DANNY Dyer expertly blended emotion, Cockney pride, West Ham fandom and liberal obscenities in his speech at his daughter’s wedding yesterday. Read it in full:
Alright, you muppets.
If the Irons had got themselves relegated, this day wouldn’t have happened. No way. I’m not having a Championship striker servicing my princess.
And she is a princess, no facking about. I’m royalty and this should have been an all-day event on the telly but ITV4 were being cheap twats.
Who would have thought, watching Love Island, my Dani would end up with a totally different fella? Though proper geezer he was, did time for fraud and kept it schtum.
Anyway, she met this lad, and he’s alright. 14 goals in a season like we’ve had is decent. Has to do better, but then I’m a national treasure just for going down on her from The IT Crowd with this Spitfire ace’s moustache.
The Dyer family is now supreme in all three areas of the arts: EastEnders, reality telly and football. There’s still darts we haven’t expanded into, but give us time.
Thanks to all the guests whether friends, faaaamily or Britain’s hardest men over there by the pavlovas. There’s a special roped-off area for fighting outside, lads, I know, health and safety gone facking mad.
And now to the couple’s first dance to celebrate their marriage, dealing in real romantic facking verities about what true love’s really like: Rabbit, by Chas and Dave.
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