When I was younger I hated going to weddings. It seemed that all of my aunts and the grandmotherly types used to come up to me, poking me in the ribs and cackling, telling me, 'You're next.'
They stopped that shit after I started doing the same thing to them at funerals.
The wedding date was set and the groom's three pals - a carpenter, an electrician and a dentist were deciding what pranks to play on the couple on their wedding night.
The carpenter figured sawing the slats of their bed would give them a chuckle or two.
The electrician decided to wire the bed - with alternating current, of course.
The dentist wouldn't commit himself, but wore a sly grin and promised it would be memorable.
The nuptials went as planned and a few days later, each of the grooms buddies received the following note:
"Dear Friends, we didn't mind the bed slats being sawed. The electric shock was only a minor setback. But I swear by God Almighty, I'm going to kill whoever put novocaine in the condom!"