Okay, paprika... this is the story. It's really long, so it gets its own post. i'm sorry for the length.. but it's pretty hilarious. And I promise you that nothing is exaggerated.
Shortly after Gzilla and I got together, he was the best man in his best friends wedding. The wedding was about 4 hours away in North Jabip, PA. We had to go so far north in PA that it was easier to go into New York than it was to stay in PA.
We (Gzilla, myself, another groomsmen P and his girlfriend--now wife--K) got there just in time for the rehearsal. Grooms brother is no where to be found. K and I are sitting in the back of the church while the bridal party is talking to Father Michael From India. That's how it introduced himself, so now we use that as his full name, as though 'Fom India" is his last name. This was Father Michael From India's first American and I'm pretty sure first Catholic wedding.
Groom--not Catholic. Not even a little Catholic. Refused to kneel, instead said that he was more comfortable standing the entire time. Father Michael From India thought that he had a knee injury that prevented him from kneeling. The Pastor overhears this... comes running from the back screaming at the groom:
Priest: You're going to kneel... it's disrespectful. You're going to kneel and you're going to like it
Groom: No, I'm not.
Priest: Then you're not allowed to get married
Groom: Since I did my pre Cana with a bishop... yes I am getting married, and no I won't be kneeling. I'm not going to kneel before you, your God, or any other god.
Priest: THEN YOU'RE GOING TO HELL. YOU'RE ALL GOING TO HELL. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU IS GOING TO HELL.
This was the REHEARSAL. It only got better from there.
At the ceremony, Frank--the husband of the MOH--had a toolbelt of cameras. And that's exactly what it sounds like. Tool belt... camera phone, digital camera, disposable cameras, a regular camera, and a video camera. While the bride was walking down the aisle... Frank thought it would be a good idea to stand IN FRONT OF THE GROOM so that he could get the bride coming down the aisle.
At the reception, I drew the short straw and had to sit next to Frank. Frank always brought three drinks back from the bar--all for himself. And when they served us dinner (herb roasted chicken, roasted potato, and some vegetable), Frank picks up the chicken... and just bites into it. Then he looks at me, completely appalled and I'm sure that I had a WTF face on, and he says "Whenever I see chicken... I just gotta eat it with my hands. I don't know how to do it any other way."
Paprika: I like it when you burp in my ear. It really turns me on.Baby Beach, Aruba, 2011
Posy Palette Blog