For Better or for worst...For them.

The wee hours of Sunday morning started out on a bad note for me. Man Utd scored an early goal yet they could not win by a clear 2 goals margin, courtesy of a bloody 25 yard curling scream from the bucktooth Portsmouth player, Gary O'Neil. WTF? Van Nisterooy lost his magnet for the ball, he couldn't even shine cept for his goal assist which was due more in part to Rooney's pace and composure. And Tim Howard, the epitome of suay-ness between the posts, simply couldn't keep a clean sheet on his "debut" after so many months. Monaco on the French side also couldn't beat Nice. The cash-strapped situation tightened, I was pissed, I couldn't sleep well.
When I do manage to shut my eyes for 2 hours later, I had to wake up for the "wife-grabby ceremony". Not for myself, but for my brudder. This time round, unlike the Central Narcotic Bureau advertisement, "we could not play by our own rules" and were subjected to abuse from acts and suggestions of the feminine warpped minds. Acts of which included using waxed sheet to extract 8 strands of hair from each of us, placing of ginger slices into our mouth and the extortion of eighten dollars and ONE cent, which fortunately, we have one. Brilliant.
Overall, a very nice wedding. Things went well. The couples had known each other for eight and half years. They had basically been through their teens together. The video montage was thus full of substance and touching, to mention the very least.
And we were all amazed by how the groom could walk out of the wedding banquet alive at the end of it all. We were too benevolent. This is what happens when the groom is spared beer and cognac. It was also a Sunday night, people have to work the next day. Things end on a calmer note and we left the newly-wedds to help ensure the growth of Singapore's diminishing walking population.