Thursday, May 28, 2009
I'm sitting around the other day thinking, "I'm getting married soon, I have no idea what's going on, She-Money keeps dropping all of these monster bills my way, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing." Whenever I see fit, I'm going to do a post about some horrible aspect of the wedding planning process. If you guys take one piece of advice from me, let it be this:
There is nothing wrong with getting married. There is everything wrong with planning a wedding. Everything about it sucks and it is ripe to be blogged/bitched about. I've already ranted and raved about flowers, the DJ, groomsmen gifts, real estate, and who could forget my epic Bed Bath and Beyond tirade. It's been awhile but the feature is back...today I delve into the dicey realm of Spiritual Ethics.
OK. So She$ and I are getting ready to meet with the pastor who is performing our ceremony. Apparently, all couples have to do this (unless you elope...which you should...you should really elope). It's one of those situations that she tells me this and I brush it off with a "whatever, just tell me when and where to be and if I have to put on pants". But it's not that simple, you see. In fact, the meeting with your holy man might be the most scary part of the entire marriage process. Maybe I'm overreacting to this though.
She$ informs me that we have to fill out this packet of stuff for the pastor. Why? I don't really know. It's one of those things that makes no sense at all but since everyone does it, so do you. I guess it's like tipping a bartender more than spare change for getting you a bottle of Bud Light. He/she didn't really do anything but they want a 50-75% tip? But what happens...you oblige them like the pussies that you are. Anyway, this survey type thing starts off with all the normal shit that you would expect: your definition of marriage, what do you expect from your spouse, blah, blah, blah. Ironically, this was a really tough section for me because I have no idea what to expect and I just assume that my life will be exactly the same now except my bed space will be cut in half, someone will always do my laundry and cook my food, and I will never have to clean anything ever again. Who says that chivalry is dead?
But then this book of questions sort of goes off the deep end into a dimension that is both inappropriate and somewhat erotic. First comes two pages of questions about sex. And not just general shit, it feels like this book wants details. My favorite question was, "what sexual activities become off limits after marriage"? Hilarious. You all can finish that joke in your own deranged way. Keep in mind, these answers that we give are for a man of the cloth. Then there is a full page about the AIDS virus! AIDS! Seriously. In a marriage guidebook. But that's not all. Oh no, no survey would be complete without two pages of questions wondering if you or your spouse has a drug or alcohol problem! One of the questions asked if I ever felt the need for an "eye opener"! Priceless. And finally, this book wanted me to write down all of my financial information in some sort of weirdo budget thing which I did not do. These answers may be for God's eyes only...but I don't trust anybody with my limited bankroll.
So here is the problem: it's not cool to lie to a priest/pastor. We can all agree on this. But at the same time, if he asks me some of the shit that was in this book, he sure as shit isn't getting the truth. No one needs to know about my ample collection of Bridget the Midget tapes or my fantasy of getting railroaded by Darth Vader or the fact that whenever Gone In 60 Seconds is on TNT, I watch it. That shit is embarrassing. I barely want to admit this stuff to myself let alone other people. So how do I go about this? We are talking about the thinnest of fine lines to walk here.
I am thinking of being very brief with my answers. Yes's and no's and that's it. Kind of like what lawyers tell stupid people to do. Don't incriminate yourself. If he asks about donkey shows, for Christ sake, just say that you don't know what he's talking about. Anyone else got a suggestion here? Maybe I'm overthinking this and it's really not that bad. Where all my married fucks at?
One thing that I know is for sure...this pastor is going to hate me. Unless the priest just so happens to be Judas Priest. That would be cool. But I would probably get raped by Rob Halford. I'm your turbo lover, bitch.