It's The Best, Man!

Can I give a big Cliff Richard style 'celebration' out to my mate Danny and his soon to be misses, Helen, on their planned wedding? Of course I can, it’s my blog and I can do what I like. Except sometimes it won’t let me leave spaces between the paragraphs. Well annoying. Danny proposed and Helen said 'yes' and, unfortunately, we are now at that age where a congratulations is in order instead of a "shit mate, have you got her pregnant?" So, congratulations to the both of you.


I touched upon the wedding one or two blogs ago but more news has happened since then that has sent church bells ringing all around the chapel and its' orchards. Our Graham gave the round up and Danny picked contestant number two to be the best man. That’s me if I haven’t made it clear. He’s always had good judgement that lad. It’s in the calves you see? Very sturdy calf muscles.

You have to feel a little sorry for Helen and Danny. What started off as the biggest day of their lives has now been given second billing to my first proper stand up gig. And boy am I bobbing it? I’ve been more nervous than a Jew in a German built shower, and it’s not even until next June. What will I be like on the big day? Apart from good looking I mean.

Unfortunately I don't have a photo of Danny or Helen so you will have to make do with Peter and Jordan. It's a fair compromise me thinks.

Right, must get going, there’s so much to sort out. My entrance music, stage props, what should be available at the interval, tour t-shirts, badges… Seriously though, it is an honour to be Danny’s best man and I can’t wait for June. I guarantee this will be the best wedding he ever has. That’s a joke by the way. Crap, maybe I should have saved that for the speech.