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Posts Tagged ‘wedding’

Weddings.

These are quite the lovely decorations, wouldn't you say?

First of: I kinda like weddings, just not when I’m the one paying for it. Yes, call me whatever you may, at least I admit it. If not for the ludicrous amount of money spent, I’d marry in a more religious way just fine. What? Come on, good food, good beverages, music (live, most of the time), desperate people who go to weddings just to get a chance at someone and, consequentially, are the source of plenty, funny storied later on. What could you possibly dislike in here? Unless, of course, you’re not the religious type, which could explain a lot of things. Oh well. Not that you can’t have that big of a party and marry just formally anyway, so it’s pretty much a win-win situation. Aside the cost, but I said that already.

But I’m writing about them, mostly, because I have one to attend today. And I intend to skip it in order to get some work done and catch the movies with a few friends. Sounds awful, right, but I was invited purely out of courtesy and good-manners, so I don’t see why I can’t skip it. Though, I don’t think I’ll be losing a lot. Free food and drinks, a really nice party and all that, yeah. Right. Parties.

I’m not much of a party-man myself. In fact, I skipped –yet– another one today.

Now, what I expect to be on this wedding, aside all of the aforementioned: Single women and men in my “age-range” (so to speak) drinking like crazy, laughing and trying to find someone well-endowed (in any sense of the word) and hitting on everyone they can, couples laughing and enjoying themselves while, most possibly, speaking ill about most people (or the party, as usualand, while most people do so on a regular basis regardless of the environment or time, I mean that they’ll almost exclusively do this throughout the course of said wedding. Also the usual cake eating and bouquet throwing scene.

All of that traded off for an animation featuring animals in Rio and, possibly, some pizza later on.

Though I must admit, must be fun to catch it.

As attractive as weddings sounds to most, I’d definitely spend my time on that event sitting on some chair, wondering about the numerous and obviously petty things I do all the time, like how long it took for them to organize things, what kind of experience the cooks have, if I’d be able to grab the bouquet from the hands of a desperate young lady and flee the crime scene like the mind-caged madman that I am. You know, the usual.

Until, of course, someone (most likely the couple or their parents) asks me to stop sitting in my place, smiling, get up and dance like there’s no tomorrow! Yeah, right. Dancing.

Or, in my language, “jumping really high and/or waving your arms in a silly way while moving through the dance floor”. It’s not that I don’t like to dance, I do, really! Just actual dancing, not this modern debauchery (in my oh-so-humble opinion) they call “dancing”. And if I ever engaged in such behavior, in my defense, it was purely because I was surrounded by friends and was having a laugh at it! One of the other reasons I skipped today’s party, by the way, was because it involves a lot of “dancing around”.

Lovely handcuffs---

Not to say I wouldn’t give off the best possible wedding ever if my future partner so desires. It is a special day, after all. Even though most women use it to envy upon their so-called friend, and even though it’s not always the wife who shines the most during a wedding, it still holds some strong meanings to most. Plus, you get to show off how much you can actually spend just to throw a big party (if you care about this).

For me, Saturday won’t be that special of a day. In fact, it’ll probably be just as regular as any other day. But to some brides, it’ll be a day to remember.

Until, of course, divorce happens, since its rates are going up by the month.

(I own none of the images above)

Going to bed and straight out to a busy, busy Saturday,

Arthur Müller.

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Too early, William. Too early.

Ah, the Royal Wedding! Everyone talked about it, it was the event of the week, and we thought it was the most marvelous wedding ever done (although I barely saw it). Most of British citizens (and then lots of people around the world) eagerly anticipated it (granted, not me, but who cares about it?), and with good reason. There hasn’t been a wedding of this magnitude in some time, add to that the fact that it’s a royal event… Hell, someone even tattooed the couple on his teeth:

Such a royal smile!

… Well, I wasn’t awaiting for that wedding, and I sure didn’t woke up at 5 am (here in Rio) to catch the live transmission. If anything, I saw the kissing scene right before leaving to college, and I was a tad sad due to the fact that the planes (?) flying over them. Oh well, at least they did got married and nothing much happened.

Just a lot of mugs and robberies near the Westminster Abbey, but really, who cares? There was a wedding happening, they had to secure the maids of honor! Seriously now, I wish them all the happiness. But I didn’t cared at all about their wedding, specifically saying.

Although I do care enough about the whole event to speak about it, as you could see.

And they lived happily ever after...

And then something else happened, and almost overshadowed all the nice bouquets and decorations at the Abbey: John Paul II’s beatification.

Peek-a-boo!

Since his death, in 2005, the faithful catholics broke the respectful silence (after some time, obviously) with all the voices asking for a sanctification (“Santo Subito”), it was about time he became a saint, at least according to “Catholic rules” (per se), which basically means he was a modern-time hero and performed two confirmed miracles. More than one million and a half applauded for about eight minutes, and then had to be silenced so the ceremony could carry on. He’s expected to become a saint anytime now, since his process was “rushed”. Some say it was because of the Catholic Church losing followers after the Pope’s death, but those are just theories. Logical, but just theories.

The White House: Donald Trump way.

Now, we all know (or should, at least) how Donald Trump, highly probable candidate for the 2012 north-american president elections, started to poke into a quite relevant issue: Obama’s birth certificate. You see, turns out that if you’re not born in the USA, you can’t be president. Who knew!? Apparently, Trump did, and it took quite some time for Obama to get his certificate. When he did find it, he even joked about Trump getting into the elections. And, of course, all Donald could do was sit there and “laugh”. But boy, was it priceless.

Still, that didn’t took that much of the spotlights from Obama, who had his popularity going down bit by bit.

Until Osama came back from the living. Just to die. What a bummer, eh?

No Osama, not first! Third, second place!

To top our most sensational week, he died. After a ludicrous excuse so Bush could sent a huge army there, fifteen (if I recall correctly) attempts and lots of money spent over almost ten years, Osama was shot in his mansion near Islamabad, at Abbottabad. There was a lot of explosions, shots, fire and most of us heard about it while on Twitter (due, in big part, to this fellow here who also tweeted about the helicopter crash). Quite convenient that it happened just now, without, you know, photos, just the standard procedure. Not to mention the body was thrown in the sea because they had “no viable time to find a place suitable to bury his body”.

Really?

Damn it!

Honestly speaking though, isn’t it grand, when you kill the world’s most wanted terrorist –even if his group, Al Qaeda, said there would be retaliation against his death in the form of bombs and what-a-not-, why not tell the whole world about it??

Not like they’ll choose a new leader right off the bat and start to plan their counter-attacks just because you finished their top player’s killing streak, right?

Right?

"You're forgiven please be our president again PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!"

Al-Qaeda apparently already named a successor for Osama, and he’s set on a revenge against the death of our new media focus, the dead-bearded-guy-who-liked-to-kill-capitalist-pigs. His name is Ayman al-Zawahri, and as an Egyptian medic, his strike will probably be rather surgical.

Good thing us, Brazilians, have nothing to worry about, right? Aside from the theory that USA is already focusing on us, by leaving some navy ships in and out of a position that overviews our coast, and the already-known north-american military bases across the amazonian forest.

… I wonder if it’s hard to learn Chinese and adapt to their culture.

(I own none of the pictures/links above)

Signing off knowing a game about Osama’s hunt and death will be done,

Arthur Müller.

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