Bloody weddings. I hate them. I can't stand them even when I know the people involved.
I'm a cynical git. I can't help but sit there thinking 'yerrrr, you said that to your last *insert number here* exes'.
They also cost me a fortune as a guest. I have to buy gifts for people who just want newer, shinier versions of things they already have. Wasn't the original point of wedding gifts to help a couple set up home? Just sayin'...
But anyway, I digress.
While 'the world' has been ooohing and aaaahing over a moderately posh bird living the 'fairy tale dream' (i.e. saying goodbye to any personal freedom she once had), shit has been kicking off.
Now I admit that I did hope that there wouldn't be any trouble at the wedding (although this plan for a runaway bride scenario did amuse me), as 1) it's not really that classy to disrupt the day of a couple who have done nothing wrong, and, let's face it, have bog all power, and 2) it's not going to encourage the starry-eyed general populace to back any cause, is it?
But. This is atrocious. This terrifies me to my very core. Pre-crime? WTF? I am screwed. My flippancy in my day-to-day life means that I will probably find myself regularly taken into custody for pre-assault, pre-murder, pre-GBH...
As a good little law-abider, I have spent most of my life generally unfrightened of the boys in blue. This all changed, however, with the introduction of the draconian smoking laws, and I spend a lot of time smoking outside, paranoid that I'm still in 'the wrong bit of outside'. If our thoughts and opinions are now under threat, well then this ain't a world I want to live in. Pass the full-strength Marlboro (which I paid full tax on, thus funding those there 'public servants' who seek to erode our civil liberties, bit by bit), and I'll smoke myself into the grave. In a legal location. Disposing of the cigarette ends in a responsible manner, officer (Oh, but not before I've done this).
Still, that dress were pretty, weren't it?