I’ve been to a handful of nuptials in my time, and I’ve always thought there was something missing. But what? There’s always a groom, a bride, a bunch of people affiliated with one or both who get to stand in front, a few people annoyed that they didn’t get to stand in front, a cake, awkward dancing made even more awkward by people used to drunken dancing who don’t want to make it too obvious that they’re professionals at being drunk and at dancing in front of a mixed crowd, and an open bar (because if there isn’t, at least for a little while, fuck that). Despite all of those components, something still seems amiss.
A recent tequila binge helped me sort it all out. The problem with modern weddings is that the entrances are boring. The bride always comes out to the same song. The groom comes out to some other sappy number that does nothing to establish his awesomeness. Neither gets spotlights, fireworks, or a crowd of rednecks singing along with his or her entrance theme. Needless to say, if you’re about to get married, you really ought to take a closer look at the WWE and how its competitors travel to the ring. Below are a few examples to get you lovebirds started.
Shawn Michaels, Wrestlemania XXV
Few superstars knew how to make an entrance like the Heartbreak Kid, the Show Stopper, Mr. Wrestlemania…the one-and-only Shawn Michaels. This one is useful for two reasons: number one, it proves you’re devout, that you’re a saintly, good little church boy who certainly would never have done anything naughty with the white clad bride to be; number two, it immediately establishes you as the sexiest boy in the room, which could be useful if there’s an ex or a forever-alone-admirer of your bride-to-be lurking anywhere nearby.
Foregoing the church for a secular display of affection on the beach, in your parents’ backyard, or in the local VFW? To hell with ceremony; show all those gathered here today that your ass knows how to get down and nip any potential objections in the bud by pretending to be a man-dinosaur from Planet Funk. Just be careful as to your choice of Funkadactyls; boogie-ing down to the alter flanked by the biggest skunks in town will surely put a damper on the honeymoon.
Do your future in-laws think you’re nuts? Sure they do. Don’t waste your time trying to change their opinion when you can discourage regular visits with a bit of help from Down Under! They didn’t know a headlock from a body scissors, but Luke and Butch were always a shit ton of fun. Sadly, I couldn’t find a video that included the best part of their entrance: licking the heads of random fans in the front row. That’s not a joke. Lick Aunt Sally’s head on your way to the altar and there’s no way in fuck you’ll have to deal with unwanted Christmas fruitcake ever again.
Are you a bad motherfucker with bad motherfucking friends? Get yourself some black shades and a limo and fire up the Hendrix. Bonus points if you can get Dennis Rodman to walk down the aisle with you. By the Force, I miss the days when evil Hogan was cool.
Here’s one for the ladies and a few brave men (although I once saw a man try this; it didn’t end well for poor Santino). I’m not sure what you’d be doing the splits under in a traditional church wedding. Jesus’s outstretched arms? Maybe slide in between the preacher’s legs? I’m going to hell. Hopefully Melina will be there and she’ll want to be friends.
And, if I ever get tricked into marriage by a beautiful heiress with a giant boat who doesn’t want a pre-nup…I’m doing this, regardless of how much that blinking jacket costs: