The worst things that wedding guests have actually done (and what you should do instead).
If you want to ruin a wedding, then you must have a pretty good reason for doing it. Maybe you don't approve of the union of the bride and groom, or maybe the bride or groom or someone in the wedding party has hurt you and you want to seek revenge. Or maybe you just feel like being a jerk for the sake of it -- even if you're not invited. There are a variety of reasons for wanting to ruin a wedding, and almost none of them are good, but if you really want to know how to ruin a wedding, just follow these steps and you'll be on your way in no time at all.
Engagement Photos
Will an engagement photo ruin a wedding? No. Probably not. But it is a fittingly unnatural precursor to your wedlock and, undoubtedly, the most humiliating snapshot you'll ever take part in.
The setting for these pictures can vary. We've seen a lot of cheesing in random fields-because hanging out in filthy nature is romantic and a total blast. A handful of piggy-back rides on the beach-because that's totally original, natural, and nobody else would ever think to do a beach shot. Especially if it's in black and white. Oh, and it's pretty common for people getting married in major cities to stage a grandiose kiss on the street-nothing says eternal love quite like being smashed into the Fifth Avenue pavement during rush hour.
To make matters worse, the photos will be carelessly displayed on refrigerators across your guest list for total strangers to wonder, "Who is that douchebag with the cotton sweater over his button-up?" You know who should do photo shoots? Models. You know who shouldn't? You.
Please, No Pictures
Nothing encapsulates the artificiality of a wedding quite like the hired photographers. Ugh, those guys. They're paid to ironically capture timeless moments while, simultaneously, shitting all over them. The couple stands at the front of the congregation. And, in a supposedly hallowed moment, some art school dropout with a Nikon is doing shoulder rolls in the aisle, firing off his flash bulb, and clapping that rapid fire shutter. Rather curiously, everyone seems to be cool with it.
Wedding photos were overexposed (so to speak) before the camera phone. Now, all bets are off. Between the professional photographer, Facebook, and Instagram there are now a hundred pictures of the bride awkwardly waltzing to Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" during the father-daughter dance. Weddings have turned into concerts. Instead of enjoying the experience, onlookers prefer to prove they attended.
The Playlist
There's no right way to put together a wedding playlist. But there's definitely a wrong way. And, typically, they're done the wrong way.
As a general rule, if "shuffle" is in the song title, don't play it. The "Cha Cha Slide" is another wedding staple that nobody enjoys. Besides being the dumbest dance ever, it drags on for seven agonizing minutes. By the time Mr. C the Slide Man demands "two hops, this time" the dance floor's been cleared. And sweating through your rental tux to "Shout" has become as painful a wedding formality as hand-written thank you notes.
The Rehearsal
The wedding rehearsal is easily the stupidest of all pre-ceremony preparations. All the wedding party does is, literally, walk in a straight line and stand still for an hour. It's the easiest fucking thing in the world. What is there to practice? There is nothing to practice.
Look, if someone is in your wedding party, they probably care about you. And, presumably, they've already attended six pre-wedding parties, four showers, and are holding tight to a rather incriminating secret about your bachelor weekend in Vancouver. Stop annoying your friends and maybe they'll keep quiet about you paying, actually paying, $ 20 to have a dancer squeeze a bottle of Aquafina on your face. And not from the bottle.
Six Months of YOU
Every woman goes through a pair of events that they care wayyyyy too much about. First, their 21st birthday. You need how many parties? Second, getting married.
It's a year-long celebration-crisis-celebration-drunk-cry-celebration all leading up the purportedly "happiest day of your life." (That's the patriarchy talking.) Anyone with the misfortune of being close to you has a front row seat to the whole tired act. Between the engagement party, wedding shower, handful of bachelorette parties, the bridesmaids brunch, bridal shower, and rehearsal dinner-everyone's kind of sick of your guys. Seriously.
Your girlfriends feign admiration for the sole purpose of you returning the favor when they spend half a year adoring themselves.
Wedding Planners
A high school prom requires as much coordination as a wedding. Reserving a banquet hall, decorations, feeding people, a DJ. Same stuff. Proms are organized by a handful of zit-faced teens with learner's permits and they seem to do a pretty good job. Most of the time.
Weddings, on the other hand, are managed by highly paid would-be-realtors who talk couples into getting sterling silver flatware and, somehow, find that rewarding.
You can't create a fairy tale. So, stop trying so hard. People are starting to feel uncomfortable. Surprises, flowers, and centerpieces are details that even your most spiteful, jealous ex-sorority sister won't notice. You're not being judged by your cake or your dress. You're being judged by that already-fat oaf you're marrying. Remember that.
The Toast
As the best man, you've been asked to give a toast at your brother's wedding. You've spent weeks scouring the Internet, stealing ideas, and now it's time to deliver. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. In that room of 120 people, only, say, four give a shit. Make it snappy.
There have been millions of weddings with at least a half dozen toasts at each one. Not to mention the handful of self-aggrandizing tributes shared at the thirty showers, brunches, and parties the couple has been generous enough to throw for themselves. Are any of them famous? Nope. They all bleed into one excruciating, indistinguishable diatribe that separates uninterested guests from the open bar. It forces painful, disingenuous laughter at stuff that isn't funny. Just, not funny at all. Why is everyone laughing?
So, don't try too hard. Keep it under two minutes. Don't get too creative. Remember that you're not that funny, jokes aren't your thing, and definitely don't do this.
