moore's code: vegas weddings
Alex attempts to convince us that his Vegas wedding is a good idea.
Why would you get married in Vegas? Easy. Because it would be/will be stupidly fun.
And why will it be fun? Because going to Vegas can't not be fun. Confused? Me too. But seriously, unless you have some sort of serious accident involving a Macaulay Culkin film, a litre of olive oil, two flights of stairs, a brand new twelve piece knife set, a concrete maker, Jessica Simpson and seven pineapples, your Vegas trip comes with a 'Bitching Time Guarantee'.
I'm going to say some words and you try and tell me that you're not having fun:
Frank Sinatra! Booze! All night parties! Cadillacs! The desert! Memories of the hit reality tv program Bret Michael's Rock of Love episode when he took those prostitutes he might have gotten married to on a Vegas trip! Pussycat Doll casinos! An almost extreme 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas' rule! Tattoos! No rain! A gun range in the city! Elvis! Elvis impersonators! Old men that have had plastic surgery to look like Elvis! Americans! Circus Circus! Paris in a hotel! Another Eiffel Tower! New York (the real one)! The Bellagio! The ability to not see daylight for the entire length of your stay! A rollercoaster on top of a building! Cabanas! Friends! Marriage! Charlie Sheen!
So much fun. Sure, some of it is a little gross. And some of that fun can be put down to morbid curiosity. But is that really any different to watching the career path of an actor that leaves Neighbours to pursue 'bigger things'? I love you, old Declan that left the show and joined the Army (in real life).
But most importantly, it is the ability to look at your kickarse wife for the rest of your life and, no matter what happens, yell at her, "remember that time we got married in Vegas and all of our friends were there and Elvis did the ceremony?" It has a really nice ring to it. Not that, "remember that time we got married in a church in Double Bay and it cost a hundred thousand dollars and no one really had a good time except that guy that got wasted and pretended to be the devil and whenever I look back it all I can remember is crying and feeling stressed and I wish I'd given that money to a scientist to genetically modify a horse to have a horn on its nose ? I'd call this creation a hornihorse," doesn't have a nice ring to it. Just not the sort of ring I like. Except for the hornihorse part.
Vegas. Oh yeah.
Words: Alexander Moore
Oystermag
