If you’re too dumb to figure it out, you’re too dumb to come to my wedding.
My biggest complaint about planning a wedding (besides the exorbitant amounts of money people blindly spend) are the whiners. Last time I talked about the outdoor ceremony, a friend of mine soured, “My wife is allergic to the sun.” Ummm, and that’s my fucking problem? So now I need to have an indoor ceremony because your finicky wife is allergic to the sun? Isn’t she from LA?
Here’s another one. “The wedding’s that late? What about the kids?” If the few kids in our wedding party are asleep, it ain’t my problem. Queue music!
Another complaint is what to do with kids when they’re not invited to the wedding. I don’t know, people. What do you do with your kids when they’re not supposed to be in an R-rated movie or they don’t belong in the porn shop you want to go to. You figure it out. You get a babysitter. I have no idea. I’m not a mom. But if I were, I sure as hell wouldn’t go asking my stressed out friend who’s got a busy career, a multitude of extracurricular responsibilities who’s trying to plan a memorable weekend for 100+ guests what to do with MY kids. They’re not MY kids. They’re yours. And they’re YOUR problem. You figure it out. Geez!
“Palm Springs in June! Do you know how hot that will be?” If you’re concerned, please don’t come. Please don’t bother me with your whiny voice. You’re bad karma.
I’m the one who’s wearing a poofy dress. Dean’s wearing a suit. We are spending a lot of money to ensure that you’re having a good time. If you’re going to complain, don’t come. Skip ours and go to one that’s in a good season with perfect weather that’s perfectly aligned with your life schedule where there are two babysitters for each child. Man up or shut up.