When I'm not downloading criminal amounts of Internet smut, verbally throwing unruly haters of my blog under the bus, or holding tribal rituals in my house in hopes of the Lakers making the playoffs this year, I am thinking about the day that I walk down the isle in wedding bliss. OK, let me be honest here, I have got to be the only straight male in the history of man that has thought about his wedding day his entire life. Hey, the "Diatribe" isn't all about throat-chops and Hip Hop, there are certain things about my personality to let you know that I'm indeed a sensitive guy.(Or a "pussy", let my mother tell it.) Even though I have yet to meet my future wife, so I don't know what she would think of my concept of what an "ideal wedding" is, this is my image of how my wedding will go before she begins to undermine my master plan. But if she fails to thwart my plan of a HumanityCritic-style wedding, it sure will be fun telling the people in attendance who frown upon my wedding decisions, "It's my day bitch!!"
Choosing a Church: I love my city of Virginia Beach, I really do, but in the same way you love a drug addict sibling who you still love despite them constantly stealing your household appliances for that crack rock.(Republican area, overzealous cops, women with high moral standards) That being said, when I have envisioned my wedding day over the past 20 plus years there is no other place I would have it but my home city. The problem is that I'm catholic, nothing wrong with that, but lets just say that I am unwelcome in the few houses of worship in my area where Catholicism is the main topic of discussion. From me telling one member of the clergy that "he isn't god's messenger" when he tried to endorse Bush to his black congregation, the time I inappropriately cracked some "child molestation" jokes by saying that "the words 'daycare center' and 'catholic priests' are a toxic mix!" around a few members of clergy, and the one time I beat a guys ass in the parking lot during a church service shows you that me finding a fitting church will be difficult. I know there are plenty of places I could hold my wedding, it doesn't have to be exclusively a Catholic church, but at this rate of pissing off churches it wouldn't be surprised if my wedding is held in a fucking Recreation center.
I don't know, I'm probably the only person who thinks that is actually a good idea, but there is something cool about a overweight coach coming on the basketball court, blowing his whistle then saying, "(Whistle)OK guys, practice is over. You know that they are throwing that HumanityCritic wedding at noon". But seriously, I'm sure I will find a beautiful church to have my wedding in, even if I have to slide some bastard priest a few greenbacks on the side to make that happen.
Choosing a DJ: If you have read this miserable blog for only a few fleeting seconds a few things become obvious, I have a temper, I'm a chubby black guy, and I am an insufferable prick when it comes to what music I like and what I consider to be horseshit. That being said, choosing the right DJ, to me, would be one of the most important things on my "to do" list outside of drunkenly having sex with my new bride post wedding. I would have a lengthy interview process, where I not only go through their various crates of vinyl, but I'd also ask them various questions about Hip Hop and who their favorite rappers are. OK, you think that MC Hammer's extreme lyricism was overlooked? Next! You think Tupac was the best rapper ever? Shit man, Next!! Rakim isn't even in your top 10 of all time MC's? Motherfucker Next!! Three-6 mafia is your favorite group? (grabbing them by their throat)Get your goddamn ass out of here before I Mame you!!
After I find the proper candidate, I'd have to warn him that if he plays anything by any rapper who shows their "grill" like its an accomplishment, the macarena, or any shit like that, I will break a chair across his face in the middle of his mix. I know I'm an asshole, but I would get on the mic even before he plays the first record and warn everyone, including my momma, that if they request any bullshit that they will be on the business end of a beating as well.(OK, my mama gets a pass, only because she has a severely accurate right hook)
Choosing the food: Even though my asshole tendencies make me want to have a menu of the unhealthiest, greasiest, meat laden variety just so I can see all my vegan friends look at me like lost puppies grasping their empty plates, just so I can say, "It's my day bitch!!!" But I won't do that, I will have a wide variety of spreads to accommodate everyone, even though it's "my day" its the least I could do for my family or friends. But since I'm still a scumbag, I would make sure the meat and other unhealthy spreads would be served in a very elaborate table setting with beautiful silverware and shit, while the grub for the vegan peeps would be served in a shabby, moldy tent. I know, it's petty, but at least they would know my stance on non-carnivores.
The Wedding: I know this is bad, but I don't see my wife and I coming out to the same boring, badly tuned rendition of "here comes the bride" , or any other traditional wedding nonsense. I see the house DJ, yes house DJ, playing LL Cool J's "I need love" or A Tribe Called Quest "Electric Relaxation" as we come out, hoping that my family and friends that I invited remembered to wear their Kangols and Shell-Toes in support of our happy union. I'm sure as me and my bride to be look into each others eyes, me noticing her beautiful wedding dress, and her "door knocker" earrings and MC Lyte hairstyle from 1988. Her looking into my eyes, sweet ass tux equipped with a black medallion around my neck, and parts in my eyebrows like Big Daddy Kane at the height of his career.
Even though I'm not sure if his ass is even a legitimate reverend, but Revrun would be the man marrying us that day. Despite my begging and pleading, even payment, I'm sure he wouldn't grant my request of loudly saying "This is my motherfucking house!!" like he did in "Krush Groove".(Him being a revered and all) After we freestyle our vows and make-out like dogs in heat in front of a few hundred people, with me inappropriately putting my hand up her wedding dress, the crowd would go bat-shit with excitement. As we leave the church I will be on guard for my friend Charlie, who wants revenge, because when he got married I thought it would be funny if I threw a big lump of cooked rice at him and his bride. Some people just can't take a fucking joke.