Humorous Wedding Speech by Brother of the Groom
Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentleman – It’s my job to reply to the toast to the bridesmaids and in doing so, say a couple of nice things about George. You know, tell you about some of his good points. The problem is he doesn’t have any good points. Well, except for being naturally gifted at sports. We do, after all, come from the same gene pull.
So, on behalf of the bridesmaid, Claire, I would like to start by thanking George for his kind words. I am sure you will all agree that she looks wonderful today, as always. And so does the bride, Peggy - stunning, as always. And, for a change, George has scrubbed up quite nicely too. He looks very refreshed, don't you think? I feel I can take a certain amount of credit for this, because I tried to ensure George got a good night's sleep. We only had a few pints, after which he slept like a baby - so he kept waking up every half an hour crying and asking for his mum. He also wet his bed - but so did I.
I should take this opportunity to reveal to you all of George's past misdemeanours. Unfortunately I have played a part in most of the incriminating events, because we've always been co-conspirators and joint culprits. So, by disclosing everything George has done, I would be implicating myself and I really don't want to tarnish my impeccable reputation. Instead, I’ll shall keep things very simple and stick to the basic facts.
George was born on 15th September 1973, and, following my own birth a year later, was soon to be seen as the uglier of the two Wilson brothers.
The truth is, George has and always will be the prototypical big brother. All through my life, he has blazed trails for me. In school, I would always be greeted by new teachers with the comment, "I remember your brother - he was my student and a great guy", or, "I hope you are as well mannered as your brother", or, "Will you be taking over the role as the school idiot now your brother has left?". But in all seriousness, following in someone's footsteps is never easy, but the paths that my brother paved for me made it particularly difficult.
A story I want to share with you about my dear brother took place about eight years ago. After a night on the tiles, George returned home and went straight to bed. After a short while, he started feeling a little bit nauseous and, in a moment of drunken clarity, opted to vomit out of his bedroom window. This isn't as foolish as it sounds, because the garage roof protruded under George's room. So, rather than stain his carpet and surely be caught in the morning, he hoped the roof and gutter would bear the brunt of the evidence of a very drunk young man until the following day, when it...