Friday, June 10, 2011

Mr. and Mrs. Oleen

Every bride thinks her wedding is the best wedding she's ever been to. I will admit, I was so arrogant to think the same.

Until this past weekend.

My brother's wedding kicked my wedding's butt.

Big time.

The Duke and Duchess ain't got nothin' on these kids.

My behind-the-scenes amateur photos just don't do it justice.

But until the professional photographer releases his images, here is a brief glimpse at what a perfect wedding looks like.

((Since this was such a beautiful occasion, I will try to keep my sarcastic and snarky commentary to myself. For the most part.)) 


To say the bride was a stunner in her wedding dress would be an understatement.

The train was so unique and so her.

She said she felt like she had a peacock coming out of her butt.

If so, then that's the prettiest butt peacock I've ever seen.

Cocktail hour.

It was hosted on the top floor of the Intercontinental Hotel on the Kansas City Plaza.

Mom and Dad's wedding picture.

They both sported some pretty gnarly hair back in those days.

My Damma Taffy (Grandma Kathy) and Grandpa Jerome's wedding day.

The dinner and dance were just across the hall in the rooftop ballroom.

Rather than giving out traditional favors, the couple donated money to the tornado relief efforts in Joplin, MO in the guests' honor.

My mama.

And my dad.

The band was amazing.

They sang everything from Frank Sinatra to Lady Gaga.

And the views from the reception were gorgeous.

I love this picture because my dad seems to be seriously impressed with my brother's footwork.

Several of my sister-in-law's fellow NFL cheerleaders came to the wedding.

I'm pretty sure watching them out on the dance floor was the highlight of the evening for 99% of the males in the room.

My body couldn't replicate some of those moves even if it wanted to.

Do you see that hair flip action?

I would be in a neck brace the following morning.

And the Ray Bans are back.

They stayed for a while, actually.

This is just minutes before my brother pulled out some sick dance moves. So sick that his wedding ring flew right off of his finger.

Marital strike #1, buddy.

Someone eventually found it under the stage.

Then the band made the mistake of handing out the maracas.

It's like it instantly transported the groom and best man back into college.

What I didn't catch on camera was their mid-air collision that left blood stains on my brother's tux.

I laughed so hard I cried.

I feel sorry for anyone who skipped out on the last hour of the reception.

The pure entertainment value of it all will never be matched.

Red bull and maracas are an interesting combination for my brother.

The man danced like it was his job.