I look forward to winter for one reason only – less weddings.

Having just gone through another jam-packed summer of 'big days' and spending out to attend, dress accordingly, get suitably plastered, stay overnight and finance the honeymoon (or, in one case, a deposit for a house!) of a total of eight happy couples, I am not only bitterly poor but deflated.

You only have to watch five minutes of the Living TV reality show, Four Weddings, to learn that these blissful days are now less a chance to celebrate love than to wage competition.

Some unashamedly selfish Bridezillas want THE perfect day and will stop at nothing to get it. You, the guest, should realise that you are just there to make up the numbers and make sure she gets more pressies.

You were given your orders for the day via a ten page invitation booklet that folds out into the shape of a swan and have been told that although 'your presence is present enough' that the lovely couple would appreciate donations towards their honeymoon. In multiples of £100 as the travel agent can't process lesser denominations.

The day itself is usually a miserable affair. You have to 'mingle' (urgh) and spend the entire ceremony looking up from your hymn book, covertly searching out the bar. Having finally located it, it is then a race to see if you can get drunk enough to find the speeches funny and dance with randy Uncle Gordon from your table.

Furthermore, for all of the honeymoons, houses and yachts I've donated to this summer, I have yet to receive one 'thank you' note. Yes, Mr and Mrs so and so, I am aware that you are too busy gushing at one another to think of anyone else, but the party's over and it's not all about you any more so get out your biro and scribble us lowly benefactors a letter of gratitude.

Or better still, an e-mail, then you don't even have to buy a stamp you stingy swines...