HAIRSHIRT
Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery
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HAIRSHIRT Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery |
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Saturday, April 09, 2005Toasty
Greetings from the U.K.!
I flew over on the Red Eye Thursday night because an old friend of mine was getting married and--out of the blue, as I hadn't seen him in a long time--he'd asked me to be the best man. I was honored. I'd never met the bride before, although they've been together for a long, long time. She seems nice. Bit stiff, but whatever. Had a very informal sort of bachelor party Friday night. I hadn't had a lot of time to arrange anything, so my buddy and I just sort of hit a few strip clubs in Soho. I bought him a hummer. I was really proud of my best man speech at the reception. I thought I'd reprint it here to kind of widen the audience. Here you go: Charles. What the hell can I say about this guy? I guess nothing that the tabloids haven't already said in four inch headlines, huh? No, I tell you, I just met Camilla last night, so I have nothing but nice things to say about her. She's kind and giving and doesn't mind marrying a guy who looks like Dumbo's little brother. But actually, I look forward to getting to know Camilla over the next few years, until she finally decides to dump this guy and find herself a real man. Camilla, I added my cell number to your speed dial, so when you're ready, give me a call. I kid. I kid. Because I've known this guy, what, thirty-some years, now? I remember the days when Chuck was a handsome young officer in her majesty's service. Who knew looks could go down hill so fast, huh? But no, really, I was there the first time Chuck got married. I remember, before the ceremony, Chuck pulled me aside and he said, he said, "Joe, I'm in love. I'm so completely head-over-heels in love. I have the perfect woman. Too bad I gotta marry this Diana chick." No, stop. I'm just "taking the piss" as you pasty buggers like to say. Why, without Diana, Chuck wouldn't have these two wonderful young men sitting beside him. Okay, well, one wonderful young man and one swastika-sportin' dipshit. I joke with Harry. 'Cause I love him. Actually, I bought the kid his first joint, so we're tight. But now, Charles and Camilla are finally together. As they were always meant to be. And I know that they're going to be happy. And I know that I join the entire nation of...where are we again? I'm kidding! I know that I join the British people, and people from all over the world in wishing these two the best of luck. 'Cause with the look on the Queen's face tonight, they're sure as hell gonna need it! I kid! I joke with her royal highness. I joke because ol' Liz and I go way back. How well do I know the Queen? Let's just say I know how well she wields a royal scepter. Anyway, please join me in a toast: To Chucky and Camilla. May the new marriage work out better than the old ones. Not that that'll be difficult. Cheers! I thought that, while I was over here, I might take in a show in the West End. I'm going to be one of the lucky bastards who gets to see Chitty Chitty Bang Bang before it debuts on Broadway. Cheerio!
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