My colleague BigSnake is getting hitched. Yes, to his long time girlfriend whom he had bitched to me eons ago. Apparently, the 6 months probation he gave to his lovelife worked well for both of them, good enough to blossom to the next level - marriage. Well, I’m glad that it turned out well for him, or whatever.

However, it wasn’t as fun as he anticipated it to be, for he had been ranting a lot inside the lab lately. Most of the time, it was about the money and the ridiculous amount of time he had to invest to make the whole thing work. The plans, the printing of invitation cards, the wedding banquets, dowries (not sure if that’s the right word but, apparently, the bride’s family requested for dowries, in both monetary form and gifts), et al. I could tell that he was going through the most difficult episode of his life… in what appears (to me) to be a gambling bid to secure a better future. But I didn’t hold back my opinions…

“Dude, why all the troubles? This is your wedding, not a ball sucking effort to impress people. If anyone were to have opinions about who you choose to spend your life with, they can fucking go kill themselves for all you care. You could have used the money to go for a really awesome honeymoon, and save yourself from all these unnecessary troubles…”

I know a lot of you people might not agree with me, but what the heck, just listen to what I have to say…

You see, the idea of having wedding banquets/receptions originated back in the ancient times when there were no systematic ways to acknowledge the social status of a particular couple in love… and when an affair eventually gets out of control, the female counterpart would eventually gets knocked up. And when that happens, fellow villagers tend to get panic over the matter and start to grab pitchforks and whatnots to head to your home (children born out of wedlock used to be a big thing back then). That was when you’d find yourself having a hard time to convince everyone that you’re not raping a village girl, but was having a steamy round of sex with your fucking girlfriend.

That’s probably how people come up with this ‘bribing’ format, to insure the reputation of the family name - ostentatiously organize a generous dinner for the villagers and have the mayor (or any bigshot) to bless the relationship… and from thence, to be recognized as a legit couple. So that
a) people know you’re fucking with each other
b) people know that both of you are not suppose to fuck anyone else (back in those days, you know),
c) people know that they’re not suppose to mis-fuck any one of you.
d) so on…

In the modern world, such practice is not necessary anymore - since we already have a functional set of systems to govern our rights and shit. We can just pen down our names in the registry and that’s about it. Wedding banquets/receptions nowadays are nothing more than a cultural rote, probably also an excuse for
- the groom’s friend to have bachelor’s night,
- relatives and friends to get together
- old abominable uncles/aunties to get drunk and croak like a toad in front of cheapskate karaoke screen…

An event of 2 people together is suppose to be a happy thing. If the wedding plan (banquet, reception, basically.. the whole package) is causing one so much distress and trouble, what’s the point, really?

That’s why I chose the option of not to hold one and spent our hard earned money holidaying at Hong Kong instead (and the remaining to buy an apartment). Lucky me indeed, for having such an understanding in-laws and wife.

But for my colleague BigSnake and many thousands of victims of circumstances, I can only hope the best for you. My advice is, if you can’t get away with it, then you can at least try to mitigate it. Just cut out all the unnecessary crap, it’s time for you to take charge of your own life. Only invite people you know or close to you, save yourself lots of money and use it to buy an apartment or something.

Remember, a brand new apartment can stay in your life for a very long time, but not your wedding guests.

Imagine this, you’re ambling around at a shopping mall after a good lunch. You’re in your smart gear - branded long sleeves. Designer slacks. A pair of croc classics, and that thick air of confidence that smelled Ralph Lauren. You’re acting like everyone’s admiring your charm and you smiled even at ashtrays… when suddenly, a fat Malay chick from a nearby makeshift stall bounces to your front blocking your way… holding a contraband traditional herb cream… and says:

“Bang! Bagi kempis perut, murah je…”
[for those of you who don't read malay: "Mister! This cream can flatten your tummy, for a very cheap price..."]

Sounds like some scene extracted from a horror movie, but I’ve seen it happened to a guy once at a mall. Guy’s expression was like being squeezed hard on the balls. Probably there hasn’t been anyone that honest to him before, like… should he appreciate that or should he just fucking mope in dejection for the bitter realization about his own physique? Whatever man, but he got his shit ruined that day out of no reason at all.

And that kinda gave me an idea about this; a good source of unbiased third party opinion can always be good fun in this world full of lies and deception, you know? Something you can use to give delusional people a slap on the back of the head. Like this bitch here.

In this case, one can actually bring her out to lunch and suck it up to her by telling her how great looking she is. And then, once she gets into the cloud nine state, you crash a brick wall down onto her by bringing her into the radar of a slimming product promoter (can be traditional herb cream or those ass cinching undergarments… doesn’t matter). A big target like her will be an easy lock for the promoter, and she’ll be approached by the promoter to downsize her lardy ass. When that happens, slip out a stifled laugh or two in front of her - that’ll burn a hole deep into her self esteem and at the same time, do her a favor by waking her up - that she’s fucking fat and she needs a few tubs of those cream to rub it off.

How cool is that?

It’ll make a good farewell gift for any fat chick that’s leaving the company. Subtle yet, effective in conveying the message. I’m so gonna fucking to that to someone someday.

(btw, what do you guys think of my new banner?)