Mr Starkey got married, there was a lot of thought that went into whether or not I really wanted to go to this wedding, but I’m really glad I did. I set off feeling like I was on the way to star in my very own horror movie, and it was a thought I encouraged, I debated the best way to attract a serial killer round the back of the reception, should I wear a man’s white shirt? Have some outdoor sex? Partake in a class A or two….?
It was though, a simply lovely day. I went to sleep on Saturday night with all these things going around my head about what I wanted to write about it, and all I could remember the following morning was something about “being incredibly proud, remembering the boy I knew then, watching the man he is today, promise to love, honour and cherish, this wonderful girl”, which just goes to show, champagne makes you want to write all kinds of sentimental crap
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