WEDDING OF THE DAMNED
Well we ticked over for sometime, me grudgingly seeing
Ruth when Simon deemed fit usually with him there with
us smarmily watching in case I suddenly had the urge to
pull down her knickers. Or with him in the vicinity,
with Ruth texting him constantly to make sure she hadnt
vacated to Dykesville pussylove town.
Then they married. Would you believe that I was not asked
to be bridesmaid? Or best person or best anything! No I
was relegated to the wierd table, no top table for me, I sat
with the dogy aunts and the far removed (from reality) cousins.
Was I happy? You betcha not. I wasnt even allowed to attend the
hen night. They had a sedate time in Barcelona and I stayed home
gritting my teeth. But I bared with it, this is what friends do
when a friend is acting like she lost half her brain cells.
To her wedding Ruth wore a dress which made her look like:
1./ Little house from the Oxfam Prarie
2./ A Hammer House Virgin
3./ Fucking ugly
I looked terrific navy maxi dress to show off my height and a
pair of killer silver wedges. Barbarela meedts Barbra Streisand.
The dress also hid my fat arse.
Sim Mr Groom Bastard features wore a navy suit that looked
like it was Armani and must had cost a trillion times more
then Ruth's thrifty shocksvilla dress.
She wore no make up and had her hair dyed a lovely shade
of mouse brown.
And she said Obey! When I heard the words I said No! Inwardly.
But it was done, a surrendered wife inthe flesh. I always thought
it was a kinkt thing with spanking and Masters. This was definately
less sexy and more sinister.
And where the fuck was Alex?
Best Becka XXXXX
(Thanks Butterfly and Lindy. Yeah had a hard time, then got better
then had no enthusiasm. Then went to my lowest. Then had no imagination
and then finally I crawled back to Becka street. Love you all!)