I got bored of the paper very quickly and ended up playing Cut The Rope on my iPhone instead. That, too, lost its appeal, so I took a photo of my coffee. I'm not sure why I did that and, unfortunately, my new mate caught me doing so. To his credit, he pretended he hadn't witnessed it and got on with his duties.
The cows shrugged and got back to what they were doing. The unexpected entrance of a bearded Paris Hilton had clearly lost it's appeal.
To my relief, I learned that favours are just little presents you give to everyone. But I didn't know that. And because I didn't even know of their existence, they would not have been present at the wedding, had I organised it.
I had already devised a plan for this. Our DVD player, I would say, is fucked.
He was built like an aircraft carrier and, had I been a vegetarian and taken offence to his suggestion that we should all be dead, would probably have punched me in the face immediately and without hesitation.
As we prepare for the biggest day of our lives so far, it is becoming increasingly obvious that the mere mention of the 'w' word to any potential venue or supplier makes you as popular as an estate agent.