So, yours truly has finally decided to take the long walk after years of public speculation. Now, it is well known that I'm no stranger to the old marital ball and chain having had several shots at wedded bliss in the past - 5 to be precise (that's not counting the goat in Las Vegas). However, I have decided that the time has come to make a bit of an effort commitment-wise.
As is evidenced in some of the newspaper shots, she's no oil painting but I've got a crack team of specialists on the job as we speak and I'm confident that'll we'll have a result come the wedding day. Of course all the top fashion houses have been sniffing around to get the wedding dress gig but after a closely fought bidding war, Anita from SarisRUs in Brick Lane has won the contract with a keenly-priced proposal.
There has been a bit of a ruckus over where the ceremony is going to be held and who's going to do the business. I gave the Archbishop of Canterbury a bell to see if he was up for it but apparently he's washing his beard that day. I've finally settled on a parson of my acquaintance who'll be available on the fateful day provided he passes his parole board.
The choice of venue has also been excising the old Grope brain but I've finally hit upon a stunning solution. Terry at the Roadie and Strumpet has come up with a stonking 'all-you-can-eat- for-4.95 wedding breakfast, including complimentary Snakebite' offer that would be churlish to refuse. So that's all sorted. I just need to get the old invites out to the glitterati. I'm thinking a May wedding as nothing of importance seems to happen around then.
Not surprisingly, there has been a considerable furore over how my beloved will be addressed as the new spouse of the King of Rock. I got Quentin down at the PR company to do a bit of a straw poll in the Wang Bar and apparently 6 out of 10 drinkers capable of coherent thought, felt that it was not acceptable for her to be known as the Queen of Rock. Bowing to public pressure, it has been decided that she will be titled Doreen: Princess Consort of Rock. Naturally, she will have all the privileges associated with the Queen of Rock including a lifetime membership of the Betty Ford clinic.
4 comments:
Uh, congratulations, I guess. Six times is the charm, as they say. Or someone should have said. That breakfast reception sounds like something I'd cross the pond for. Bottomless Wheatabix?
Have you picked a china pattern?
Will there fighting afterwards?
Almost certainly - during as well
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