If you want to ruin a wedding, then you must have a pretty good reason for doing it. Maybe you don't approve of the union of the bride and groom, or maybe the bride or groom or someone in the wedding party has hurt you and you want to seek revenge. Or maybe you just feel like being a jerk for the sake of it -- even if you're not invited. There are a variety of reasons for wanting to ruin a wedding, and almost none of them are good, but if you really want to know how to ruin a wedding, just follow these steps and you'll be on your way in no time at all.
Engagement Photos
Will an engagement photo ruin a wedding? No. Probably not. But it is a fittingly unnatural precursor to your wedlock and, undoubtedly, the most humiliating snapshot you'll ever take part in.
The setting for these pictures can vary. We've seen a lot of cheesing in random fields-because hanging out in filthy nature is romantic and a total blast. A handful of piggy-back rides on the beach-because that's totally original, natural, and nobody else would ever think to do a beach shot. Especially if it's in black and white. Oh, and it's pretty common for people getting married in major cities to stage a grandiose kiss on the street-nothing says eternal love quite like being smashed into the Fifth Avenue pavement during rush hour.
To make matters worse, the photos will be carelessly displayed on refrigerators across your guest list for total strangers to wonder, "Who is that douchebag with the cotton sweater over his button-up?" You know who should do photo shoots? Models. You know who shouldn't? You.
Please, No Pictures
Nothing encapsulates the artificiality of a wedding quite like the hired photographers. Ugh, those guys. They're paid to ironically capture timeless moments while, simultaneously, shitting all over them. The couple stands at the front of the congregation. And, in a supposedly hallowed moment, some art school dropout with a Nikon is doing shoulder rolls in the aisle, firing off his flash bulb, and clapping that rapid fire shutter. Rather curiously, everyone seems to be cool with it.
Wedding photos were overexposed (so to speak) before the camera phone. Now, all bets are off. Between the professional photographer, Facebook, and Instagram there are now a hundred pictures of the bride awkwardly waltzing to Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" during the father-daughter dance. Weddings have turned into concerts. Instead of enjoying the experience, onlookers prefer to prove they attended.
The Playlist
There's no right way to put together a wedding playlist. But there's definitely a wrong way. And, typically, they're done the wrong way.
As a general rule, if "shuffle" is in the song title, don't play it. The "Cha Cha Slide" is another wedding staple that nobody enjoys. Besides being the dumbest dance ever, it drags on for seven agonizing minutes. By the time Mr. C the Slide Man demands "two hops, this time" the dance floor's been cleared. And sweating through your rental tux to "Shout" has become as painful a wedding formality as hand-written thank you notes.
The Rehearsal
The wedding rehearsal is easily the stupidest of all pre-ceremony preparations. All the wedding party does is, literally, walk in a straight line and stand still for an hour. It's the easiest fucking thing in the world. What is there to practice? There is nothing to practice.
Look, if someone is in your wedding party, they probably care about you. And, presumably, they've already attended six pre-wedding parties, four showers, and are holding tight to a rather incriminating secret about your bachelor weekend in Vancouver. Stop annoying your friends and maybe they'll keep quiet about you paying, actually paying, $ 20 to have a dancer squeeze a bottle of Aquafina on your face. And not from the bottle.
Six Months of YOU
Every woman goes through a pair of events that they care wayyyyy too much about. First, their 21st birthday. You need how many parties? Second, getting married.
It's a year-long celebration-crisis-celebration-drunk-cry-celebration all leading up the purportedly "happiest day of your life." (That's the patriarchy talking.) Anyone with the misfortune of being close to you has a front row seat to the whole tired act. Between the engagement party, wedding shower, handful of bachelorette parties, the bridesmaids brunch, bridal shower, and rehearsal dinner-everyone's kind of sick of your guys. Seriously.
Your girlfriends feign admiration for the sole purpose of you returning the favor when they spend half a year adoring themselves.
Wedding Planners
A high school prom requires as much coordination as a wedding. Reserving a banquet hall, decorations, feeding people, a DJ. Same stuff. Proms are organized by a handful of zit-faced teens with learner's permits and they seem to do a pretty good job. Most of the time.
Weddings, on the other hand, are managed by highly paid would-be-realtors who talk couples into getting sterling silver flatware and, somehow, find that rewarding.
You can't create a fairy tale. So, stop trying so hard. People are starting to feel uncomfortable. Surprises, flowers, and centerpieces are details that even your most spiteful, jealous ex-sorority sister won't notice. You're not being judged by your cake or your dress. You're being judged by that already-fat oaf you're marrying. Remember that.
The Toast
As the best man, you've been asked to give a toast at your brother's wedding. You've spent weeks scouring the Internet, stealing ideas, and now it's time to deliver. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. In that room of 120 people, only, say, four give a shit. Make it snappy.
There have been millions of weddings with at least a half dozen toasts at each one. Not to mention the handful of self-aggrandizing tributes shared at the thirty showers, brunches, and parties the couple has been generous enough to throw for themselves. Are any of them famous? Nope. They all bleed into one excruciating, indistinguishable diatribe that separates uninterested guests from the open bar. It forces painful, disingenuous laughter at stuff that isn't funny. Just, not funny at all. Why is everyone laughing?
So, don't try too hard. Keep it under two minutes. Don't get too creative. Remember that you're not that funny, jokes aren't your thing, and definitely don't do this.