When Stephen asked me about six months ago to be his best man, he told me he didn't want a speech, and I thought great, I don't have anything to prepare. So when I got into town a couple of days ago and he said 'yeah, sure, you can give a speech' I thought 'great, I don't have any time to prepare any embarrassing stories about when he was younger, and maybe got caught in the homes of young women-- not his current young woman-- without his pants on.'

Actually, there aren't any stories about that. Because where we grew up, we didn't wear pants, we wore trousers. So one of these times. . .

Nah, I'm kidding. Maybe he did it to get back at me, because he knows I hate getting up in front of people and talking into a mic, and despite my best efforts growing up-- like getting him to jump out of an upstairs window when we were young-- he still asked me to be his best man.

Best man is a bit of a misnomer. He asked me to be his best man, but my brother is the best man, and we're here today to celebrate his marriage to Melissa, and I need to stop now or I'm going to start crying.

So please, join me in raising your glasses to Stephen and Melissa.