ain't love grand?

last weekend i attended the wedding of a close friend's mother to her partner of many years.

the couple were generous enough to invite to the nuptials not just their own friends, but the friends of their children as well.

it was a truly wonderful wedding, held at the couple's holiday home in the central coast of new south wales, right on the glistening water.

and what's more, it was themed.

that's right bitches, this saturday past 200 or so well-wishers gussied up in their finest bollywood-style outfits (bright colours and shiny trinkets) and rocked out in woy woy bay like it was nineteen ninety fuckin' nine.

here are some notable things that happened at this most fucking awesome of weddings:

- i got very drunk;

- everybody else got very drunk;

- i flirted with reckless unabandon;

- i rambled at a poor, unassuming male friend of mine about how horny grief can make a person;

- i got hit on by a MIDDLE-AGED MARRIED MAN;

- i (think i) called jessculture at some ridiculous hour about really deep stuff;

- i booty-danced my way into the professional bollywood dancers' good graces;

- i took part in the BEST IMPROMPTU PHOTO SHOOT OF ALL TIME:

































- i cried a lot;

- i laughed a lot;

- i ate a lot;

- i wound up the night in a fancy hotel suite with my closest friends, watching three hot chicks wrestling and wishing i never had to go home.

i officially induct this wedding into the 'nadstown weddings hall of fame', where it rests happily alongside the nuptials of miss fleur and mr. bin bodman (photos here).

okay, i'm off to pick up miss gabi from the airport now. i will hug her and kiss her and fondle her until it gets awkward.

jealous?

you should be.