Tits and Tats

Weddings are always interesting because there's always such a mix of people, and you never know quite what to expect. I mean, yes, there's a bride and groom. There's family. Friends. Bridesmaids and groomsmen. There's food and there's usually alcohol. Music. Dancing. There are people you know, people to look at, and people to talk to.

And now that I am married, there's very little pressure, so I can sit back and people watch.

Today, the Mumples went to a wedding.

For the Howler, weddings mean dancing. So the Mumples gotta stay for the dancing. (The dancing in her estimation is more important than the food. I don't know where she gets that!)

Well, today's event proved to be quite an eyeful.

Apparently much thought was given to showing off that ink. It may have been a requirement for the bridal party--it certainly looked like it.

I don't know how many people were looking at the bride, though. ALL of the bridesmaids were bursting out of their short skirted low cut pink dresses.

Of the four, only one didn't have knockers that would make a Hooters waitress jealous (but more on her later.) And all of them had tatoos. They were large girls, mostly, so I guess delicate roses inked on their shoulders would have seemed inappropriate. Not having ever wanted someone to take a needle to my skin and jab me millions of times, though, I couldn't say for sure.

This artwork was large, and EVERY. WHERE. You couldn't swing the mother of the bride without hitting a large, colorful tat. Seriously. I considered trying it, just to see if it was true.

I think between them all, there was not a body part that wasn't colored in. Mr Mumple and I spend more than a few minutes imagining how they would all look in 20 years--and it wasn't pretty.

And there were tits everywhere. EVERY. WHERE. I felt rather over dressed, because I wore a bra. But then, they invited us, backtracked and invited the Howler and the Toad (who, at 19 was able to opt out--and I'm personally glad. Had he been there, he'd have had his hand down his pants for days.) But they never mentioned that women over the age of 18 were expected to show off ye olde ta-tas.

I've seen skin mags with fewer tit shots than this wedding. Holy moly! There was barely a bra in the place.

There was a guest who looked like the balloon display at the circus. A baby doll shift-dress should not be worn by a woman who is weighs in at 300+ pounds. She changed immediately after the wedding into low waisted jeans and a halter top that showed off not only her size 58 triple Ds but also her beer belly. I was in mortal fear that she would bend over and I'd see that cleavage too.

Now, it's time for the maid of honor. She weren't no maid and whatever *honor* she might have had was lost in the backseat of an '83 Chevy on prom night--back in '84. Honest to God!

She changed into jeans. Normal, if faded and slightly ratty (and fashionable) jeans. She paired that denim with a "The Beatles" tee. She apparently forgot her bra. Or lost it. Or whatever. There was a cool breeze everywhere she went--the cold weather indicators were out the entire time. I was worried, even with as small as they were that someone was gonna get an eye put out. Madonna based her show-cones on this woman's massive and erect nipples. There was absolutely NO WAY you could miss seeing these things. I'm dead serious when I say that if it weren't for her nipples, you couldn't tell she had tits.

Now, on to the best man (and brother of the groom.) His current Squeeze was just about right for this ho-down. His ex was there, because their children were in the wedding (adorable and sweet children. It's a shame they have such an ass for a father.) The Squeeze looked like she put on her sister's prom dress. The color made her look yellow. While her hair was washed and combed, that was all you could say about it. And since she had no tits either, if that dress hadn't had those spaghetti straps, there's no way in hell even super glue would've held it up. I was so busy waiting for the disappointment of the flash that had to be coming that I didn't notice any tats though. There was no flash, so my eyesight was safe. (Personally, I'm vain enough to not want to come up short if/when compared to my Sweetie's exes. And if he had an ex that looked like this guy's ex--she's pretty, and well put together--I'd sure as shit NOT going to be in a dress that didn't look good on me, with my hair looking like all I did was wash it and hope for the best.) The Squeeze looked like (and God help me, I sound like my mother) something the cat dragged in. And she was pretty much ignored by the bridal party, and the groom's family. I summed it up by saying, "You can take the girl outta the bar, but you can't always get the bar outta the girl."

Oh, the funderful sights you see!