Bum and Mouth to the extreme.
Now I’m not using this as a DIRECT reference for life imitating art; however, I have recently and excitingly been asked to be
Maid of Honour for the wedding of my best friend Antonia and her fiancé Noel.
(I would just like to point out that in the film it all ends happily with a
beautiful wedding and the Bride and Maid of Honour’s friendship still intact.
And we all know that film correlates with life. It does. JUST SAYING.)
Antonia and Noel are one of those incredible couples who
just fit. Like socks and shoes, hands and gloves, Bert and Ernie. They met
playing Romeo and Juliet opposite each other and have now started their own
theatre company: Box Tale Soup.
Box Tale Soup, does what it says on the tin:
Box: Everything they use to perform with is placed in one box,
well a suitcase really. An old, well-loved suitcase filled with puppets! Home-made
puppets, hand crafted by Antonia and Noel with recycled materials and bits and
bobs from around the house. The puppets are INCREDIBLE and each has their own
distinctive personality and voice. I definitely have a favourite…
Tale: They are currently bringing to life Northanger Abbey
with a fresh and funny approach; think Austen mixed with Avenue Q! Noel comes
from a street performing background and Tones from classical acting, so the
blend of the two makes for a whirlwind of story-telling!
Soup: It is heart-warming. I’m not going to get gooey about
it, but the truth and integrity of them both as performers and the fact that
they have created this magical world from scratch makes me more proud than you
can imagine.
Okay so I did get gooey, but that is the last of it! More
fart jokes to balance out the slush please Darrall.
Their next performance is at Hatfield House on the 6th
December. I URGE you to book and promise you a night of belly laughs, tears
(good ones) and joy.
Shameless plug done. Now onto how I can embarrass her at the
hen night… I can’t promise that we won’t end up shitting on the road but I will
do my very best to prevent it. Maybe.
Being asked to be Maid of Honour is a definite sign of
growing up. Now I have, for the past 26 years, resisted growing up with a
vengeance; mainly by the listening of Sclub7 and the wearing of baggy jeans,
hoodies and a general smirk of ‘This is not happening to me! You guys, yes. Me,
no. I tell too many jokes about genitals to ever be considered for Growing Up.
SO THERE.’
But apparently I am. So I have decided to embrace it. I will
be the BEST Maid of Honour there has ever been. I will shower all the maids
with honour and honour all the maids with showers.
(After they’ve finished
shitting in the road.)
This is a photograph of Antonia, me and the other two bridesmaids, Lou and Cee, on holiday in Portugal. This is the BEFORE photo.
They don’t know what is coming to them…
As
you can see they are all brown and glowing, whereas my face is beetroot red and
my legs are ghostly white. My legs refuse to tan like anorexics refuse to eat.
Now Antonia won’t mind me saying this, but she can be a bit
bossy from time to time, in a loving, efficient, organised way and always with
the gentlest of touches, but yes, bossy. (PLEASE STILL BE MY FRIEND)
So the
fact that she has given me, her slightly haphazard and inappropriate sidekick,
the job of Maid of Honour, which entails QUITE A BIT of responsibility, makes
it mean that much more.
SHE HAS GIVEN ME THE REIGNS!
(Dazza throws her arms in
the air and does the Maid of Honour dance. Oh yes, I have made up a dance. It
is a cross between the Chandler dance and the montage of Simba coming of age to
the tune of Hakuna Matata. You know the one.)
Funnily enough, my other bestie, Suze (you can never have
too many besties), has also recently been made Maid of Honour for our wonderful
friends Nikki and Joe, thus I am already planning Maid of Honour meetings.
There will be a handshake, of course the dance and maybe a flip board where we
can compare notes and plan plans (or play Pictionary, however the mood takes
us).
So it is official. EVERYONE IN THE WORLD IS GETTING MARRIED.
AND WE ARE GROWING UP.
(Camera zooms in on Dazza in a heap on the floor,
quivering like a child and clutching her Care Bear.)
And I am totally ready for
it. Definitely. More than ready. If anybody’s ready, it’s me. Loads.
Now onto write my speech…
MWAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
ps. A Disclosure for Antonia: Laura Darrall hereby
promises not to encourage or cause vomiting and or diarrhoea on any forthcoming
Bridal Activities. She also promises to be the best Maid of Honour known to
man. And to teach you the dance. The end.
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