Groomzilla.

So I’m getting married in the nearish future. And I’m trying to be, like, really cool about it. I’m just going with the flow and not worrying too much about things like what color the napkins will be or what kind of cufflinks the groomsmen will wear. Neither I, nor my bride-to-be, really go in for the bridezilla approach. Besides, it’s HER special day, so I’m trying to be casual.  That being said, I don’t want people showing up in flip-flops or jean jackets. My tastes are simple, but there are a few, SMALL, things that I want (or don’t want) to be part of my wedding.  

Increasingly grandiose and drunken speeches: It seems like a lot of weddings these days just have one of the fathers stand up and make a brief speech about how he “remembers the first day of kindergarten” and “how grown up you are now.”  I don’t know what happened to the lost art of making good toasts, but at my wedding I would like a series of increasingly drunken toast that highlight my excellence as a man, friend, and lover.

Lots of amazing artsy photos: none of which I am in, as I am deathly afraid of cameras.

People with shoes on: Weddings are formal events, but four minutes after the ceremony (when everyone is seated anyway) people are stripping out of their clothes and pulling out their fast-flats from CVS.  I get it, dress shoes and high heals can be uncomfortable– but people buy these expensive shoes, take the times to get dressed up, and then can’t get through someone else’s once-in-a-lifetime moment.  I mean, isn’t part of the wedding experience coming home, kicking off those pumps, and complaining about how much your feet hurt after all the dancing?

Not putting my face in my bride’s crotch: Probably the weirdest tradition in a wedding is when the groom sticks his head up the woman’s dress and removes the garter with his teeth while the groomsmen catcall and the entire extended family, including great-aunt Gladys, watch with pleasant smiles on their faces.

Snazzy groomsmen: It’s not just the ladies who should put some thought into their appearance.  In the wise words of ZZ Top, “Every Girl’s Crazy ’bout a sharp dressed man.”

Not to be called a “groom:” It’s a weird word and it makes me think of “broom.”  Please don’t call me a broom on my wedding day.

An open bar: No need to explain this one.

Smearing cake in my face: it’s been done.  It‘s not funny.  Move on.

No Slideshows: No one wants to see a photo of me as a three year old with spaghetti all over my face.

A bomb-ass band: So everyone can shake it.

At least one bathroom hookup: because wedding are really about meeting men in tuxes or hot bridesmaids for clandestine rendezvous in the handicapped bathroom stall.

An unbeatable honeymoon: Because, frankly, that’s a bigger deal for me.

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