Sunday, August 19, 2012

I Can't Make You Wait Forever

I might have mentioned the wedding we went to here, here and here.  And some of you have been eagerly awaiting my review criticism commentary observations summary of the wedding.


I thought I'd take you on a pictorial stroll.


The Justice of the Peace is either telling everyone to STAND BACK or showing the groom
 what the gazebo could look like with just the right piece of furniture over there.  Notice k-ster is running away, probably afraid he'll be asked to move said furniture and the other groomsman thinks it's all pretty funny.



K-ster kept a very close eye on the Justice of the Peace, making sure she read every word on that tome.


The groomsmen were obviously tending to every guests' needs.  Or checking in with headquarters.


Hmm, wedding scene or campsite?



I stood in the field and showed everyone some of my cool dance moves.  This might have been the robot.  Or my I-might-be-wearing-a-hoopskirt-to-go-with-my-hat-so-I-better-keep-my-arms-out pose.


This lady and her dog totally crashed the wedding.  They spied on the whole thing.  And then walked away.  And didn't even leave a donation as a thanks for the free show.


The photographer's assistant had a most intriguing dress.  I believe it was a knit tube dress and then she added these ribbon straps to, I imagine, allow her to photograph anything at a moment's notice without exposing herself.


If I had known that costumes were allowed...



...I could have shown up in either of these.


Someone wore these even though she wasn't in the bridal party or on a catwalk.  And her dress wasn't red.


A man, yes, a man, wore these loafers with his shorts and navy blazer.  Let's pause and think about this for a moment.  No, he was not 85 years old.  Not, he wasn't wearing a pocket watch or using a fancy cane as a prop (that was the guy from above).  All I know is I wouldn't have gotten near his bare feet afterwards for a million $$.


We saw quite a variety of footwear.  And not footwear.  Lots of heels for 2.5 seconds, followed by bare feet and flip flops for the rest of the night.  There should be a law against that.  Wear the damned shoes you came in and leave it at that!!



The bride wore her new shitkickers.


And it's not really a party until there's a bridesmaid on the floor, is it?

Linking here

No comments:

Post a Comment

I love comments almost as much as I love summer. I reply to all comments except those ridiculous anonymous comments offering me dirty deeds and real estate. When you leave your comment, please make sure your own settings will allow me to reply to you. Nothing makes me sadder than replying to your comments and then realizing it's going to the no-reply@blogger address!