Tuesday, July 05, 2005

wedding party

i don't know if some of you know it, but there's this play that's been everywhere. i keep going to it. over and over again. it's really old. i've been to it about three times in the last month. sometimes famous actors are in it, but usually it's nobodies: the wedding. yep. i been to a gang of 'em lately. mainly 'cuz my girl's twisting my nuts like she's ringing out a sponge.

this last one i went to was a real hot number, let me tell you. get this: the chick was marrying some brittish dude, a "bloke" so to speak, that gave the ceremony an extra "gay" tint to it. some of you ask, what do you mean by "extra" gay? see, i don't know why they outlaw gay marriage because weddings are gay in general. especially the heterosexual marriage. that's why gay men LOVE them. but this was extra gay.

first ist was at a "catholic" retreat: (hmmm. priests...gay?) and we drove up this windy road thru Malibu...(hmmm...malibu? used to be surfer, now is gay, lot's of hot oil and cold stone therapy stuff....gay?)

when we get there, my girl is blabbing like four joan-rivers's at a red carpet factory. then i pointed to a sign: PLEASE BE QUIET, MEDITATION GARDENS. (meditation gardens...gay?). nothing's better than telling my girl to shut it.

so we're sitting there in the church, which doesn't have one pew. and then this musical fanfare blasts over the speakers. it was like that song by beethoven, or bach or whatever those gay guys's names were back then, you know that bah-bah-bah- anyways, i can't hum it to you because sound doesn't translate well to text, and i can't tell you the name because i'm an uncultured american, but whatever. it was like a herd of big dough-breasted rotund women singing real loud and then the "groom" strides in: he had a top hat and a cane, with like a white tip at the end of it. i thought it was that dude from "community chest." (music for the guy?...gay.)

i got mega-props from my girl because right when we sat down to eat, this jazz band was playing like old standards (jazz standards? gay.) this is how it went down:

me: come on baby dance with me (i can't dance).

my girl: really?

me: be my lover woman and just dance damn you.

mg: ok...wait, i don't think the bride and groom have danced yet.

me: (i already knew this, patting myself on the back silently) who cares. this is romance.

mg: that's so sweet, but i don't want to be disrespectful.

me: we just gotta go with it.

mg: i'm not sure...

me: alright. you blew it. the moment is gone. you're like julia roberts in my best friends wedding. she wouldn't karaoke and look what happened.

see i got all the points for being romantic and didn't have to dance. actually, later we did dance, i saw some 80 year old woman take a fall on the steps. she was real drunk. she icked her shoes off.

i almost got sick watching some old lady eat cous-cous (sp?). cous-cous is realy gay by the way. cous-cous is like chopped up rice and this old woman was digging into it like there was gold in there. she was all bent and knuckled up. she looked like an arangutan. i yelled, "right turn clyde" but she didn't hear me. so she's like spooning mounds of cous-cous into her grill. she had lips-stick all zig-zagged around her chops. her wig was falling to one side and her liver spots were on point. i actually saw a liver spot move, no lie. just slid up her arm and ate one of her moles. her lips were loose and stretched out. and her teeth slid around her mouth like cruisde ships. and the cous-cous was rolling around the mix. it was horrible. i was hypnotized. it was like watching inner organs. right when the old lady saw me staring at her, she smiled, then someone put a plate of cold salmon in front of my face. i wanted to go to the mediation gardens sooooooo bad. just get some air.

anyways, i came to a conclusion: everything, i mean everything we do is gay in some way. weight lifting. asnwering phones. buttering toast. it's all gay. everything.

i don't spellcheck.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

YOU GOT SOME SERIOUS ISSUES!

12:39 PM

 

Post a Comment

<< Home