Angels & Weddings

I must begin by showing my full support for the band Anjos. I myself am a fan of vibratos at sporting events. In fact, I remember with nostalgia the day I sang "Alé Alé é ô" in the Super Dragões stands during a Porto x Estoril match. In the "Alé Alé" I opted for the standard version, carefully saving the surprise for the following vowels: falsetto in E minor with an extended "ô". It was noticeable that I impressed some fans, who turned around in their seats, like Anselmo Ralph on The Voice Kids . Some fans – the most sophisticated fans, no doubt – gave me two punches in the teeth and a very-light pat on the back, one of the most reputable forms of socializing among fans. It's a good way to socialize.

It's ironic that advocating for the "Angels" makes me the Devil's advocate. But the Portuguese language has these contradictions that make us vibrate.

I also tell you that those who do not defend the Angels are people who have never had acne.

Only I know what I went through in the tenth grade, when I had an acne treatment that consisted of applying a cream in the morning that dried out my skin and made me arrive at school with my skin as thick as wheat bran. They called me “the dandruff guy.” Good times.

Sérgio Rosado also said that to avoid depression he had to do a triathlon. I have more doubts about this solution. It is a strange prescription to be in P1. And even if it can help, I doubt that a psychiatrist hearing this would not say: “ OK, but keep taking the antidepressants .”

However, I am entering a phase in my life where I have to attend weddings of people my own age. And be aware that overly modern dynamics are being created at weddings. For example, my last fiancé decided to create a chatbot to provide information and answer questions about the wedding. A kind of GPT Chat specialized in that event. Note that we are talking about a Catholic wedding that took place shortly after the engagement proposal. I decided to ask the chatbot : “Is the bride pregnant?”

Even though we are beginning to see innovations in marriage, there are certain habits that people insist on perpetuating. Starting with invitations. Don't make things up. I only want one thing in my invitation: honesty.

“ The best gift you can give us is your presence .”

It's not. Don't lie to me. On top of that, I'm a plus one .

And let me tell you, that's a strange phrase to put before an IBAN.

Since so many areas of weddings are becoming more modern, I suggest that you think about the phrases that appear on invitations. The day is coming when I will receive an invitation that simply says:

“ The best gift you can give us is 125 bucks and to use plastic cups , as the farm deposit came out of our own pocket .”

I'm not very good at attending weddings. Especially the ceremony itself, the so-called "mass".

This is because, mind you, I am not Catholic. I am what is commonly called in religious jargon as a “follower of science.” And so my experience in religious celebrations is right up there with my experience with really good women.

In this sense, I sometimes feel embarrassed for not knowing how to behave in church. The most common one is right at the entrance. When my peers cross themselves, I usually scratch my nose, in an attempt to simulate a vaguely similar gesture, but without going against what I believe in. The equivalent of stretching in Nazi Germany.

But at this last wedding I went to, something new happened to me. We are, again, at the Catholic wedding that had the chatbot .

The Mass reaches that part where people greet each other and say the same phrase to each other. Now notice: this is uncharted territory for me.

I am surrounded by betas who only give a little kiss. The lady next to me comes forward to kiss me and says the phrase , which I later discovered to be: “Peace of Christ.” Emphasis on later .

This is because at that time, what I heard and made perfect sense to me was: “ Viva um kiss ”.

So yes, I said “kisses ” to all the women I greeted at this moment.

When I left the church and shared what had happened with my friends, I was naturally the target of ridicule. The jokes were so frequent that my pores started to weep from laughing, so much so that I had an acne breakout. Luckily I have a long beard so I can cover the marks. But there are marks that remain, and those are not visible. I would tell you more, but I have to pack my bags for the triathlon.