get the food debacle settled (now 4 hours from start of wedding) is when it got real fun. The A/C to the venue freezes over and burns up the motor. Now I have about 100 people left, all good friends and family, already pissed about the previous hiccups, and its June with no fricking A/C.

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We were taking pictures before my wedding. My dad was my best man and it was time for him to be in pictures, but he was nowhere to be found. After waiting a while - it was starting to get close to showtime - I announced that I was going to the back of the church to find him and my brother-in-law, also a groomsman.

My mother says sternly, "No, you can't go back there." Of course, I wanted to know why and after a little bit of back and forth they told me. Turns out, the church was on fire and he and my BIL were helping to put it out.

Dude, you do mush writing. I would buy any book you wrote. I have tears from laughing so hard..... :cheers: