Do You Have The Guts To Officiate My Heinous Dutc... | ClickHole

1. We should get this out of the way right off the bat: Are any of these going to be a problem vis-à-vis keeping your stomach contents down?

A stack of larded-up Bibles.

Noises that birds only make once.

A crushing press of sleeping children.

Salt pork.

Aerosolized salt pork.

A rowboat full of sourdough yeast dropped from a great height.

The scent of a whole lot of collected spit.

A Greek man crawling out of a pipe organ.

Great, thanks.
2. My insatiable husband-to-be and I are planning an emotionally, spiritually, and physically draining gauntlet of a Dutch wedding that will leave everyone involved dehydrated, totally hairless, and partially deafened. And if my special day doesn’t go off perfectly, I’m going to spend my wedding night shredding my husband Delkin’s penis and neck with my long, immaculate fingernails, and our marriage will be DOA. So, how well-versed are you in the rich and extralegal traditions of the Dutch wedding?

I just know the basics: the march of the two very stunned boys, the spit basket, the dough drop, the Greek creep, the nuptial welding. I’ll get the job done, though.

If anything, I know too much about Dutch weddings. I still remember my own Dutch ceremony, being drenched in saliva and screaming my vows as the welder’s torch sealed our forearms together in holy Dutch matrimony. Everyone deserves that kind of joy.

Why not take it easy and have a fabulous Peruvian wedding? Picture it: very slow gymnasts; moist pillows; loose, gauzy fabrics; and all the chants you can chant!

I don’t know much about Dutch weddings, but oh, sweetheart, the things I could tell you about your fiancé. I could sketch his hips from memory while blindfolded and concussed, and I have.
3. It’s clichéd, but it’s true: A Dutch wedding without a strict dress code is like a seagull without a brain. As the officiant, it’s your job to strictly enforce it. We’ll provide the tranquilizer darts and gladiator’s net to eject violators with, if you can prove you know what guests should wear:

This one’s easy: an oversize crepe paper T-shirt, leather shorts, and dress shoes for men; and for women, an oversize crepe paper T-shirt, leather leotard, and high-heeled thigh-highs. And of course, plenty of buckles, the Dutchman’s delight.

Anyone can rattle off a dress code, but it’s the little touches that make a Dutch wedding perfect. If your guests haven’t swallowed a pearl earring before arriving, they’re not getting in.

Anything goes at a spectacular Peruvian wedding, as long as it’s gauzy and lets those tush-globes breathe. Otherwise, how will your ass delight in the dampness of the pillows?

I couldn’t give a loose damn what your guests wear, but I’ll be showing up in the grease-stained Dickies jumpsuit I was wearing when your sweet morsel of a lover first drank me in with his eyes and crotch. His spit is still crusted on the collar, you know, thirsty to be rehydrated by more.
4. A Dutch wedding, of course, kicks off with the March Of The Two Very Stunned Boys, who stumble down the aisle, their cheeks stuffed with our rings, to symbolize how love is in many ways like two very stunned boys who’re pretty likely to choke on a ring. For our mine-collapse of a wedding, we’ve picked out a pair of kicky young twin orphans from the local kid lost-and-found, but stunning them falls to you. How will you get these boys good and stunned, in keeping with our busted-ass take on the noble practices of old Amsterdam?

In true Dutch style, I’ll load a pair of old flintlock pistols full of deer ticks, press them to their ears, and absolutely shred their equilibrium with the raw power of deer ticks.

Deer ticks are the foolproof route, but for the ultimate Dutch stunner, put those boys in a sauna with speakers playing pitched-down auctioneer patter at deafening volume. Keep them there for a few weeks, and then pump their inner ears full of ticks to achieve a powerful, full-body stun that would make the house of Nassau proud.

At a lovely Peruvian marriage, there’s no need to stun boys, for everybody gets a wedding ring, right from a big bowl, or even just the ground! A Peruvian wedding is impossibly expensive, but hey, it’s your special day!

