Catho-lick my ass or: the heavenly lemur

Weddings are easily my least favorite function.  For starters, a wedding reception is a criminally tacky parade that's one-thousand times worse than prom.  And that's the part I look forward to.

The ceremony was in a Catholic church: the creepiest edifice I know about. I literally shudder every time I enter one and I shouldn't be able to feel the grip of Catholic guilt.  As I walked in, a smiling usher offered me a programme, but I refused it for fear that my heathen fingers would singe the paper. I managed to catch a glance at its contents though. There seemed to be approximately eighty-thousand readings and hymns on the docket, but I couldn't be sure.

I spent the entire ceremony swearing abominations against God in my head while looking at the ceiling.  I assume that's where God sits, nestled in the apse like a heavenly lemur. Occasionally, I pulled out my notebook to document the insanity.  Some notes:

If God is a slap chop, then religion is an infomercial.
Why force a celibate man to dress like a twat? Isn't his life hard enough?
Sacrament cup must be lousy with oral herpes. Also: I should come here to pre-game.
I need to object at a wedding -- just once.
I can't believe the bride and groom are missing this shit. Where are those assholes?
I wonder how many boys this guy has raped. He's got a bit of swagger. I'll say three.
I need to start a holy war -- just once.
If God just walked in would he take over the sermon or sit in the back?
This would be much better as a death metal rock opera.

It went on and fucking on.  We eventually hacked through the religious preamble and the bride and groom finally made their way down the aisle.  I wanted to lean over and kick one of them in the shins as if to say, "thanks a bunch," but I decided against it.  Or wasn't close enough.  Or something.

This overly religious service surprised me because I didn't think my friends were very religious.  Would I have to find new friends?  Could I have been mistaken?  Was Harvey Kornbluth wrong?

Of course not.  In the lone enjoyable moment of the entire ceremony the groom answered a long, bored, sarcastic "YES" -- the kind you offer your mother when she's asked you for the umpteenth time if you're going to make it for dinner on Saturday and you have already told her you are -- when asked if he would "accept children from God lovingly and bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church."

Take that, Yeshua.  God: I hate weddings.