Roll with it
Without running the risk of sounding self adoring or vain, I must admit that I couldn`t wait to have all those eyes on me as I walked down the aisle, with my exquisite silk dress billowing out behind me, my hair cascading down my back, and of course my six metre train of embroidered, hand painted silk. The reality of the day was all I had dreamed of. That is, of course, if you block out the fact that my dad tried to upstage me with his own version of the traditional wedding train: A substantial length of Kitten Soft Toilet Roll hanging from his rear! Very Becoming, I must say...
Nuala, Co. Cork

Hold your peace!
You know the part of the wedding ceremony when the priest calls on any objectors to come forward? I never really imagined that anything like that would ever really happen. So imagine my horror when a complete unknown stood up and literally bellowed: `I do, she`s married to me!` It took me over an hour to get the priest to continue with the ceremony and convince him that I`d never laid eyes on the stranger, it took even longer to convince my mother-in-law who already hated my guts as it was. Apparently an ex had hired the man as a practical joke. Two years on and I`m still trying to see the funny side.
Kate, Co Kerry

Bible Bashing
Even the mere mention of the Stag Night can bring on a veritable cacophony of alarm bells ringing in our heads. As best man it was up to me to ensure that this stag party lived up to all expectations. The obvious choice was AMSTERDAM, purely for its rich and diverse culture you understand... By early evening we were all the worse for wear, particularly our groom who took a fancy to a 6ft 6 Transvestite, affectionately known as Bermuda - as in the man-eating hole variety. We all thought it was hilarious at first as Mark got extremely close to him/her on the dance-floor. His sudden disappearance 20 minutes later, however, soon marked a dramatic change in our attitude - Mark had been convinced that Bermuda was female. After a frantic few minutes scouring the dingy discotheque, aptly named "Hole" we headed for our hotel; and there we found him: bawling like a baby and naked apart from a copy of the first Testament, which was strapped to his chest. The remainder of that night he cried out, for the all the world and his dog to hear that he was not gay. For his new wife`s sake, I hope not...
Martin, Clondalkin, Dublin

Close Relations
I knew exactly what to expect from the girls on my hen night: drink; unsightly costumes, more drink and of course THE STRIPPER. Of course I was perfectly accurate. After wriggling into outfits, which bore a striking resemblance to those of Pat Butcher, thanks to the wigs and Makeup, we all became alarmingly drunk in a very short space of time. The stripper was interesting to say the least: 50ish with a middle age spread and a bald patch. dressed as Spiderman, he surprised us with a surprisingly energetic routine, spurred on, no doubt by our enthusiastic slapping on his bare behind. As the Hen it wasn`t long before I had him down to a microscopic piece of cloth, unfortunately we didn`t have any luck removing that, but he did remove his mask. I don`t think I`ll ever be able to look my father in the eye again...
Anon

Four Poster Bed
I had the wedding night all planned out: sexy lingerie, soft candlelight, a few glasses of champagne (a few bottles would probably be more accurate!) After Tom left to get more champagne, I decided to freshen up a little in our adjoining ensuite bathroom. Somehow I managed to open the wrong door and ended up in the hallway, much to the delight of a few male guests - my lingerie was very sexy you see. Anyway in my haste to return to my bedroom, I half stumbled, half walked through the doorway and over to the four poster bed, where I proceeded to haul myself, lingerie discarded, into the strong arms of my husband. Only I didn`t quite find his embrace, instead I was welcomed by the papery arms of a 70 year old randy pensioner and the expert left hook of his furious wife. Ouch!
Jenny, Castlebar, Co. Mayo

Is love blind?
On the morning of my wedding I managed to lose my contact lenses down the toilet. It was lucky I had my glasses, that is of course if you can count looking like Penfold`s blinder sister as lucky... So I opted for the "Cant see a bloody thing" choice, encouraged a little by the promise of my father`s guidance. The walk down the aisle was surprisingly okay - I only tripped twice. And as I reached my husband, I leant over and planted a full-on lingering kiss on his lips, only there was a slight hitch in that I actually snogged the best man. Whoops!! I`m just relieved I was too blind to see all those disapproving faces...
Fran, Dublin

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