I’ll feed them all the juicy details of the Presidents Day weekend that your ravenous fiancé and I spent shut up together in a marathon of passion, long before you two met. We alternated between our jagged, jerky love-play and beating dents into his neighbor’s boat with just our fists and buttocks, barely stopping to gulp down a seaweed-flavored protein shake before we were back at it. Did he ever tell you about that?
5. In what might as well be the Dutch tradition, both families will symbolize their participation in our union by filling a single wicker hamper with as much saliva as they can muster, and all the body hair they can pluck. You’ll have to upend the spit basket over me and my throbbing young husband, dissolving our crepe paper outfits and baptizing us as one in the eyes of our Dutch “God.” Can we count on you to stay conscious despite the spit smell long enough to deliver an appropriate reading?

You can count on me! I’d read from Mark Twain’s “The Devil And John Hinckley Jr.,” specifically the part where John Hinckley Jr. screams at a diner waitress for not peeling the grapes in his complimentary fruit cup. It’s about commitment.

Are you kidding? Heaven and earth couldn’t stop me from cracking open my precious lard-drenched Dutch Bible again to read the parable of Big Ernie The Sulky Greek, and I’d do all the voices, too.

Sounds like a hassle! At a breezy Peruvian wedding, families joyfully toss orchid petals and chant “Bless those genitals!” or “Lifelong partners! (clap, clap, clap clap clap)” as the slow gymnasts inch their way through cartwheels. No stress, no mess!

I’d fight off twice that much nausea for the chance to watch your face as I read from the Passion Diary your sweat-choked lover and I filled cover to cover with our deepest, most impractical carnal fantasias. I just can’t decide between his entry about us birthing each other back and forth or the one with the industrial shredder. They’re both just so delicious.
6. Finally, a fun one! No Dutch wedding is truly heinous unless it’s a colossal waste of time and resources, and that’s what the dough drop is for. As our forearms are welded together into permanent conjoined bliss, you’ll shove a painstakingly handcrafted rowboat full of a 100-year-old sourdough culture out of the cathedral bell tower, distracting the audience from our screams and bringing the ceremony to a close. Can you tell which of these sourdough cultures is old enough to be worth wasting by dropping it on the filthy fucking ground?

Flickr via andersbknudsen

Results for Do You Have The Guts To Officiate My Heinous Dutch Wedding?

You'd Do A Fine Job Officiating My Heinous Dutch Wedding!
Well, well! Looks like we've got a perfectly adequate officiant on our hands. Between stunning children and collecting human spit, you've got all the skills and just enough guts to steer my heinous Dutch wedding correctly. My frothing fiancé and I are lucky to have you in our corner, and we look forward to seeing you at the altar, and then later, crouched beneath our marital bed, as your role demands. Well done!

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Results for Do You Have The Guts To Officiate My Heinous Dutch Wedding?

You're The Perfect Officiant For My Heinous Dutch Wedding!
My God, what a rare treat: a true connoisseur of the venerable traditions of the Dutch. With your belly full of chutzpah and your head full of Netherlands knowledge, you're the ideal candidate to make my awful Dutch wedding one for the forbidden record books. You've probably seen terrible, terrible things in your time, unspeakable, Boschian weddings dredged up from ancient Dutch nightmares, and we can't wait for you to throw some inspiration from them onto our vision board. Congratulations, you're a catch!

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Results for Do You Have The Guts To Officiate My Heinous Dutch Wedding?

Shut The Fuck Up About Your Dumbass Peruvian Wedding!
Jesus Christ almighty, where do you get off? One way or another, I'm having a heinous Dutch wedding, and when you mouth off about the piddling bullshit of the Peruvians, all I hear is "mweh-mweh-mweh-mweh-mweh!" That's the sound of an ass trying to speak like a man! If we ever wanted a flippy-dippy wedding straight out of Storybook Junction, we'd stab a tree tapper into our necks to drain the testosterone out of our bodies, and hopefully die in the process. You'll never officiate my Dutch wedding, so fuck right off into prison. "Fabulous Peruvian wedding," my chapped ass.

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Stay Away From My Goddamned Husband, You Sexual Demon!
It's you! The creature who haunts my husband's most turgid dreams, whose broken-off thumbnail is permanently lodged in his thigh! The only one who could destroy our blissful future together by sabotaging our heinous Dutch wedding with your body and musk! I don't care what kind of past you and my relentless lover have together; he's mine now, and you're just dust from the past, scraped into a fuckable form. I'm spitting just thinking about you! You stay far away from us, or you'll taste each of my knuckles, one at a time!

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