The obligatory wedding post

The wedding was not as traumatic as I thought it might be. It was, as anticipated, an excellent excuse to start drinking at 9:00am and consume vast quantities of barbecued goodness, all in the name of patriotism. Most of our viewing involved bitching about the outfits of some of the guests, and having a bit of a perve on some of the others, which, to be fair, is what we do most of the time anyway. I even got excited enough to have to run downstairs from the bathroom to see the Queen arrive (looking resplendently like an ageing sherbet lemon), and to purchase a commemorative novelty condom, emblazoned with the toothy faces of our royal couple. This will remain on display forever, not because I treasure it, but because I will never use such an example of a product in which effectiveness should definitely be more worthy of consideration than novelty.